Before we walk home, I treat ____ to ice cream from the cafeteria. I get chocolate, and she gets vanilla. As we’re our treats, we joke around a lot. I’m glad that things seem to be going back to normal.

We’re walking home, side by side, our strides equal.

“Dongjun,” ____ starts. “Thank you for helping me today.” Her words come slowly. It must be hard to say something so out of the norm for us.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, brushing off her thanks. Being all sentimental with her makes me feel weird. It feels kind of good, but it’s too different from what I’m used to.

“No, I want you to accept my gratitude!” ____ insists. I shake my head and walk ahead, quickening my step.

“Why did you help me, then, if you didn’t do it for my thanks, or if you weren’t going to ask for anything in return?” She calls out. We have reached the end of our street.

I stop walking, whip around, and say, “You think I helped clean up because I wanted to hear you say ‘thank you’, or to make you feel indebted to me? Of course not, I wasn’t doing it to look good, I did it because..” My words trail.

“Because what?” Her tone gets seriously quiet.

I think fast. “Because you love me, and would have been glad to have my help.”

____ snorts and practically starts running to her house. “Yeah, right, Dongjun. Everything you do is for me, just so my little heart that pines for you will be satisfied.” Her tone is overly sarcastic, and is beginning to slightly annoy me. I run after her.

She is at the steps of her house and is about to storm in. “Wait!” I call out. “You’re right, I didn’t do it because you love me.” ____ stops and turns to face me, her eyes boring deep into mine. I gulp and take a deep breath. There must be something excited in my stomach, because I feel all jittery and nervous.

“I did it because,” my voice is extremely quiet, but somehow ____ still hears me. I can’t seem to look at her face anymore, so I aim my eyes to the ground in front of me. “Because I love you.”

I can feel my face turn red as I tell the truth. I want to stand and wait for her reaction, for her reply, but my body has had enough. It dashes down the street and into my house, all the way up the stairs until I’ve reached my room and am safely under my sheets.

I’m such an idiot. Why did I tell her? Now things will feel all weird, she won’t ever look at me the same. I dread going to school tomorrow.