I can't let him put himself at risk. Doesn't he understand thathe'sthe one who could end up hurt or in jail if he went after Robin? Orworse?I couldn't handle losing him! Doesn't he get that?!
We glare at each other for several moments until my eyes glisten with tears. He's grappling internally, it's palpable, but I don't care. This isn't his fight.
Finally he sighs, exhaling his defeat. "I wasn't planning anything, Rory. I wasn't going after him, but that doesn't mean I don't want to," he says slowly.
"I don't want you diggin' into my past. It's got nothin' to do with you," I say equally carefully.
Sam winces, like I've offended him. He watches me for a few moments, and I can see the cogs turning in his mind as he considers me. I've never wished I could read someone's thoughts as much as I do right now.
He chews the inside of his cheek and swallows, immediately putting me on edge. "Tell me something. Why is it I couldn't find this best friend of yours on any social media sites? ThisCam?"
Pressure seizes my chest.Why the hell was he looking up Cam?
"What?" It comes out as a gasp, and this makes Sam suspicious. But I can't talk about Cam - not with him - not with anyone. I don't even talk about him with Dr. Schall.
Sam shrugs, but his expression is anything but casual. "Like I said, I was curious. And I couldn't find anyone anywhere close to our year that could go by that name."
My voice lodges in my throat, and I just blink at him, half in shock.
"What am I missing, Rory? How does someone go from your best friend who photographs your injuries for the police, to just abandoning you? It doesn't make sense," he accuses. What he's accusing me of, though, I've no idea, but I still can't form words. The mention of Cam has my pulse flying somewhere in outer space, and my heart in ruins.
My fingers gingerly feel the purse strap on my shoulder, because it contains my pills, and I just need the reminder that they are there.
"Are you and thisCammore than just best friends, Rory?" Sam asks, his voice deceptively softer.
"I... We..." I stammer like an idiot, trying to figure out how to explain what I don't even know myself.
Sam chews on his bottom lip and nods as if I just made some kind of confession. I can guess what he's thinking, but I can neither confirm nor deny anything. I can do nothing more than stand here like a pathetic fool.
"And what would he say if he knew whatyou and Iwere up to all afternoon?" Sam asks, devoid of any discernible emotion.
I narrow my eyes, scowling in what is obviously a defensive maneuver, but it's all I can do. I take a deep breath. "He wouldn't be pleased," I snap. No, as it turned out, I know now that Cam wanted me for himself.
Sam's eyes narrow even further. We seem to be at a standstill, and I don't know what to do. I don't want to fight with him, but I don't know how to fix it. This is none of his business, damn it! This is no one's business!
"I see," Sam mutters quietly.
"No, you don't!"
"Then make me, Rory! Make me understand!"
But I can't. Beads of sweat break out on the tip of my nose and forehead. My breaths come too fast, too shallow, and I try to get ahold of my emotions. "Calculus," I whisper.
Sam's mouth drops open, his eyebrows raise in astonishment."Seriously?"
I say nothing. My fingers drift to my purse, making out the shape of my pill bottle and grabbing it through the thin fabric, just feeling the shape of it, reminding myself again that I have them.
Sam's gaze follows my hand and he winces. He shoves both hands through his hair, one after the other before closing his eyes and shaking his head once. "Whatever, Rory, forget it," he murmurs defeatedly.
I open my mouth to speak, but words evade me and we just stare at each other.
And this, I remind myself, is why we can never have anything real. I knew, at some point, I would fuck it up. My scars run too deep. Like Sam said, I can't even look at a photo of Robin without panicking, and how is that normal? And even that - it's just a symptom of greater damage. Because Sam has a right to ask questions, if we were going to besomething more, but I can't give him answers. Not all the answers he wants.
And I can't even handle the inquisition without relying on medication, and how is that fair? How is it fair that Sam must concede because I cry mercy with a safe word or by feeling for a pill bottle? How could he not resent that? Even I resent it.
This was always going to be temporary. I've known it all along. Sure, I hoped it would have lasted for more than twelve freaking hours - at least for spring break - but better to let go now. If I'm this attached already, imagine how far gone I'd be in three more days? I try to convince myself of this again and again, though in my heart I already know I'm as in love with him as I could ever be. That there's no coming back now. The thought hurts, but what difference does it make?
He could never have returned my feelings anyway. I know the pain is coming, but I don't cry. Not in front of him. Right now, I force myself to feel numb, because I don't deserve any more of his sympathy.
