16. Archer
ARCHER
Age Seventeen
Laid out in Willow’s bed, I toss a football toward the ceiling, entertaining myself while the girls do their hair and makeup. I’m not dressed yet, but all I’ve got to do is throw on my tuxedo, which is hanging on the back of Willow’s door.
Zander isn’t here yet. He wanted to sleep in today before the prom, but I was eager to spend time with Allie, so I drove over to my aunt and uncle’s house the minute I woke up this morning.
Allie decided to attend prom in Pacific Shores with my brother, Willow, and me. I offered to take her to prom at her school, but she wanted to be with Willow, and both dances fell on the same weekend.
Zander’s date, Matteo, should arrive with him just before we leave. Our parents rented us a limo to take together—I thought it was a little cliché, but everyone else was excited about it—and I’m just here for the ride, really.
Allie drove down yesterday after school, but I had a personal training session and I knew she and Willow would want some time alone together, anyway. Willow committed to Berkeley a few weeks ago, and I know Allie was holding out hope she’d stay closer to home.
“Archer, shouldn’t you leave?” Allie asks from the corner, where she’s sitting on the floor in front of a full-body mirror, spreading something sparkly over her eyelid.
“Rude.” I snort.
She glares at me through her reflection with one open eye. “You’re not supposed to see me beforehand. I’m supposed to descend the staircase while some early-2000s love ballad plays inside your head and you choke on your tongue as you try to think of a way to describe how beautiful you find me.”
A laugh tugs at my chest. “Allie Mae, every time I look at you, the song “Only One” by Yellowcard plays on a loop inside my mind, and I’ve been searching for words to describe how beautiful I find you since I learned to speak.
” She whips around, gaze meeting mine head-on.
Willow bursts into a giggle. I only grin.
“You’re right. I haven’t found them yet, but if you were forcing me, I’d say that your beauty is akin to that of a Pacific sunset—ethereal and radiant, permanent yet fleeting, something you could watch every day of your life, and yet still long for each night when it leaves. ”
Allie stares, slack-jawed, shock glittering in her espresso eyes.
“So, whether I’m looking at you now with one sparkly eye and one bare, or early mornings when you still have bed head, or late at night with pimple patches on your forehead…
or, later this evening at the base of the stairs while you’re in your gown, I’m still going to look at you like you created the sun. ”
“Where the hell did that come from?” Willow asks, and when my eyes flash to hers, they’re bulging as she studies me like I’m some kind of exotic animal.
“Years of practice with her verbal sparring.” I tilt my head toward Allie before I look at Willow again and wink.
I live to leave her speechless, and my dramatic outbursts are just rare enough that they work every time, but truthfully, I didn’t tell a damn lie.
I’ve spent a lot of time listening to music with the intention of finding something that speaks to the way I feel about her—and my dad raised me on his favorite pop-punk and surf rock bands.
I’ve always associated the sunset with her.
The brightest, most anticipated part of the day—just as she is in my life—but always fleeting, always momentary, necessary to savor. Just like her.
I also find her beautiful all the time, no matter what she’s wearing.
“I don’t know that song,” she murmurs. “‘Only One.’”
I chuckle, lifting off the bed. “Listen to it.” I step up to her, bending down to plant a kiss against her lips. “I’ll go downstairs so you can surprise me with your dress.”
I grab my tux off the door as I step into the hallway, but stop short when I turn the corner and find my mother heading in my direction.
“Hi, handsome.” She smiles as she reaches me, cupping both sides of my face and rising on her toes to kiss my forehead. “What are you doing?”
“Was gonna give the girls some time to get ready and go hang out downstairs.”
“Okay, well, hold up a second. I wanted to talk to Allie about something, and it might be good for you to join too. Afterward, we can go eat together. I made brunch!”
“Okay, Mama.” I laugh, turning around to follow her back into Willow’s bedroom.
She knocks on the door. “Allie, you got a moment?”
Allie turns from her place on the floor, peering up at my mom as she nods. She’s got some brown shit swiped down the sides of her cheeks and along her jawline now, and light powder piled beneath her eyes. I’m so fucking confused.
“What’s happening there?” I ask, pointing at Allie. She shoots me a glare.
“Contour. Sit down,” Mom says matter-of-factly.
I fall into the lounge chair beside Willow’s door as my mom takes a place on the bed.
