Tilly paced the length of the room, hands in their hair, heart pounding so hard they felt it in their teeth.
“I hate her,” Tilly said. “Remember? I’m supposed to hate her.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No,” Harper repeated calmly. “You hate how much you don’t hate her.”
Tilly stopped pacing and stared at the wall. “She got in my face.”
“Oh no,” Harper deadpanned. “She committed the crime of existing within three feet of you. How awful.”
“Harper.”
“What? Am I wrong?”
Tilly kicked lightly at a cable on the floor. “She cornered me.”
“She cornered you.”
“Yes.”
“With her words.”
“Yes.”
“And her face.”
“Harper.”
“And her body?”
Tilly groaned again. “Stop.”
Harper tilted her head. “Did you corner her?”
Tilly didn’t answer right away.
Harper’s eyes widened. “Oh, my god. You pushed her against a wall.”
“It wasn’t— I didn’t— Harper!”
“That’s a yes.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?”
Tilly pressed their palms flat to the counter, head hanging. Their chest felt too full. Their skin felt too warm. Their mind replayed Savannah’s voice, her breathing, the way she’d lookedat them like she knew exactly what they wanted and wasn’t afraid of it.
“I don’t know,” Tilly said quietly. “I don’t know what it was. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why she makes me feel like I’m going to explode every time she looks at me.”
Harper moved closer, softer now. “Tilly. You’re not in trouble. You’re just… into her.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
