“Ammu, are they coming?” I asked, pacing back and forth impatiently. “It’s already 8:49. When will they come?”

I might sound desperate to her, and I am desperate. I need to meet him, see him, and talk to him. I have so many things to tell him. Why was I acting so distant towards him? Why was I ignoring his feelings?

I also need to tell him everything I've been hiding from him all this time: my problems, my insecurities, and my stupid fear. 

I need to clear up the mess I’d created between us, the mess that led to him breaking our friendship and lying to our parents about liking someone else.

God! When I heard that from my mother, it felt like a knife stabbing to my heart. Again and again. Not because he lied, but because of the thought that he might actually like someone else, and not me.