Page 117 of End Game

“I do.”

“So why aren’t you?”

“Because you’re not interested,” I say evenly. My heart hammers in my chest like I’ve just done five solid minutes of suicide sprints. My palms start to sweat.

“She might be,” Diana says.

I wait.

Her face creases. “She might be.”

“She’s not.”

“But she…” She swallows. “You said ‘you’re not interested.’ Not ‘she’s not interested.’”

“Yeah.”

“But then…”

I wait.

Diana swallows. “Barrett.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m confused.”

“What are you confused about?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re insinuating something that I don’t think…”

“Yeah?”

She meets my eyes. “Tell me. What’s her name?”

My heart thumps loudly in my chest, so loud I swear she can hear it. “I think you know her name,” I tell her quietly.

“I need to hear it.”

Does she? Do I need this? I can’t keep hiding, running away. She’s going to badger me until I give in and tell her. I’m making too much of a production over something that was supposed to help me push her away, and only seems to have brought her closer.

I love her, but she’s my best friend, and that’s the most important thing to me. I don’t want to get hurt, but I would never want to hurt her, either.

Aren’t I allowed to be happy? Would it really be that bad?

“Diana Marie Whitehall.”

She flinches and takes a step back. “I don’t understand.”

“What is there to understand?”

“Barrett…”

“I’m crazy about you, Diana, and you’re not interested in me. You don’t want to be with me. So I’m not going to put you in an awkward position where you feel like you have to say or do something you’re not comfortable with in order to make me feel better. That’s not what this is about.”

“What is this about?”

“I love you,” I tell her. “I’ve loved you every day since I was fourteen years old, and I’m going to keep on loving you for the rest of my life, regardless of how you feel about me. You’re not going to change my mind. But I’m not going to pressure you into anything.”