‘Well… that’s stupid.’
‘Fine.’
That shut Mae up. She stared at the opposite wall, heart thrashing. She had no idea what she was supposed to do now.
Callie shifted, drawing one knee up, resting her arm casually over it in that infuriatingly relaxed way she had.
‘Mae,’ she said gently. ‘Talk to me. Please.’
‘Ididtalk.’
‘You talked bullshit.’
Mae pressed her palms over her face. ‘Just… drop it.’
‘No.’
This was all so oddly un-Callie. Mae was the one who could never let anything go. That made Callie’s job being the cool one.
But not today.
‘Mae,’ Callie said softly, ‘you’re not losing me. I’m right here.’
Mae swallowed hard. ‘You shouldn’t be.’
Callie’s eyes widened slightly, confusion sharpening. ‘Well, I am. And I’m gonna sit here until you’re honest. If it takes all night, I’ll do it. I’m not budging.’
Mae didn’t know if that was a bluff. And it didn’t much matter if it was. Mae could have just gotten up and walked out.
But she didn’t.
She felt a rising within herself. The truth, not to mention Mae herself, was coming out.
‘You’re right. I’m full of shit. It’s not that you’re moving on. Or anything I said.’
‘Then what is it?’ Callie asked.
Mae squeezed her eyes shut, mortified. ‘It’s you.’
A moment of silence followed, thicker than Mae’s current saliva.
‘Me?’ Callie said carefully.
Mae nodded miserably. ‘Yes. You. You’re the problem.’
‘How am I the problem?’
Mae inhaled shakily, eyes fixed on the tile. ‘Because Iloveyou, all right? Not as friends. The otherstupidway,’ she snapped. And then waited for the response.
Callie whispered it, barely audible, ‘Oh.’
Mae didn’t dare look up.Oh?
She’d just admitted to herself something she’d been fighting off for who knew how long, and Callie’s response was, ‘Meh.’
And this exact moment was why Mae had spent years insisting she didn’t care about romance. Because romance did this to you. It turned you into a person vomiting your heart out in front of someone who was lukewarm at best.
Mae had never felt like such a spectacular loser in her entire life. She stared at the floor, cheeks burning, praying to be struck down by an aneurysm. Something quick and painless, if possible. But Mae wasn’t picky.