“So, I already talked to your brother and your dad about this,” she says, directed at me.
“But I was invited to take part in a culinary exchange program in Genoa, Italy, this summer. It’s a cohort of pastry chefs from all over the world who teach rotating master classes representing their region. ”
“Oh, Mom.” I scramble from my chair, darting across the room to hug her. “That’s so cool. Congratulations.”
Everyone in Pacific Shores—all over California, really—knows how talented my mother is.
She had no formal culinary education when she decided to open a bakery on the boardwalk after meeting my dad.
She just had a passion for it, and some kind of magic touch and astounding natural talent.
Yet, over the years, she’s never stopped learning.
She’s never grown comfortable in her craft to believe she’s beyond improving, and I think spending my whole life watching that mindset at work has helped me become the athlete I am now.
A future quarterback at the best university football program in the country.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, but her voice is craggily.
When I pull away, mist glistens in her blue eyes—a matching shade to mine. “What’s wrong?”
“Well…” She clears her throat. “I’ll have to leave in June, and I won’t be home until late August. So…I’d have to miss moving you into college. If you don’t want me to go, I won’t—”
“You have to go, Aunt Dahlia!” Willow exclaims, spinning in the stool at her vanity and facing us. “That is the coolest thing ever. Three whole months in Italy? Can we come visit?”
My mother laughs softly. “Of course you can.”
“Willow’s right.” I smile. “You have to go. That’s way too cool to pass up. Dad can move me in just fine.”
Her lips tilt faintly, and she raises a hand to pat my cheek. “I love you so much. I’ll be coming home just in time for your first game of the season. I’ll fly right to Texas so I can be with you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I probably won’t even play this year.”
“Don’t care.” She shakes her head rapidly.
“I’ve watched every single football game you’ve ever had and I’m not stopping now.
” She kisses my cheek before turning toward Allie, who watches us from the floor.
“Now, Allie…” A giddy pitch rises in Mom’s voice.
“There is also an apprenticeship open. You’d assist with the classes I teach as well as take your own.
You’ll even earn credits toward your degree since the program is coordinated with the International Culinary Institute.
” A grin spreads over her cheeks. “Any chance you’d like to join me? ”
Allie’s jaw drops, eyes bulging. She blinks rapidly, jaw quivering as she shakes her head in disbelief. Without uttering a word, she stands up and sprints across the room, throwing her arms around my mom. “Oh my God,” she murmurs into Mom’s shoulder. “Oh my God!”
She’s squealing, body vibrating with excitement as she steps back. Unshed tears glimmer in her eyes when they meet mine—every part of her radiating with pure joy.
I know the realization hasn’t settled over her yet, and I don’t want to take away from the moment, so I grin back.
I am genuinely happy for her. It’s going to be an incredible opportunity for them both, and I know traveling to Europe is a dream of Allie’s. I also know her favorite food in the world is a pistachio croissant, and she’ll be elated to perfect the recipe in Italy.
But an entire summer away will hinder the carefully crafted plans we’ve made over the past three months.
I signed with Texas University in February and Allie committed to Golden State’s culinary program in March.
We decided we’d stay together, at least through the summer, and see if we can make it work.
I move to Texas in August, and Allie starts school in September.
Our plan was to have her come to Texas and help me move in, then we’d be apart for three months until Thanksgiving, when she’d fly out.
I’ll come home for three weeks for the holidays in December, and she’ll come to Texas for spring break. Then, we’d have summer together.
We’ve grown up this way, and were no stranger to the distance, but we agreed that we could survive it together in adulthood. We could mature, stay together even if physically apart.
I don’t know how Allie’s summer plans changing is going to impact that, but when I watch the glee in her eyes morph to affliction as she looks at me, I know the realization is dawning.
“Oh. But…”
I shake my head. “You have to, Allie.” I smile wider, giving her the same false confidence she gave me months ago when she urged me to sign with TU. “It’s going to be incredible.”
My mom sighs heavily, lifting out of her chair.
She makes her rounds, planting a kiss to mine, Allie’s, and then Willow’s forehead before reaching the door.
“We don’t need to figure it out now, but we do need to give them an answer by Wednesday.
Enjoy prom tonight, and we’ll figure the rest out tomorrow. ”
Allie nods before turning to me, offering a soft, watery smile.