Chapter Sixteen

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Sam's eyes are sparkling

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Sam's eyes are sparkling. Her cheeks are flushed. She looks happy and carefree and so, so, alive, and my heart is breaking because she's not looking at me like that. I'm not the one making her laugh so hard she snorts.

When she arrived with Anthony, I wasn't sure what to expect. I thought—I mean, when I first saw them... Let's just say I was confused. I didn't know they even knew each other, and Sam telling me that "they only recognized each other because of me" is a whole other kind of pain.

And Anthony—I mean, I think I know the guy pretty well, besides all of the stuff about his family. And I've never seen him like that. He was grinning. I mean, I've seen him smile and stuff, of course, but he's always been so... restrained. Even his jokes were careful, deadpan and sly. He gave off an aura of complete control. I don't think I've ever seen him flirt before today.

I can't ask her out now. I mean, she's clearly not interested in me, and I guess—I mean, I know—that I don't want to ruin our friendship. What we have means too much, and I'm not going to wreck that when I'm fairly positive she doesn't like me like that. She's certainly never flirted with me like that.

"So. The project," Sam says, smiling at the girl who brings her her tea.

Right. The project. The real reason we're here. I try to pull my head back into the moment, to stuff my feelings away for later, but something must show on my face because Sam puts her hand on my arm, looking concerned.

"Hey," she says softly, brows drawn together in worry. "Is something wrong? Is it Anthony? Because I -"

"I'm fine." I know I'm being a jerk, and the twist of pain on her face fills me with guilt, but I can't bring myself to care right now.

"Right," Sam says, flipping open a notebook. "So, for our project, I was thinking about something to do with Psychology? Or maybe neuroscience? I've been reading a couple of studies on how our brain perceives the world around us, and how it can actually be subjective from person to person. I thought it would be cool—I mean, I know you're more into the tech side of things, and I like the science stuff—so I thought maybe we could combine the two somehow?"

"Mm," I hum noncommittally. Sam, having sucked in a breath after delivering her whole speech in less than 30 seconds, looks disappointed. I know I should try to be more enthusiastic, and I am. Trying, I mean.

"Okay, cool." Sam, subdued now, makes a note in her notebook and closes it with a snap.

"What are the deadlines?"

"Huh?"

"Y'know. We usually have to have a basic outline of our project to present to Mr. Green by a certain date." My voice is short. Clipped.

"Right, yeah. Sorry, I didn't hear you. We have until two weeks from now to come up with a basic outline and complete enough background research that we can explain our project moderately well."

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