Seafoam

"I love you," I tell Vincent. He's sitting on my bed, on his stomach, reading Harry Potter. He looks up when I say those words and furrows his eyebrows.

"I love you, too, Eva," he replies, sounding confused.

I shake my head. "No. I'm in love with you, Vincent. Since the shooting, I've always wanted to tell you. I've been in love with you for awhile, actually. I never got the guts to tell you because you're my best friend...I–I love you."

Vincent just stares at me. Since the shooting, he stayed with me every day. Mostly for me and partly for him, too. He's scared, he just doesn't want to admit it.

I can see right there that I ruined this. He's going to go back to his empty house and sleep in his cold bed, instead of staying with me, in my warm bed. He's thinking it through, I can see it. He doesn't want to be too harsh on me, he wants to let me down easy.

"I'm..." he trails off.

I shake my head and smile at him.

"Forget I said anything."