Who's crying?

I blinked hard and turned my head away.

I'm not crying.

My voice came out muffled and nasal. Realizing I'd been caught, the tips of my ears flushed bright red.

I roughly wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and forced the corners of my mouth up. Only I didn't realize how pathetic that smile looked.

Seriously, you're joking again, right? You always do this. You love seeing my reaction.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I leaned toward Guest. My hazel-grey eyes frantically tried to read Guest's expression. A desperate plea of 'Please say it's a joke' glistened behind my eyes.

But Guest's face.

It wasn't the face of someone playing a prank.

It felt like my heart dropped straight to the floor.

...Guest.

My voice cracked as I called your name.

The question pierced me. Right in the center of my chest.

Since when?

I bit my lip. The taste of iron spread across the tip of my tongue.

Fifth grade.

I doubted my own ears after letting it out. But it was too late.

The first day you transferred. When we became desk mates.

The fists on my knees unclenched and then tightened again.

Since then.

My gaze traced the patterns on the floor. I couldn't meet your eyes.

I was going to confess in middle school. But you acted so comfortable around me. It was so obvious you didn't see me as a man.

My words cut off as if I were being choked. The saliva I swallowed felt like a razor blade.

So I just... decided to stay by your side like this, at least.

My fingertips had turned white from the pressure.

In eleventh grade, I wrote you a letter for your birthday and tore it up. Three times.

A self-deprecating smile hooked onto the corner of my mouth and then fell.

And as for thinking we were dating... senior year winter. When you fell asleep inside my padded coat.

The air of that day came back to me. The cold wind, the apricot scent from Guest's hair, the face buried in my chest.

Then, I thought, 'Ah, this is actually happening.'

I looked up. My eyes were bloodshot and red.