The Truth
You hand her the bag and you put her arm around her shoulder and ask her if she's okay.
"I'm fine, but I feel like no one likes meee."
"What are you talking about? I like you."
"You're only saying that because you're my best friend. Deep down, I know you don't like me."
You look at her in disbelief, and you wonder why she could be saying something like this.
"What do you mean?" you ask, not sure if you even want the answer.
"I can see it in your eyes sometimes," she says as she removes your arm from her shoulder, "you look so done with me sometimes so I know you don't like me."
You think very carefully about what you say next.
"..."
"I'm fine, but I feel like no one likes meee."
"What are you talking about? I like you."
"You're only saying that because you're my best friend. Deep down, I know you don't like me."
You look at her in disbelief, and you wonder why she could be saying something like this.
"What do you mean?" you ask, not sure if you even want the answer.
"I can see it in your eyes sometimes," she says as she removes your arm from her shoulder, "you look so done with me sometimes so I know you don't like me."
You think very carefully about what you say next.
"..."