Honestly, it feels like I just cleared a sink before it could flood the whole damn kitchen. Messy, smelly disasters if you let them sit too long.
So, note to self: no more letting this stuff pile up. If there's even a whiff of confusion, I'm clearing it right away. For her? For us? I'll plunge through every ugly mix-up the second it bubbles up.
Because damn, walking around with that dread gnawing at me? Never again.
The room settles into this comfortable silence, the kind that doesn't need filling. For the first time all day, it doesn't feel heavy between us. And sitting in that quiet, all I can think is... maybe this is the moment.
We're already in the mood of clearing the air, right? So why not go all in?
If there's anything she's curious about, anything she's been holding back or second-guessing about me—I want it out now.
No hiding, no dancing around it.
Let her fire every question, every doubt, and I'll put it to bed right here, right now.
Because if there's one thing I've learned? Silence doesn't protect anything. It just breeds more of the crap that almost blew us up today.
I shift my weight, take a few slow steps closer towards her.
"So... anything else you've been wondering about?" I ask, keeping my tone light, almost teasing. "Stuff you've been dying to ask me but haven't yet?"
An internal debate plays out on her face, probably debating whether to say anything at all.
I smirk faintly. "C'mon, Caroline. You've got that look. Just spit it out. Better now than later."
"Why didn't you... ask me?"
My brows pull together. "Ask you what?"
She bites the corner of her lip, eyes flicking anywhere but me. "About the deal. The arrangement you made with the other girls at school." Her voice wavers. "I thought... it probably would've been the perfect chance to tell me you liked me. Or—even if you weren't ready to say it out loud—" her voice cracks, the words catching in her throat, "—you still could've made that deal with me instead."
Her foot shifts, toe pointed down, tapping nervously against the floor in this restless little stomp.
She looks so unsure.
"You know... pretend we were hooking up. Pretend we were dating. Everyone would've believed it. Hell, we were already practically glued to each other back then." She forces a shaky laugh, sheepish and sad all at once. "We could've made them believe we ended up falling in love."
The air whooshes right out of me, caught completely off guard by her question.
Then it hits me... God, she's right. She's so damn right.
I could've asked Caroline—my best friend—for that deal instead of wasting time with some rando I didn't even give a shit about.
Seriously, what the hell was I thinking? Biggest choke of my life. Like, Hall of Fame dumbass move right there.
It would've been so damn easy. Painfully easy. All I had to do was reach across that tiny space between us, grab her hand, and boom—the whole school would've seen what I'd been dying to scream out loud for years.
We could've played the part, sure—let everyone think it was just for show—but every second of it would've been my shot to prove it wasn't. That it was real.
Every second would've been my chance to show her what it really meant to be mine.
I could've made her feel it—how good we would've been together.
How natural, how inevitable it would've felt, like gravity itself pulling us closer no matter how much we tried to fight it.
And if I'd had half a brain, I would've used every trick in the playbook to charm her, to make her fall in love with me.
And when the moment finally came—when I knew for sure she felt it too—I could've told her everything. That I wasn't pretending. Not for a single damn second. That every look, every brush of my hand, every stupid excuse to be near her was the truest thing I've ever given anyone.
