12. Archer
ARCHER
Age Seventeen
“Oh, fuck. It smells so good in here. Thank God for Dahlia Ramos.” Macie’s voice rings out from the front of the house before the door shuts.
I’m pinned to my barstool at the kitchen island while Willow leaps from her place next to me, her footsteps echoing across the floor before a fit of giggles erupts behind me.
I keep my eyes fixed on my hands atop the counter as a flurry of movement enters my periphery.
Greetings and hugs. Piles of food set down on the island. All so lively while I die inside.
My family arrived at our joint vacation home last night so my mom could be up early this morning and surprise everyone with brunch.
She’s currently finishing up her famous strawberry French toast while my dad makes bacon and eggs on the Blackstone outside.
The rest of our family arrived about an hour ago.
Carter and Penelope are also joint owners of the house here in Lake Arrowhead, but they’re staying back in Santa Monica with their foster son, Weston, this year.
Willow and Allie speak in hushed tones as they enter the kitchen, but I don’t lift my head to look at them.
I’ve never felt this way about Allie before—hesitant.
Fearful. Fucking cowardly. She’s always created a sense of urgency within me—to see her face, touch her skin, hear her laugh.
An excitement to be within her presence.
A sense of pride that I get to know her.
Now, it’s all painful. A reminder she’s not mine. Not in the way I want her to be.
We haven’t seen each other since I crawled out of her window in the early morning after ruining her school dance about a month ago.
We’ve hardly talked, either. I told her, “Happy Hanukkah,” and she texted me on Christmas morning, but that was it.
We decided not to take our connection further for the sake of our lifelong friendship, but now it’s as if we can’t navigate that anymore, either.
I don’t know where the fuck we go from here, and I’m terrified to face her because of it.
“Hey, Archer,” her voice—soft and ethereal, yet reluctant and perhaps fearful—floats through my being, setting every molecule inside me on fire.
I lift my head, finally meeting her piercing brown eyes from across the counter. She’s fresh-faced and beautiful, wearing a thermal long-sleeve shirt that fits her petite body too well and a pair of leggings. Her hair is straight—a look I’ve never seen on her before.
“You changed your hair,” is my stupid fucking response.
“Oh.” She glances down at her shoulder, running her fingers through the strands. It’s so much longer like this. “Yeah… I thought maybe it was time for something different.”
“It’s what her boyfriend, Chase, likes,” Willow mutters, nudging her.
I frown. Why the fuck would she change her appearance for a guy? And who the fuck is Chase? And how could she already have a boyfriend when we were just together weeks ago? Hell, it’s hardly been three months since I took her goddamn virginity!
That knowledge is a slap in the face, and when Allie’s bottom lip trembles and she flicks her gaze away from me, I wonder if the fire raging inside my veins is flaming in my eyes too.
“I like your curls better,” I murmur, sliding off my stool and stomping toward the back door, the air inside the house suddenly suffocating with the taste of betrayal.
I take a deep inhale as I shut the glass door behind me—crisp mountain air and the sizzling of bacon infiltrating my senses.
My dad glances over his shoulder, face brightening when he realizes it’s me. “Hey, Bud.”
“Hey.” I sigh as I step up to the deck railing, leaning against it. Snow-capped evergreens stretch beyond us, the lake sparkling in the distance at the base of the mountains.
The lodge our parents own is extravagant—a basement with two bedrooms that us kids have been sharing since we were young. The main level and upstairs bedrooms, plus the loft above the detached garage, are split between all the adults and my sister when she visits too.
The back deck on the main level overlooks the lake. There is an expansive seating area, a firepit, and a hot tub at the left end. Elena, Darby, and my sister currently sit around crackling embers, drinking coffee and reading.
I love the lodge. I’ve always loved our family vacations here.
Most years we come out for a ski trip over winter break and try to join up for at least one camping trip in the summer.
But every so often we come for Christmas or New Year’s Eve.
As much as I love the ocean, there is something about the freshness of the air up here, the wide range of color, and the chill that has electricity thrumming inside me.
It’s peaceful. It was a place I’ve always associated with Allie and the happiest moments of our friendship, which makes this current visit that much more debilitating.
“You good, kid?” Dad asks.
