“I love you,” I interrupt him. Calm. Even. I think I hear him die. “Maya.” “I love you.” “No.” “I love you. And you are my best friend.” “No.” “I don’t care that you’re older. I don’t care that you work all the time. I don’t even care if your weird brain wants to pretend that we’re just platonic pen pals until I hit thirty. I will wait for it. I will wait for you.” “No.”
