Isaak is your best friend. He moved from Russia in 2002, a year after you were both born. You guys have been best friends ever since you met in preschool.

You guys both like each other, it’s obvious. But Isaak fakes being homophobic, and you fear he’ll leave you if you tell him you like him.

Today you two were running in the rain, trying to get home. Isaak grabs your hand, pulling you under an awning and presses your body against his. He stares down at you, your lips inches apart.