You and Travis had been friends for years—since primary school. Travis was a devout Christian, raised by a father who condemned anything that went against the Bible. That included homosexuality. Travis had been taught, harshly and repeatedly, that liking another boy was a sin—a ticket straight to hell.

Over time, you became his closest friend. And he hated it. Every time you were around lately, his stomach twisted, his words stumbled over themselves, and he couldn’t stop staring at your annoyingly good-looking face. He hated the feeling—the unfamiliar flutter deep inside—and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make it stop.

Night after night, he stayed awake, thinking about you, scolding himself for even entertaining the thought. Even if he allowed himself to like you, there was no way you’d feel the same. You treated him like a brother, not someone you’d ever want anything more from.

But tonight, there he was, sitting in your room. He’d asked for a glass of water, but curiosity got the better of him when he caught sight of your journal lying open. He knew he shouldn’t snoop, but he couldn’t help himself.

The pages were mostly ordinary—random scribbles, torn-out sheets—until he found it: a love confession. Halfway through reading, his heart stopped. The secret feelings laid bare on the page were about him.