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sixteen • palazzo

☂ sixteen: palazzo

Carter pulled away from me as if I had just burned him.

"You win," he said quietly to himself, almost like a question, as he tried to process what I just said. Believe me, I was still trying to understand what I just said.

Carter's repetition eventually faded to my subconscious as I played with the folds of my dress, deep in thought. I mentally slapped myself as I realized how stupid what I said was. The timing, the words, everything. Why did I say it? I don't even know. Maybe it was me not knowing how to handle all the emotions suddenly stirring inside of me or maybe it was the fact that the very bet that started our weird relationship was now coming to an end.

I nervously glanced up at Carter, who had finally seemed to stop repeating my words to himself. As if he had sensed my eyes on him, he looked up and caught my eyes with his. Except they were no longer full of warmth. They weren't full of anger either, but it would have been better off if they were. The look in his eyes almost broke me - a mixture of confusion and hurt.

I felt like I just murdered a puppy.

Carter cracked a wry smile. The emptiness in that smile shocked me, especially since I had become accustomed to his bright, stunning smiles. He let out a strangled laugh, laced with pain, as he ran his hand through his hair.

"You win," he stated one more excruciating time. "So that's all this was to you then? All this time, just some bet that you had to win?"

The softness in his voice scared me more than any yelling ever could have. "Carter, I -"

"Did any of this even mean anything to you?"

"Of course!" I said, defensively. "Why else would I have tried so hard to become friends with you again?"

"You tell me, winner. You couldn't have won if I wasn't speaking to you," he said with a sad smile.

"Given the reason why you weren't speaking to me in the first place, I think we both know that's not true," I retorted, catching the almost mocking nature of his use of "winner". As soon as the words left my mouth, however, I instantly regretted it. Bad move, Kennedy.

"Wow." I could hear the hurt in his voice.

"Wait, Carter, I didn't mean it like that."

Carter let out another strangled cry. "Really? Then what exactly did you mean, Kennedy? Because I don't know what was real or what wasn't anymore."

"It wasn't only about winning."

"Really? Then what was it about?" His words were laced with doubt, but I couldn't blame him. I didn't even know what the hell I was saying or thinking anymore.

"Carter, I -" I started, but the words caught in my throat, failing to make their way out.

"What is it, Kennedy?" Carter asked. I shook my head, because I couldn't muster anything up. Tears of frustration began to pool in my eyes, which only made me more flustered.

He took my shaking hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, something he knew helped calm me down. "Kennedy..." he trailed off. "If you feel the same, just tell me and I'm yours."

I looked at him, with my eyes glossed over. His eyes, though still filled with confusion and hurt, held a dangerous amount of hope in them. Here he was, after all the crap I'd put him through, sitting calmly and comforting me. Even though I had just completely blown up his sweet confession with two stupid words. Coming into our entire bet, I remembered thinking that I was too good for him, the egotistical maniac. He was everything I wasn't supposed to like. But now, I realized that he was too good for me. I screwed up, I was the stupid one, and yet, he was treating me like he had just broken my heart, not the other way around.