The Sparrow

Den Tyumentsov—my brother’s friend and my future husband. That’s what I decided, because I’ve loved him for years already. He’ll have to accept it, even if he hasn’t noticed me yet.
— Den.
— Mm? Thanks for not turning me in to my brother.
He stops, scratches the lobe of his ear, and turns toward me.
— I didn’t have time.
— Got it— I sigh with disappointment. — So you’ll tell me?
— I won’t.
— Really?
I stay quiet about the club, and you forget about what happened in my room.
— Why? If he says right now that he nearly vomited and that it disgusted him to kiss me, I swear I’ll hit him.
— Because nothing happened— he answers evenly— you dreamed it all.