SIX: GUILT

It's seven in the evening. Simon is getting us some cake and fruit salad, so while he's gone I wander around his room. It's so quiet and peaceful. There's a sound of soft wind from the window.

I missed it being here. Being so comfortable looking at his things like I used to do. But I carefully distance my hands from the frames on his desk. I get a feeling it won't be right to touch them yet. In that picture, there's me and him, probably, six years ago, outside their front yard eating ice cream in the middle of the night.

I remember that.

I remember he was pushing me to confess to him that I liked him if I don't do it, I have to buy us ice cream. It was a wreck dare because I couldn't say anything about confessing. I would never wanna lie about something I'd never feel.

“Sup?” Simon is back with two transparent glasses in his two hands. His eyes drops to the frame behind me. “Were you looking at those?” He asks with a familiar smile hanging ton his lips.

I nod, “Yeah. You know it'