Swiveling my head, I look at the clothes. They are expensive and the fabric is in beautiful colors and designs. It’s like a rainbow burst open and this is the result.
“You like anything?” Marie asks, watching me.
I shake my head.
Despite the fact that these clothes look stunning, not a single article piques my interest. Something that I’d prefer to wear on a date with the guy I love.
“I think I love Heath,” I tell Marie without meeting her gaze. “No, I’m sure. I love him.”
The room goes quiet and tension fills the room so thickly that it feels hard to breathe.
Just then a squeal echoes in the room and Marie climbs over the bed and starts jumping.
“You love him!” She throws her arms above her head and laughs so loud that the fact I haven’t told my mother—whom I’ve been close with since I was little—doesn’t bother me.
“Oh my God!” She gets down and attacks me with a hug.
Her arms squeezes me hard as she surrounds me with her bright, warm energy.
“I can’t breathe, Marie,” I wheeze.
“Oh sorry!” She quickly moves back and sits with cross-legs beside me. “I got too excited.”
A heartfelt laugh bursts out of me as I straighten up and tuck my legs underneath me.
When it dies down I say, “You’ve the first person I’ve told this to.”
She grins. “That means I’m special.”
I return her grin. “You are. The most special person I’ve ever met.”
Her eyes start to water but she quickly wipes away the moisture, not losing her million-dollar smile.
“When will you tell him?” she asks.
“I don’t know…”Never seems like a good answer.
What am I thinking? Ihaveto tell Heath.
“Are you nervous?” Before I can answer she says, “You don’t need to be. I’m more than sure that he feels the same way.”
She can’t be serious. “What? No! That can’t be.”
Marie scoffs. “Heath is obsessed with you. If it’s not love then what is it?”
“Just obsession?”
She shakes her head. “It’slove.”
I shrug, not wanting to get my hopes up. The last thing I want to do is hear that he doesn’t feel the same way about me. I would be shattered if he told me that he only likes me. Maybe it’s better that I keep it inside me.
“Tell him!” Marie insists, reading my mind. “You have to tell him.”
“What if he doesn’t?—”
“Still, you should tell him. He deserves to know.”
I cup my face in my hands as anxiety engulfs me. “I feel so scared.”
