"No, it isn't."
His mouth closes.
"That's who you are. And I love that about you."
The word slips out so easily that neither of us moves.
We both hear it, and I don't take it back.
My heart is already breaking. What exactly am I protecting now?
"But sometimes I stand in that room and I can't tell if I'm different from everyone else."
Sam stares at me.
"I don't want you to be worse to anybody else." My voice cracks, and I hate it, but I keep going. "I just want something that isn't theirs too. I want to feel like I mean something to you outside the walls of this apartment. Something more than just convenient."
His grip tightens around the unopened beer.
"One thing, Sam."
I swallow.
"Just one thing that is mine alone, that sets me apart from how you are with everyone else."
The apartment is so quiet I can hear traffic on the street below.
He could cross the room.
He doesn't.
"I'm the same person with everybody," he says.
My chest hurts.
"And I don't want to be everybody."
"That's just who I am. So I don't know what you want me to..."
"I want to matter differently to you. Not more than Bex or Summer or Marisol. I'm not asking to outrank anybody. I want something between us that doesn't look like what everybody else gets from you."
Sam goes still.
The words hang there between us, and I let them.
Saying it out loud makes my face burn, but there is no point protecting my pride now. I want something with Sam that belongs to us, something I don't have to squint at and wonder whether I invented it.
Sam rubs a hand across his jaw.
I watch him looking for a way around it.
That hurts more than if he'd gotten angry.
"Okay," I say.
His eyes come back to mine.
"Then tell me something."