Antonio, I like you too.

Rose's words from last night echoed throughout my head. She thought I was asleep, but I wasn't–I'd merely snored to throw her off. It was rather cruel of me, but I did it anyways.

I'd snuck out of her bedroom window early in the morning, while she was in a deep slumber. Before I left, I watched her. If anyone ever knew this, they'd think I was a weirdly obsessed stalker. Thankfully, no one would ever find out. My thoughts were mine, and mine alone.

The way her brown curls carelessly surrounded her head, the way her plump lips parted open just a sliver, the way she involuntarily curled into my arms, as though she yearned for my touch. My comfort. My protection.

I thought about everything she'd told me–of her past life, of her trauma. She was so strong; way tougher than anyone I'd ever known. I had a sense of, what was it, pride? Although, I couldn't resist feeling guilty. Rose had enough on her plate. To involve her in my life would be selfish. The truth was, I was bad for Rose. Someone like me, who often gets into fights, who smokes, who ditches school, who doesn't give a crap about anything, was bound to have some sort of influence on a girl like her.

I exhaled a puff of smoke and squinted up at the morning sun. Again, Rose's gentle voice echoed through my ears. Antonio, I like you too.

It should've elated me. My feelings were reciprocated. But rather, I felt disappointed. Not at her, of course, I could never be disappointed in Flower. It was more so aimed towards myself. For allowing myself to fall for her, for allowing her to fall for me.

Maybe I was thinking so hard about it because I'd never known affection like this. All I'd ever experienced were meaningless flings and stupid hook-ups. I didn't have much experience with any affection, honestly. How many people actually liked me? Benny, certainly. Romano, perhaps. My mother... I'll talk about her another day.

The other people in this town didn't truly like me. They respected me, sure, but did they really know who I was? Perhaps they merely liked the idea of me. The girls viewed me as a mysterious delinquent, and maybe I was, but there was more to me than just the surface. I was a real person with thoughts and hopes and dreams. How many of them actually knew that? No one. No one except Rose.

"You're still here?"

I turned around on the balcony. Benny was hovering in the doorway, dressed in what he usually wore–baggy jeans, a sweatshirt, and a baseball cap. I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised at his presence. After all, this was his house.

"Yeah," I eventually replied, offering him my cigarette. He waved me off.

"You coming to school?"

"Mhm. Going on my motorcycle."

"Alright, meet you there."

I waited for him to leave, but he didn't.

"What's the problem?" he asked. Curse Benny's intuitiveness.

"Nothing," I mumbled.

Am I worthy of affection? Is it selfish of me to like Rose?

Although I hadn't said a word, Benny somehow knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Stop doubting yourself."

He then left me alone on his balcony, leaving me to dwell over his words. I sighed and put out my cigarette, knowing that I'd just come to a realization. I didn't just like Rose. I loved her.

But to love someone, you have to be willing to make sacrifices. I would do anything to make Flower happy. Even if that meant leaving her.

• • •