They were halfway home, the stars scattered above them like confessions waiting to fall.

Gibsie was laughing about something stupid Joey said at the party, still buzzed off the chaos, off the crowd, off the girl he’d kissed an hour ago and already forgotten.

She hadn’t.

She’d watched it happen from across the room. Lips he’d used to press to her forehead. Fingers he’d used to intertwine with hers beneath the cinema seats. He’d smiled at the other girl the same way he smiled at her when no one was watching.

And suddenly, all the little moments that had meant everything to her started to feel like nothing.

Like she meant nothing.

She stopped walking.

Gibsie didn’t notice at first, still rambling, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, cheeks flushed from the drink and the cold.

When he finally looked back, her expression sobered him instantly.

“What’s wrong?”

Her chest heaved, fury coiled tight in her throat.

“Tell me that there’s nothing going on between us,” she said.

Gibsie’s smile faltered. “What?”

She took a step closer, fire in her voice. “Tell me that this thing—this thing that’s been going on for years—tell me it’s just friendship. Tell me the way I feel is all in my fucking head.”

“Sunshine—”

“Don’t call me that.”

He flinched like she’d slapped him.

Her voice cracked, but she kept going. “Because if it’s nothing, if it really is nothing, then I’ll go inside, I’ll sit with our friends, I’ll laugh at your jokes, and we’ll never talk about this again.”

She swallowed hard, eyes burning. “But I need you to say it. I need you to say I’m crazy.”

Silence.

Gibsie looked like he couldn’t breathe, like the words were right there but he didn’t know which ones would destroy her the least.

“You flirt with me, Gibsie,” she whispered, “You touch me like you mean it. You kiss other girls and then come home with me. You act like my boyfriend when no one’s watching. So if I’m reading it all wrong, just say it.”

His jaw tensed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”