Even If I Say

“Don’t look at me like that.” I turned my head. “Maybe I meant it as a friend.”

“Did you?”

“Which answer do you want?” Excuses are lame, but I really didn’t feel like telling him I loved him. I was feeling apathetic and pathetic right now. He turned my chin towards him. I tried to smack his hand down, but he grabbed my hand. He held gently. His hands were rough, but caring.

“I want the truth.”

I took my hand from his, “You want too much.” I shook my head to let my hair fall in my face. He pushed it behind my ear.

“Why can’t you just tell me if you love me or not?” He asked.

“I already said I did,” I felt the sass in my voice.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, Harry, I love you, okay? As more than a friend.”

He took his hand away from my chin, slowly and carefully. “Oh. That’s good.”

I looked at him, my eyes, no doubt wider than normal. “Why is that good?”

“Because I might love you too?”

I felt my heart skip a beat and my stomach filled with butterflies. “Do you?”

“Which answer do you want?”

“I wan the truth,” I remembered this and smiled at the irony.

He chuckled. “Sound familiar?”

“Will this have the same ending?” He nodded slightly. I smiled. I just then remembered a paper I had to complete.

“Harry I-” He looked at me and tilted his head. Why was I even thinking of passing up him for a stupid homework assignment?