“I…” I huff, shaking my head, gaze cast down at the treetops below me. “I don’t know.”
“Are the Evans here?” he asks softly.
I nod. “Her hair is straight. And she has a boyfriend.”
“Ah.” He sucks his teeth. “I’m sorry, Archer.
” Stepping away from the grill, he comes to stand beside me, placing his hand at the center of my back.
“I can’t pretend I have any understanding of the connection between the two of you.
That shit is…” He breathes a laugh. “Something unique. But what I can promise you is that she loves you. I do know that. Whatever she’s going through right now is something she’s figuring out for herself.
It’s not a reflection on you or what you mean to her. ”
“Isn’t that the problem, though?” I ask, turning to look at him. “I don’t need to figure out a goddamn thing. I already know she’s the only girl I want. I always choose her.”
Dad’s features soften, a wistful, closed-lip smile stretching over his mouth. “You also chose football, Bud. Don’t you think Allie might want to feel like she’s in control of her choices too? Maybe that’s what she’s trying to do here.”
“She is the one that chose for us to not be together!” I’m loud enough that my aunts and sister glance up from their books on the other side of the deck. I drop my head into my hands. “She told me to pursue this.”
“Because she loves you,” Dad responds, going back to the grill.
I know it’s unfair that Allie and I fell apart because of my actions and my future.
I could’ve chosen to attend college with Allie this entire time.
I could’ve chosen to miss that scout dinner with Texas University.
I could’ve chosen her over football a thousand other times in my life when I signed up for a camp or a training session or an extra practice instead of spending time with her.
She’s never blamed me for it, and I know that she wouldn’t have had it any other way. She’s always been my biggest supporter, and the loudest advocate for my future—more than my parents, even.
I’ve tried to be the same for her. It’s why I didn’t push her to apply to any of the universities I did.
My life goal is football—in whatever capacity I can accomplish it.
Hers is to be known for her warmth and creativity, and she’s found an avenue to express those qualities through the food she makes.
I know her dream is to own my mother’s bakery.
Allie’s always romanticized Pacific Shores—I think because she didn’t grow up there.
I’d never want to take that away from her, the same way she’d never take football from me.
Except… I didn’t hear back from Texas University after that dinner in November.
I was told they would reach out before the end of the year if I was going to be offered a place on their team, and today is December thirty-first. While I have heard from a few other universities, I decided if I wasn’t going to attend TU, I was going to choose Allie.
“I planned on telling her this weekend,” I say to my dad, tone gruff and strained. “That I’m not going to TU. That I’m going to commit to Golden State in February.” My voice breaks when I add, “I thought we could finally be together after that.”
My dad plates the food before he faces me and sighs. “First of all, you don’t know that yet. They might still call. Secondly, we’ve met with several other schools with much better football programs than Golden State. You have no shortage of options.”
TU was the ultimate dream, and even that almost wasn’t enough to stop me from choosing Allie instead, so I can’t find it in me to care much about my other options. Especially not now that I’m facing the effects of losing her.
“I want her.” I wipe a hand down my face, feeling drained. Hollow. Empty. “Guess it doesn’t matter now, since she has a boyfriend.”
The door behind us creaks, causing both Dad and me to startle and spin around. Dom steps out onto the deck, eyes narrowed as he watches us, running a dark hand over the scruff on his jaw. “I came to make the eggs, but I see you’ve already done that.”
Dad snorts a laugh. “You’re not the authority on eggs.”
“I should be.”
I take this as the end of my conversation with my dad, maneuvering around him and past Dom to reach the door.
“Archer?” Dom calls.
I turn on my heel, forcing a smile. “Yeah?”
“Does it make you feel better if I tell you I don’t like him?”
I shrug. “You don’t like me either.”
His brows draw together as he cocks his head, shaking it gently. “That’s not true, Archer. I love you. The same way I love your siblings and Willow, but I walked in on you having sex with my only child.”
My stomach falls to my ass at the memory, and I stumble back a little.
“So, I’m still learning how to look you in the eye again because I used to change your diapers, and I don’t really know how to navigate all that. Sometimes my fatherly instincts want to be a little mean to you. I’m working on it.”
My dad snorts beside him. “Stop traumatizing my kid.”