Whitefish River tonight i'll have a look and try to find my face again

His own insecurity quiets for a bit when Evergreen returns his nudge with more confidence than he'd managed, and after a few moments he manages to calm his racing heart. Unfortunately, that doesn't prepare him for the weight of his companion's next words. Suddenly, inexplicably, he feels guilty of some grievous crime, caught. He halts, breath catching a little, fully aware that the question shouldn't feel like confrontation, like the cold dread of impending doom. But it does.
I'm sorry, It spills from him anxiously, along with everything he's been trying so hard to keep at the back of his mind and firmly away from Evergreen. No, you didn't. I'm sorry, I — you're nice and I like you a lot — I mean, more than I should — and it's wrong, because you're a guy, and my friend and — I shouldn't have told you, I wasn't going to, I'm sorry, I'm — Going to go. He never finishes the sentence, because he's too busy turning to flee, not even waiting for a response.