"We need to talk." He said, as he walked up to her in Starbucks. "You need to hear me out."

"I overreacted, I know." She replied, "but can you blame me?" She raised an eyebrow, "you're my best friend, we're supposed to always have each others' backs. We're always supposed to be there for one another, not decided to leave half way through the year."

He put his hand over hers, "Char, here me out, please? You're my best friend, I love you-" he started, but she cut him off.

"You love me?-" she asked, then realised, "right best friend love, of course." She laughed nervously.

"What else could that mean?" He asked, clearly oblivious.

She cleared her throat, shaking her head, "nothing," she said, "nothing."

"I know when you're lying to me Charley, please tell me?" He asked but she refused. He clearly didn't know otherwise he would've said something every time she was writing, every time she was writing about him.

She wasn't creepy or stalkerish, he was her best friend. When she wrote, she either wrote her book or in a diary, and when she wrote about him not knowingly, it was in her book, when she wrote about him knowingly, expressing her feelings about him, it was in her diary. But when she wrote knowingly it was very rare and she started writing like that when she was much older than when she started writing her book.

He mostly asked her what she was writing about when she was writing her book, because he knew he shouldn't ask when she was writing her diary.

There was a difference in the way she wrote both when she was writing her book and when she was writing her diary. When she was writing her book, it looked so natural, it was like she wasn't even in the same world as him. He could see that. When she wrote in her diary, she was more wary of what was going on around her, it didn't seem natural, almost like she was forcing herself to write a diary.

She looked at him, when he asked her to tell him, and she didn't want to lie. She didn't want to lie to her best friend, the one person who understood her more than her own family. But she had to, if he didn't feel the same way it would ruin their friendship.

"Honestly it's nothing," she replied, "it's just I think I might like someone and I don't know what to do."

"Ask them out." He said simply, but she shook her head, it wasn't as easy as that, it was never as easy as that.

"It's not as easy as that," she repeated after saying it to herself several times before she answered. "I can't just come out and tell them, it's complicated."

"Charley, you're the nicest person I've ever met, you're my best friend. If I can ask someone out, then you can, believe me it's not as hard as it looks."

And then it hit her. He didn't feel the same way, he had asked someone else out. She swallowed and held her breath from letting out a gasp that would soon lead to tears.

"I need to go." She said suddenly, "I'll er, I'll see you later." She kissed his cheek, as a best friend would do, and ran out of the coffee shop as fast and as far as her legs would take her.

Which probably explains how she ended up in Times Square, walking around trying to find somewhere to relax and not think about anything or anyone at all.

What she didn't know is that Conor, ran after her, not knowing what the hell was going on with his best friend.

He thought he knew her, but clearly he thought I don't know her. Why the hell did she run off like that? He asked himself, one question he asked himself more than one time that day.

They were best friends; they're supposed to tell each other everything. No secrets, that's what they promised one another when they were old enough to understand what it was.

But clearly Charley had been keeping secrets for a long time, and Conor knew he would stop at nothing to find out what she was keeping from her that was so awful.

He wanted to know. He wanted to know why she didn't trust him he was scared.

Have I done something he kept asking herself, but he couldn't answer it. The only person who could didn't want to talk to him or look at him in the eye. She couldn't even tell him the truth, and that's what hurt the most, knowing that your best friend will not tell you the truth, and and you don't know the reason why they won't tell you. It's the worst feeling in the entire world.

She went into a shop in Times Square she had no idea what shop she was in, but she needed to get away, because her best friend the boy she loved was never going to love her back, and it literally broke her heart.

Conor eventually found her, apparently she was in American Eagle Outfitters, which explained why she didn't know the shop, she had never stepped foot in there before.

"Why the hell did you run away from Charley, tell me, please?" But she shook her head, no.

"I can't, if I told you, you'd never want to be my friend again, it would ruin our relationship, and it would ruin any other relationship you had." He raised an eyebrow and then chuckled.

"You mean the person I mentioned asking out?" I nodded, "just because I asked her out, doesn't exactly mean it went well. I asked her out, she said yes, we went on a date and then I realised that I didn't like her like that. That I didn't like anyone like that."

"No one, like at all?" She asked.

"No one." He said.

She scoffed, "right, no one." She looked away from him, "let's just go home please? I'm tired."

He nodded, "of course, yeah, let's go home." He grabbed her hand and with that led them back to where their accomodation.

When they got home she instantly, fell asleep on her bed. Conor came in to check on her and put a blanket over her gently, not waking her, before kissing her head and going into his own bedroom.

He was confused why she was keeping a secret from him, but if she can keep a secret then so can he, and he was very good at lying.

A/N: hope you enjoyed! If you did please give this a vote and comment to tell me what you thought and I'll see you guys in the next chapter.