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His jaw clenches. “Mia?—”
I try to tell myself to move on, but the memories of that night rush back. All the things I thought, wished, and felt swarms me as if I were reliving that night all over again. He has no idea how much his words hurt me. No idea how they’ve affected me since.
“Why were you and your friends even talking about me like that in the first place?”
“Jonathan and I had this friend who brought you up in our conversation. We didn’t know you were listening in. You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“Who talks shit about someone at their own birthday party?”
He looks at me confused. “I wasn’t talking shit about you. I was expressing an opinion.”
“Yeah. A hurtful one.”
“What do you mean?” He looks so infuriatingly confused.
Why should I tell him the reason? He didn’t like me the way I liked him.
The way I maybe still do.
“What did you mean by ‘it wasn’t for the reason you think’?”
He pauses. “You deserve to hear the truth when you have a clear mind.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear what he’s saying. And he’s right. I appreciate his point. I deserve to hear the truth when I’m thinking clearly. But right now, I’m just pissed off.
“Why are you avoiding the question?”
“Why were you listening to the conversation in the first place?”
I sit there in silence. I have a chance to tell him the truth. It’s so close; it’s on the tip of my tongue. Then again, what’s the point? He didn’t see me as more than Jonathan’s sister—and he never will.
“Why are you mad about that night? I didn’t think I was being offensive,” he adds.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I would if you’d tell me.”
I’ve had enough of this crap. All we’re doing is running in conversational circles. “I don’t appreciate the personal questions. I’m going to bed.”
When I stand and start down the hall, he rushes to my side, grabbing my arm firmly and pulling me close. “Mia, did I say something to offend you?”
“Trust me, you’ve said plenty.” He’s pushed me beyond my comfort zone. On top of that, he’s reminded me of the reality of our relationship. “Thanks for dinner, and your little ‘game.’ I needed the reminder of where I stood with you.”
Where I still stand.
“What are you talking about?” Wow, he really has no clue. Of course he doesn’t. How could he have known a silly kid like me had such a huge crush on him?
The least I can do is tell him about it. “I had…a stupid teenage crush on you back then. And hearing you say you didn’t feel the same way hurt my feelings.” There. The truth is out. And the way he’s looking at me in shock makes me wish I could take it back.
“You had a crush on me?”
I nod, avoiding eye contact with him. “It was stupid and ridiculous. But don’t worry, I’m over it now.”
Of all the ways he could have reacted to my confession, I never expected him to start laughing. What the fuck? Now all I feel now is insecure. I’m desperate to run away and bury myself in a hole.
“Yeah, my adolescent feelings for you are pretty damn funny,” I say with sarcasm. “Go ahead, laugh for as long as you want.” Nice to know I was right about him not feeling the same for me—then or now.
Breaking free from his grasp, I walk hustle to my room and slam the door behind me. I don’t need any more humiliation than what I already feel.