She closes her eyes. I know she doesn't feel the same. I've always known. But when she opens her eyes, there are tears. I had expected anger. "Why would you put me in this position?" she whispers.

I look away and roll back on my back. "I'm sorry," I breathe.

"I thought we were like sisters, Mia. I didn't know you felt like this." She's silent for a long while. "It makes sense, though, I guess," she finally says after a while. "You never looked at me when I was changing. I caught you staring at me when we were swimming at summer camp in eighth grade. Your anger at Ryan and I getting together... Oh, Mia." She starts crying.

"I'm sorry," I repeat.

"How long?"

She was asking how long I've loved her. I close my eyes. "Not long..." I mumble.

"How long, Mia," she pushes.

I start crying. "Since sixth grade."

"And you never told me?" Her voice cracks.

"I couldn't," I mumble. "I didn't want to lose you."

"Mia, that wouldn't make me not be your friend anymore."

I look at her. "Are you sure?"

She smiles. "Positive."