12. Archer #2
“Your kid traumatized me.” Dom’s lips twitch, but a moment later, his face softens as he turns back to me and adds, “And for what it’s worth, I think you should still tell Allie how you feel about her. Life’s too short not to.”
I give him a shallow nod, and respond to my dad’s soft, “Love you, kid,” before I step back inside the house.
Thankfully, Allie and Willow are nowhere to be found when I reenter the kitchen.
As I make my way down to the basement, their muffled voices hum through the door of the bedroom beside mine.
I slip into Zander’s and my room, where he’s still out cold in the top bunk of the beds we outgrew years ago, his long limbs hanging off the sides as his snoring ricochets against the walls.
I sprawl out onto the bottom bunk, staring blankly at the slits in the wood of the bed above me as I mentally prepare myself for a weekend in Allie’s proximity, feeling farther away from her than ever.
The bump of 2020’s throwback music shakes the walls as I step out of the shower. It’s just past ten and the New Year’s Eve party is in full swing upstairs, but I’m in the basement by myself, pretending to be sick.
Brunch was excruciating—sitting across from Allie with nothing to say.
Every time our eyes met, I felt like my soul was disintegrating beneath her stare.
When I passed her in the kitchen and her perfume got caught in my nose, it was like inhaling devastation.
At one point, she had a drop of maple syrup stuck to her mouth, and I was buzzing with the urge to catch the slow drip of it from her bottom lip—my anguish thick and heavy like the liquid itself.
The heartbreak is tangible. It’s a living current, thrumming beneath my skin. It’s made me ill.
So, maybe I’m not pretending after all.
I told my mom this afternoon I wasn’t feeling well, and even she admitted I was clammy.
She ordered me to take a nap, then a shower, and have some tea before going to sleep early.
We’re all supposed to go skiing in the morning, and she said she’d rather I miss the party tonight than the ski trip tomorrow.
I agreed, mostly because it’s easier to avoid Allie with a mountain between us than a living room.
I did, in fact, take a nap earlier after I stole one of Zander’s joints from his bag and smoked it off the basement patio behind the garage. It knocked me out, and I woke up to soup and grilled cheese at my bedside table, with a signed note stuck to the plate. From Allie.
I ate the food, and it warmed me, and I love her. And it fucking hurts.
After, I stared at the ceiling—still stoned—for who knows how long before the music began and my brother texted me, asking if I’d be coming upstairs.
I responded that I was pretending not to feel well, and to tell anyone who asked that I was so sick I needed to be left alone.
Then, I finally peeled off my mattress and got into the shower.
I know I’m not actually coming down with something. I’m just down bad.
I fell in love with my best friend, and I gave her up for my dreams. Now, I’ve lost them both.
I think it might be giving me a fever.
I’m just wrapping a towel around my waist, steam still hazing the air, when I’m startled by the shaking of the knob on the bathroom door before it’s thrown open.
Allie stands in front of me, gaze narrowed and nostrils flared—breathtaking.
Her brown eyes blaze and sparkle beneath heavier makeup than she typically wears, and her full lips are plumped by a shiny red gloss.
Her arms are crossed over a tight black turtleneck that hugs her waist, with a glittering red fringe skirt that stops mid-thigh.
Sheer black tights and short heeled boots adorn her legs and feet as she pops out a hip.
When my gaze finds her face again, she’s scowling at me.
“Allie, I could’ve been naked.”
She rolls her eyes, tossing me a deadpan expression. “I’ve seen it all before.”
“I’m sure your boyfriend would love hearing that,” I mutter, sliding past her and back into the bedroom.
“Oh, okay. So that’s what this is about, then?” She scoffs, turning to face me but staying in the doorway. “You’re jealous.”
“Of course I’m jealous!” I spin, seething. “It’s barely been a month since you were mine. You still feel like mine.” My voice breaks when my gaze meets hers. “You’ve always felt like mine.”
She blinks, sorrow flashing in her eyes, but they drift to the floor before I can anchor them.
“I’ll always be your best friend.”
I close the distance between us, stopping just in front of her.
I hesitate then reach out and take her face between my hands, and when she doesn’t push me away, I tilt her head up.
“You are so much more than that to me.” She shakes her head, eyes misting over.
“I know what we promised. I know we said it was better that way, but I can’t ever see you as only my friend.
You’re my everything. Don’t you get that? ”
“You’re my everything too,” she whispers. “But I can’t be the pathetic girl who spends her whole life pining after the football player who goes on to live his dreams.”
“They’re only dreams if you’re in them, Allie.” I brush my thumb over her cheek. “And you’re not pathetic. You have so much you’re working toward. I can’t wait to watch you go after everything you’ve dreamed of too.”
Her lips tilt up, but her eyes remain sad. “I just… I thought maybe if I moved on, it’d hurt less.”
“Does it?”
She laughs a sob, tears welling in her eyes. “No.”
I drop my forehead against hers, inhaling her sweet scent, savoring her warm skin, before pulling back. Peering down at her glistening eyes, I brush a strand of straight hair behind her ear. “He make you happy at least?”
Her gaze sears me with raw devastation. Her lips part, then close, then part again before she finally answers with a fractured murmur, “He’s not you.”
I force a grin. “Nobody will ever be me, baby.”
She huffs a laugh, rolling her eyes. I drop a hand from her face as she shakes her head. “Why didn’t you just talk to me about this? Instead of ignoring me all day.”
I chew my cheek, considering whether I should tell her the whole truth—I’m not going to TU, and I want to attend Golden State to be with her.
That I’m in love with her, and I want her to end things with her fucking boyfriend right this second, becoming mine for the first real time in our lives—or if I should let it go, let her be happy with someone else.
I’m a selfish prick.
I grasp her hand, walking over to the bottom bunk and sitting us both down.
She’s dressed beautifully, a living sparkle.
I’m still only in my towel, a chill biting my spine.
I grab the remote to the fireplace off the bedside table and turn it on, the flame matching the fire in my veins, erupting to life behind the glass mantle.
“Because, Allie…” I sigh, biting my lip as I search for the words.
“Because I’ve been planning on telling you this weekend that…
That I’m in love with you.” Our hands are still entwined as she pulls them into her lap, brushing her thumb over the back of mine as she leans into me, like she’s willing me to continue.
“I’m not going to TU, and I’ve decided to commit to Golden State in February. I want—”
“Wait, wait, wait…” She shakes her head, ripping her hands from me. “You’re not going to TU? Why the hell not?”
“They never called,” I say. “They told me they’d call before the end of the year, and they didn’t. So…I’m choosing Golden State. I’m choosing you.”
“You got accepted to other football programs, though, right?”
“I don’t care.” I grab her hands again. “I’m taking this as a sign, Allie. You are where I’m meant to be.”