A coldness washed through his entire body. He pushed her away lightly, quickly, bewildered. Took a step back. He should've stepped back before.
The air turned silent, and their faces flushed. He couldn't get past the silence of the air, of the sunset, now.
"We're friends, Amy." He said roughly. Her eyebrows lowered, raised. Her eyes lost their wideness and their shine. Tom looked around, panicked. His hands came up to his head, pulling through his hair. A deepness settled behind everything. What had just happened? Tom hardly breathed.
"Oh." She said. She pulled a hand up to her hair, too, moving the clumps and curls to one side of her neck and then the other. "Tom, I--" She took a short breath, an inhale. "Sorry. I'm..." She sighed, and there was a thickness in the sound. "I'm sorry."
"Was I giving you mixed signals?" He asked quickly, sharply, eyebrows furrowed. He couldn't tell if he was angry or confused or annoyed-- it all blended in his stomach and in his skin and his blood, swirling like smoke through him. His skin burned.
"A bit, yes." She gained the same edge in her voice that he had. "Tom," She sighed. "You've never really given me much thought, have you? Given us much thought." She said. Both their faces were red. Tom furrowed his eyebrows, staring at her.
"Us? Amy, I'm with Becky." He said. "No." He felt the absence of light in the air. "Why would I?" He asked.
"Tom, because, well... Haven't I made it obvious?" Amy's voice gained a sadness, a tint of slowness and breath that it didn't have before. "I thought..." She shook her head, closed her eyes.
"I smile at you all the time. I sit next to you in class, sometimes. I let you borrow my pencils when you and Becky don't have any." She said. Her voice was like a plead, filled with a shake as if it was coming through from a string and two cans. Like it was coming through the ground. It vibrated the air around them. And Tom glanced away in disbelief, his eyes squinting, his mouth open slightly in a forming scoff.
"What? No, Amy. Thatâthat's just being nice. I've, well..." He swallowed. Amy seemed close to tears, and he couldn't deal with that. But he also couldn't be too friendlyâAmy had kissed him. He and Becky had hardly ever kissed. He couldn't be too nice or she would take it wrong. A nervousness ran through him. A darkness settled in him as it settled in the air. "I've got Becky. I never noticed those things you do, Amy. Or, I don't, uh... I haven't read into them like that, cause that's what all my other friends do." Tom said.
He ran a hand through his hair, feeling uneasy, feeling like he had nothing supporting him. "I don't like you... like that." Tom said. His voice was dry.
"Oh." Amy nodded.
"At all." He finished. "I just gotta make that known to you, Amy. I only like Becky. As long as I do, I ain't ever gonna like you like that." He said. He thought Amy's feelings had gone away when they were, like, ten. But apparently not.
"Sorry, Tom." She said. Her voice was dry, too. Tired and scratchy in its usual loudness. The sun settled into its darkness. "I... I needed to know for sure, I guess." She said, taking a good long look at him. "It's just that you've never really given me a chance, all these years--"
"With Becky here."
"Yes, with Becky here. And, so, I've never knew if it was just me feeling this. But, well... Now I know, I guess." Amy said.
"Yeah. I guess." He said. A bitterness was in his voice that he didn't want. He probably sounded too mean-- "I don't mean to be rude, but... I mean, you just kissed me, and... I'm not... into you." He said. Amy closed her eyes.
He was probably making it sting worse the more he talked.
A quiet fell between the two. Sticky and dipping like a pit, taking in the whole conversation. There was nowhere else to go from here.
"I gander they'll go, now. The feelings I've had. Now that I know for sure...?"
"Yeah." Tom said. "Sorry." He didn't really feel sorry, though. He felt nervous. He felt uncomfortable, knowing that Amy had still liked him all this time. That the drama and emotions from years ago were still there, for her. And that he hadn't known. Hadn't even guessed.
"Will you be alright, with Becky and I right there?" He asked anyway. He hoped she would be. He hoped she wouldn't try to kiss him again.
"...Yes. It'll show me how you two really feel, so maybe it'll help." She said. Her words in his ears felt unsupported and quiet. The dark air was collapsing around them.
"Let's head back." Tom said. Amy nodded quickly, tucking another strand behind her ear.
"Thanks for talking. It, um..." Nothing in the air. Boats passing by emptily. She swallowed. "...helped." Her voice was brief, sharp.
"Yeah, whatever." He said, then closed his eyes, paused, sighed deeply. He didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. "That's what friends are for." He said, then realized his deeper mistake. Every word made it worse. She smiled sadly and gave a grimace, and he did too. "Sorry." He said, shaking his head, laughing slightly. A bitter humor.
"I'll heal." She said with that same uncomfortable smile. The sunset was over, now. They walked home.