The Sweetest Fruit ( Tomboy 🏳️‍🌈Love Story )

19. confession

Sonia

I pull away from Kora, resisting the urge to wipe my lips. The kiss felt hollow, missing the spark I'd imagined-no butterflies, no fireworks. The weight of everyone's stares crushes me as I mutter an awkward apology and hurriedly walk in the direction MJ had disappeared.

Why did I even kiss her?

We were just with MJ in the library, laughing, kissing, touching now we will probably never talk to each other. Now, my thoughts churn as I drag my feet toward the boys' hostel.

The change in atmosphere hits me immediately. Unlike our dimly lit, graffiti-scarred dorms with peeling paint, the boys' hostel gleams like a luxury hotel. Polished marble floors reflect soft, steady lights from the ceiling-lights that actually work. The air smells faintly of pine and disinfectant, unlike the perpetual mildew back in our place.

I knock on Sam's door, and it opens to reveal him in a red satin robe and a ridiculous bonnet. His skin glows from what I assume must be hours of skincare experiments.

"What do I owe this pleasure?" he drawls, dabbing some cream on his forehead.

His room is spacious, with two neatly made beds, a compact fridge humming in the corner, and an en suite bathroom. The contrast is enough to spark jealousy. Why did they get this when our place felt like a condemned building?

I sigh, flopping onto his bed and closing my eyes. "Love is hard," I murmur. "Don't let the movies fool you."

Sam resumes his routine, scrubbing his face with precision. "What did MJ do this time?"

"Why do you think she did something?"

"You wouldn't be here if she hadn't."

He's not wrong, and I hate how transparent I am. "She's ruining me," I admit, picking at my nails. "Her lips are sucking the life out of me, leaving me dry and empty."

He smirks, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "I hate to say it, but I told you so."

I glare at him, but he shrugs. "How did I get here?" I whisper, tears finally spilling over.

The room grows quiet except for the faint hum of the fridge. Sam sits behind me, his hand gently rubbing my back. "You fell for the wrong person," he says softly, resting his head on my shoulder.

I break into sobs, the weight I've been carrying-from home, from MJ-pouring out in hot tears and strangled cries. His arms wrap around me tightly, grounding me.

"Sam, what do I do?" I manage to choke out between sobs.

His voice is calm, steady. "I don't know. That's something you have to figure out. But..." He pulls back slightly, wiping my face with his hands. "Love isn't easy. You just have to decide what you're willing to deal with. MJ's... a lot. Everyone knows that. But it's your choice."

I nod, a weak smile tugging at my lips. "Thank you."

The day drags on, punctuated by Sam experimenting with his skincare products on me. The smell of lavender and rosewater lingers as I finally leave his room, my heart heavy again.

Walking through the well-lit hallway, I feel the weight of everything pressing down. The floor seems to stretch endlessly, each step slower than the last.

When I reach our room, I push the door open. The familiar creak pulls MJ's attention from her phone. Her hair is messy, lines creasing her forehead as if she's been deep in thought. My palms sweat, and I wipe them on my jersey, letting my eyes dart anywhere but her.

"Why did you kiss Kora?" Her voice is cold, cutting through the silence.

"To hurt you," I replied bluntly, meeting her gaze. Her glassy eyes make my chest ache.

"Why?"

"Because you hurt me."

She runs a hand through her hair, biting her lip until it bleeds. The sight makes my stomach twist. "I know," she whispers. "And I'm sorry."

I take a deep breath, trying to hold back the scream building inside me. "MJ, we can't keep doing this dance."

She finally turns to face me fully. "What does that mean?"

"It means we need to decide right now if we're going to be something or not."

Her eyes widen, uncertainty flickering across her face. My heart hammers in my chest, terrified of her answer.

"And if we want this to be something?" she asks softly.

"Then we'll figure it out," I whisper.

Her hesitation is palpable, and it makes my knees weak. "I'm not good at relationships," she admits.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do."

The air feels thick, every word heavy. "I'm not going to force you to want me," I say after a long pause. "But you need to decide because I already know what I want."

Her face tightens. "It's complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it."

She exhales shakily. "It's just... I don't know how to feel when it comes to you. Sometimes I want to be around you, and other times I can't stand you."

The memory of my father flashes in my mind, and tears well up again. "Why can't you stand me?" My voice cracks.

Her gaze softens, and she moves closer, placing her cold hands on my thighs. "Please," I beg, needing answers.

"I'm scared of falling in love," she confesses. "And you scare me because you're so easy to fall for. You're kind, and you smile for no reason, even in your sleep."

A small smile breaks through my tears. I want nothing more than to curl up beside her.

"I don't hate you, Sony," she whispers. "I'm just messed up, and I'm scared I'll mess you up too."

I shake my head and sink to the floor, wrapping my arms around her neck. "I'm a mess too," I whisper back.

A/N: they are both hot messes