My voice echoed around me before the room beyond my closet went deathly still. Harlow didn't say anything for a good minute and for a second it felt like everything had finally calmed down. 

The silence, the darkness and everything that concealed me in that dark closet seemed to form some comfort before Harlow opened her mouth again. 

"Then where did you get that Jersey?"

Taking a deep steadying breath I squeezed my eyes shut, it wasn't Harlow's fault my day was terrible. She just happened to be socially inept. This wasn't new. So I should be used to this. I shouldn't strangle her or imagine what it would be like to duct tape her lips shut. I still needed friends. Friends are important hence her and her obliviousness were important.

"Can't believe I am your best friend and I didn't even know you were gay?" Harlow said off handedly. Like this was the most casual topic in the entire world.

"I AM NOT GAY! OK!" my voice cracked on the last word and I pushed my forehead against the centre of my palm, "I AM NOT! I JUST... I AM NOT!"

The room plunged into silence again and I whispered, "I am not."

"Ok, sorry. You don't have to get upset. Even though you captioned the selfie with ‘Boyfriend Shirt’ followed by a couple of hearts. I mean what else can a girl imagine." 

I pulled my knees closer to my chest and dropped my head over them. If Harlow wanted to act like a snarky bitch she could do it alone. I didn't need to be part of it. She just didn't understand. Which makes sense cause she wasn't like me. If Harlow was ever like someone it would be Sam. She and him probably had more in common than she and I. I frowned wondering why thinking of Sam made me momentarily forget about my collapsing life. 

The sound of muffled laughter and footsteps drew near to the closet. And for one tense second I looked up anticipating the worst from behind the closed doors. It obviously could be possible that Harlow and the whole female basketball team of West Kingsley University were standing outside my door. She was part of the team and this would be something to talk about. And as much as that idea was unlikely, the possibility sent icy shivers down my back. 

Harlow opened the closet giving me a full view of her wide grin even through the curtain of shoulder length locks. She bent down and looked me in the eyes, "Are you ok?" 

"What do you think?" 

Harlow shrugged as her smile vanished, replaced by a small frown. 

"No Harlow! I am not fine! My life is ruined. My image is ruined and now people think I am gay. I am not. I swear I am not. I am not. I just...I am not. You have to believe me, I am not. I..." 

"Hey," Harlow's voice did something weird and for a second I almost mistook it as sounding gentle. She shifted closer and placed her hand over my shoulder, "Will... you know there is nothing wrong with being gay right?" 

"I know," I whispered, caught off guard by her calling me Will instead of Will'os. I shook my head gently and stared her in the eyes, "But I am not. I am not gay. I swear." 

Harlow didn't look like she was buying it. Which made me feel worse because I needed her to believe it. How was I supposed to believe it if she didn't believe it? 

She didn't say much else except nod.

"Ok." She said, and for whatever Freudian reason that acceptance did not make me feel better like I thought it would. Instead it made me feel like something else inside me died, "How about you explain the shirt."

"The shirt..." I whispered.

Harlow nodded, "Yes, the boyfriend shirt."

Harlow kicked off her Jordans and squeezed into the closet beside me. I watched as some stray dry flakes of mud fell off her sneakers sinking into my carpet. I smiled forlornly, even if everything changed for me today at least Harlow would always be the same. Of course the idea of having my mum scold me for the dry muddy prints leading to my bedroom made me question how great that sentiment was. 

"Sorry for teasing you," Harlow said, reaching over for my hand in the least subtle way ever. She squeezed my hand once before extending her free hand to close the door of the closet. The moment darkness engulfed us her body stiffened beside me and I did everything I could to hold back a laugh. 

"Still afraid of the dark?" 

"No."

I smiled at her attempt in denial, "Nice try."

"It's a logical fear ok. Leave me alone. I am trying to be a good friend here." She said shuffling around in the cramped space. 

"Stop fidgeting! There is not enough room for the both of us in here and your hand is getting clammy." I squeezed her hand and rolled my eyes. 

"Yeah, well, we wouldn't need to do this in here if you could just have your breakdown in a bed under the lights like a normal person. But here we are, so suck it up and let me try and make this better." She huffed beside me.

"Definitely feeling better. All these hugs and soft encouraging words are doing wonders." 

"You don't need to be a snarky drama queen about everything," She whispered as if I couldn't hear her. 

Harlow shifted one more time before she let out a slow, long exhale. She squeezed my hand a couple of times and then with what sounded like conviction she finally spoke, "Talk to me, who's the guy? What's going on?"