Unspeakable

Chapter Fifteen- Y/n

So, my best friend in the entire world likes me and I never knew; that's a new one. I've heard stories of this happening but I never thought it'd happen to ME. All those times we fell asleep together, listening to the soft humming of each other's hearts while my head laid on his chest and his on the top of mine, was it all a lie? Or at least to me anyway?
      I felt my anxiety coming through me, slowly rising higher and higher as new questions and probabilities flowed through my brain. Tears started rolling down my cheeks, my brain not even having the strength to hold them back. Everything that has happened between us, both good and bad, was it all because he liked me? How long has he felt this way? Is it recent or from the start? Did I mishear and took everything the wrong way or was I actually right?
      The door opened and I averted my dazed-out gaze towards the entryway, seeing Sam come in with a steaming bowl of hot soup in his hands over a potholder. I gave a weak smile, quickly brushing my watery eyes to seem normal when really, I was feeling everything but normal.
      The fact that I've been friends with them so long surely doesn't help in my current situation because Sam looked at me with all-knowing eyes, seeing right through my phoney face. He came over and sat at the edge of my bedside, setting down the bowl of soup that my stomach so desperately craved on the nightstand. I outstretched my arms and tried to grab it, opening and closing my fists like a baby attempting to reach its favorite toy that got snatched out of its grip.
    "Gimme, gimme!" I demanded in a childlike tone, letting out a sniffle from my previous tears.
    "Not until you tell me why you were just crying," he told me sternly while still wearing a warm and concerned smile. I rolled my eyes, folding my arms. Ok, Holland, if you wanna play this game we will. It's on.
   "You tell me why," I challenged, my frown turning upside down to form a small, competitive smirk. He looked at me with perplexed yet knowing eyes, visibly not quite sure what I was getting at. As if a nonchalant light bulb went off in his brain, his eyes receded and a quick half smile was placed upon his lips before shifting into a "confused" expression.  
  "Well it must be because of the whole mono thing," he observed, stroking his chin playfully while both us knew what was going on, not about to admit it to each other.
  "Well that just adds to it, yes," I told him, putting on a similar expression.
   "Did you have a nightmare while you napped?" he asked, making me squirm due to his cleverness.
   "No, it was because of something that happened after I woke up," I answered through slightly gritted teeth, becoming more and more annoyed at his "ignorance" towards the question. He glanced behind me, rubbing his chin once more, knowing full well it would make me even more irritated.
   "Oh, well if it's on your mind you should talk about it," he told me, trying to make me fold like I always do. Sorry, Holland. Hate to break it to you but this is different, there's no arm of mine to twist in this situation, you're not getting it out of me that easy this time. I put on a confident smirk, tilting my head up and glancing down at him, letting out a small laugh while I laid my head back on my pillow, looking him straight in the face.
   "And you should try to jog my memory," I said in a conniving tone, upping the game to a disastrous level, well, for him anyway.
  "Start telling me about it and I'll try," he shot back rather quickly, catching me off guard at his swiftness. Ok, I can do this, it's gonna be obvious but he's gonna be the one to break first and tell me what we're talking about here, not me.
   "Ok," I started to say, pausing for a second to find amusement in his suddenly surprised face, unable to believe I actually folded; or so he thought.
   "Well, I woke up from my nap right? So, I got up and went to the kitchen, hearing Harry say something. Something like, 'so you like her?', so naturally my interest rose, especially when Haz replied, admitting he liked a girl. But I didn't hear who it was. Who were you guys talking about, Sam?" I asked in an innocent yet devious tone, both of us knowing the answer to the question I just asked while not about to admit it to each other.
   "Is that why you were crying? Because Haz liked some girl?" he countered, taking this thing of ours to a nearly unbeatable level. Too bad (for him)  I've been friends with each of them for so long that I've picked up on a few things, especially in winning game after game based off of wit. After all, it does take awhile for the student to beat the master, or, in my case, masters. But I wasn't letting my main mentor defeat me that quickly, not this time.
  "No, it was because my best mate didn't tell me he liked someone. Now, Sam, who was it?" I asked intently, nearly pausing after each word I spoke.
   "I think that's for Harrison to say."
   That's it.
   "If you wanna stay on my good side, Sam, I'd say who it is,"
   "I thought I was on your bad side," he smirked, his face moving an inch closer towards mine.
     "You'd receive some 'redeeming' let's say," I contested, sitting up and folding my arms, transferring my head from the back of the pillow to about a foot away from his face. He let out a smirk, telling me it wasn't going to be that easy.
     "I don't know how I could after what I did."
     "There's a way."
     "And that would be...?" he asked coyly, releasing a sly smirk. Our faces moved closer with each sentence spoken between us, resulting in us being six inches apart. We looked daringly into each other's eyes, waiting for the next player to make the first move. Without a trill or stutter in my voice, I stared him dead in the eyes, never averting my gaze to anything else but his.
    "Telling me who she is," I fired back, the tints of our irises seemingly fusing together. Before I could contemplate what was going on, his face suddenly jerked towards mine, catching me off guard at the almost kiss. I rapidly pulled back, nearly getting a headrush from the out-of-the-blue movements. I stared at him, unable to speak or think or do anything.
    "B-but Sam-, H-Harrison, how could you do that to him? And me?" I asked in a breathless tone, not sure how to react to anything. He shot up from the bed and pointed at me, a giant grin sweeping across his face, signaling my brain to figure out what was going on.
    "HA!" he yelled in a triumphant tone, throwing his arms up to the ceiling in success.
    "KNEW THAT WOULD GET YOU TO CRACK!" he cheered, breaking into a fit of laughter upon his victory.
    "DANGGIT!" I bellowed in agony, holding my head from the pain of losing.
    "AHAHAHAHA!" he shouted over and over to annoy me, continuously pointing at me as he strolled out the door.
    He closed the door but before latching it, he stuck his face through the opening one last time and let out a final 'HA! LOSER!', causing me to fume with more anger than ever before and sprint towards the door, about to slam it in his face. A panicked look replaced his jubilant one and he quickly shut the door, making me smile in my small triumph.
    I let out a heavy sigh, falling back on my bed dramatically, wishing I was dead in a hole instead of losing the game I started. I can't believe he pretended he was about to kiss me just to get me to crack, but I'm glad my knee jerk responses kicked in just in the nick of time.
    I leaned back to prop myself against the pillow, grabbing the long-awaited and warm bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup. I brought a spoon full up to my mouth, immediately "mmm"-ing at it's delicious taste. My mind wandered off from the soup back to what had just happened, er, almost happened.
     I mean, I know it was just for our little charade and didn't just happen in the moment, but what would've happened if I didn't pull away? Would he have kissed me...or would he have stopped? I mean we were already so close, if I didn't jerk back when I did he would've absolutely kissed me not even a millisecond later. That's only if he didn't stop though, which I'm 100% sure he would've.
    We all know how we genuinely feel about each other after spin the bottle, and none of them have feelings for me or I them, which is a giant relief on all our behalf. But I guess I just never contemplated how the person who didn't get to do the dirty deed the game required felt, instead focusing on the ones who did. Man, he probably really wanted me to kiss him, but would've that been good for us? Would something between us change if it did happen?
      Then it came; the question my mind had somehow ignored until just now. 
      Do I wish we had kissed?
      Do I like Harrison James Osterfield more than just my best mate?