how you get the boy

twelve

"Shit," Shiloh cursed under her breath as she looked at me, disbelief clouding her eyes after having heard what I'd just told her. The look disappeared a few seconds later, though, when she suddenly started giggling, her hand slapped over her mouth like she was trying to suppress the laughter from tumbling out of her lips.

"What?" I frowned at her as I pushed my iced tea away from me. "Why're you laughing?"

She shook her head, still trying to hold back her laughter. She didn't do a bloody good job at that, unfortunately, because I could see tears forming in her eyes and I wanted so badly to punch her arms so I could stop her from laughing at me. I was pretty certain that what I'd just told her wasn't funny at all. In fact, I'd spoken in a serious tone – something that I rarely did, for I loved to avoid talking about serious matter – and somehow, Shiloh still found something amusing about the content of my story.

"I just can't believe it," she said then and I kicked her leg under the table. "'m sorry, s'just.. I didn't think you'd ever talked about Harry like this."

"Like what?" I questioned her, eager to know what she meant by that. Shiloh, of course, took her sweet time by staring at me as if that could help me get the answer.

After what had happened between Harry and I two nights ago, the only rational thought I could form was that I needed Shiloh to know about it so she could shed some lights on this complication. So far, apart from getting to unburden this heavy weight on my chest to her, I regretted opening my mouth and telling her everything. 

"Tee, I think you like him," she said after a few seconds of silence and my eyes widened in horror. She did not just say that. "No, wait, I know you like him, Tee."

I quickly shook my head, words of denial slipping past my lips as though they had been sitting on my tongue for a while and was relieved that they were finally spoken. It was a mistake, though, for Shiloh didn't believe a single syllable from me.

"Shi, don't be ridiculous," I shook my head as I reached for my iced tea and took a few sips of it. I tried to ignore the look she was giving me – one that I was very familiar with – and focused on the two people having lunch next to our table. They'd been speaking in hushed tones and I could only assume they were having a conversation that was somewhat similar to ours.

"You are being ridiculous, Tenley," Shiloh said after she kicked my foot to grab my attention, which she got it when I looked at her to scowl, "What's so bad about admitting that you do like him?"

I rolled my eyes, "You mean what good will come out of it if I do admit that?"

Shiloh pointed her index finger at my face, her eyes widening and jaw hanging the same way they did when I told her that Harry and I had kissed. Not once, but three times. "So you do like him."

"When did I ever say that?" I crinkled my nose in disgust; I was pretty certain that throughout this conversation, not once had I ever put forward the idea that I liked Harry. Except for his kiss. I did admit that I liked his kiss, maybe a little too much.

"You asked me-"

"-No." I shook my head firmly, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Tee, please just admit-"

As soon as I heard the word 'admit' slipping past her lips, I pushed my chair back and stood up abruptly – which almost resulted in both our drinks spilling out of the glass – to slap a hand over her mouth, hindering her from finishing her sentence. God knew I didn't want to hear the rest of it. "Shiloh, I don't like him."

"You're trying to make yourself believe that you don't like him," she corrected me once she'd pushed my hand away from her face and I shook my head at her, running out of words to say to defend myself. I had always been good in denying things before but somehow this time I was terrible at it. It seemed like things had changed and I didn't like it. "Tee, there's something in your eyes when you talk 'bout him."