Porcelain Skin (NOW ON AMAZON KU)

41. We're Just Partner's, Right?

I feel his muscles grow taut and his arms fly away from me in a sign of panicked surrender. I move away from him just enough to escape the discomfort of such close proximity, and then glance up at him sheepishly.

"I was kidding," I mumble. "I know you weren't flirting. We're barely friends, right?" My breath catches as another possibility dawns on me. "Are we friends?"

Trevor looks at me closely for a moment, while I hold my breath waiting for him to confirm that we are friends - besties even. But instead, he laughs. He laughs! And I can't help but wonder if he's laughing at me or just at the uncomfortable situation.

"I'm sorry," he says with a couple huffs of laughter. "I was just messing around. I didn't mean to make you think that."

My shoulders fall, and I realize it's obvious when concern flashes across his features. What exactly did he not mean to make me think? That he was flirting? Or that we're friends?

"Emma," he begins, his voice husky as he tries to speak gently, "I like you. I do. You're a cool person. I just... we can't." He ruffles his hair in agitation; all humor has been forgotten. There's a long, heavy silence that I refuse to break as I wait for him to continue. "We're just partners..." another pause. "Right?"

The question throws me off guard because something about the way he says it doesn't make it feel like a question. It's like he's trying to convince himself of his own words. It'd be similar to someone saying, 'We're gonna die, aren't we?' while fighting an apocalyptic war with flesh-eating zombies closing in on them. Trevor wants me to confirm his words; yet, it doesn't feel like he wants them to be true.

And though there's insecurity laced within his question, my mind quickly dismisses the hopeful possibilities. Instead, it snags on the words themselves rather than the likely underlying connotation. 

It's that stupid word again. Partners. Sometimes I worry that we will never get over this speed bump. And once our project is done, then what? We're no longer partners, so then what are we? Friends? 

Are we friends? 

He never confirmed or denied my question, so there's no way for me to know. My heart sinks just a bit further. I had thought that we had come so far. Lindsey had planted so much hope in me yesterday that I really thought something more was possible. I thought he might actually like me.

Reality hits me like a bus. Of course he wouldn't. I'm still that stupid little girl who hurt his baby sister. And, though he claims to have put that behind him, I'm wondering if he ever really did forgive me.

I realize he's watching me as I examine my fingers. I glance up to meet his gaze and force a smile onto my lips. There's guilt written within the tint of his pale olive eyes.

"Right." I try and sound confident but it's a failed attempt.

He obviously knows that he's hurt my feelings as disappointment creases his brow, but apparently, he meant what he said because he's not in any hurry to correct himself.

"Okay, partner," I say. "Let's just finish this project then."

"Emma, listen..." He reaches out and gently touches my knee. 

I look down at the contact before meeting his gaze. 

"I know this is the most cliche, overused line on the planet, but..." he pauses briefly. "It's honestly not you. I've seen that you're not who you used to be. You're nice and friendly and caring, but it just can't happen. We can't happen." 

I feel my chest pull inwards, as my wild heart pushes back. The flicker of hope that had started to sparkle to life dies, but I nod as if I completely understand.