“And what’s that?”
“Well, me and the guys have all been talking about it,” Ty began slowly, “and we were thinking—you know, since your old man is in prison and everything—that you’re probably going to wind up there one day too, so it’d probably be best if you left Hadley alone. You know, like can’t come within two hundred feet alone. Pretty little thing like her couldn’t possibly—”
My face felt like it had burst into flames. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but this had clearly gone way too far. “Would you just leave him alone? Seriously! Could you be more of a jerk, Ty?”
Ty stared at me with wide eyes for a few short moments while I sat there, short of breath, flushed with color. I couldn’t look at Archer. I was afraid of what his reaction would be. The last thing I needed was for a dumb idiot like Ty Ritter to throw Archer off, disrupt the progress I’d made over the past week, however minimal that progress might have been.
“Well, I really think that answers your question,” Archer said, surprising both Ty and me. “Bye now.”
Ty shoved back from the table and stood, slamming his hands down, leaning toward Archer. “Just think about it. Might do you some good.”
I took a deep, steadying breath and looked up at Archer, bracing myself for his reaction. He was looking at me with nothing short of contempt.
“Look, Archer, I—”
“Don’t ever speak for me again.” His eyes were blazing as he glared at me. “You may think you just did me a favor, but you did the exact opposite. I can take care of myself. So I’ll thank you for keeping your nose out of my business. The same goes for your idiot friend Ty Ritter.”
He didn’t give me the chance to say anything in response before he left the cafeteria. People standing nearby automatically moved to give him a wide berth and he quickly disappeared from sight.
Maybe I had jumped the gun, shouting at Ritter like that, but how could I have not when he’d said such terrible things? Yet now I was fairly certain Archer was never going to want anything to do with me ever again. And could I really blame him? Hanging out with Archer was already opening him up to more scrutiny at the hands of jerks like Ty. That wasn’t helping my case any. It was his perfect excuse to stay as far away from me as possible, and I could kiss being friends good-bye.
During the rest of the day, I kept running what Ty had said during lunch over and over again in my mind. The more I thought about that conversation, the sicker I started to feel. Ritter said that Archer was going to end up in prison “like his old man.” How could I have missed something as important as the fact that Archer’s dad was in jail?
That statement alone raised more questions about this entire situation than I thought I had the capacity to handle. I wanted to believe Ty was just making it up, but there was no mistaking the look that had come over Archer’s face when he’d said those words. Ty had touched a nerve with Archer, and he knew it.
But at the very least, I now knew which one of Archer’s secrets I had to uncover next.
CHAPTER 9
Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures—21 Days Until
I had begun to develop a morning routine since I’d signed the contract with Death. I would ride the bus with Taylor in the morning, we’d part ways at our lockers, and I would spend the first half of the day chatting with Brie in the hallways between classes. I’d do my best to pay attention in classes like American Government and Chemistry, where my lab partner, Chelsea, was much more fun to talk to than memorizing the periodic table of elements. Archer and I didn’t have any classes together, seeing as junior year was when classes were divided based on which students were going the Advanced Placement route—which Archer was clearly intelligent enough for and had decided to take advantage of.
When it was time for lunch, I would buy a sandwich or a salad and some fries from the food line and sit with Archer at the table in the back of the cafeteria. Lunch was the only opportunity we actually had to spend time together during the day. I’d decided that today I would bring up geometry tutoring again and more or less pester Archer into setting up a schedule for him to teach me shape formulas, which would also serve to get to know him better. I may have wormed my way into his life, but I had no idea if I’d made a dent in his decision to end that life.
When Archer wasn’t at our usual table toward the back of the cafeteria on Tuesday, I was caught off guard. I did a quick scan of the place, leaning up on my tiptoes, looking for any sign of Archer, and it quickly became apparent that he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Our junior class had less than two hundred students. If Archer was at lunch, I I would’ve seen him already.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I was afraid. It was unrealistic to expect that I could keep tabs on Archer all of the time, but my stress level noticeably shot through the roof when I didn’t know where he was. Almost a week had gone by since I’d been sent back in time, but I’d already grown accustomed to being around Archer. I savored each moment I was with him, and I’d begun to notice this hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach that would immediately take hold when we parted ways.
My first thought was to go to the library to look for him, maybe take up post at his locker, but I had the sense that would only annoy him. And then I remembered what had occurred during lunch yesterday with stupid Ty Ritter. I held in a groan, squeezing my sandwich between my fingers. After that, it made sense Archer would avoid the cafeteria. And me.
“Archer’s fine,” I muttered to myself as I changed direction and made for the table Taylor, Brie, and Chelsea normally sat at during lunch with other girls in our class. “Of course he’s fine.”
“Uh-oh,” Taylor said when I flopped down into the seat across the table from her. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Nope, just wanted to spend some time with you,” I said confidently, trying to convince myself just as much as Taylor. “Archer is busy anyway. He’s in all AP classes, so he always has a lot of homework.”
The words didn’t ring true, even though I’m sure Archer did have a lot of homework. The girls didn’t seem convinced by it either.
“You have to tell me something, girlfriend, because I just don’t get it,” Chelsea cut in, leaning toward me. “What do you see in that boy? He’s kind of intense.”
I swallowed hard as I unwrapped my squished sandwich with trembling hands. I see a lot, I wanted to say. More than anyone else did in this place, at least. “He’s been tutoring me in geometry,” I half lied, and my insides immediately twisted with guilt.
I didn’t like to bend the truth, and I definitely didn’t like doing so to my friends, but what else could I do being put on the spot like that?
“Uh huh,” Taylor said, clearly unconvinced. “Sure.”
“Seriously!” I shoved my hand into my bag and rummaged around until I came up with my geometry test from the other day, and then I shoved it across the table toward them. “Look!”
Brie let out a whistle as she looked over my test. “Not bad, but let’s see you do this without a calculator.”
“That’s impossible,” I said, snatching my test back. “Mrs. Lowell’s class is hard enough as it is.”
“Geometry isn’t that bad,” Brie disagreed. “I had Mrs. Lowell freshman year, and her class was a breeze.”
“Careful,” Chelsea said to Brie. “Jensen Edwards is sitting at the table next to us. He might overhear that you’re actually a mathematical genius.”
I began to relax as conversation moved away from Archer, though I still wasn’t able to completely stop worrying about him. Talking with the girls, chatting away like we normally did every day, was a nice distraction, but it wasn’t perfect. I could momentarily forget what was bothering me, but the second I was left alone with my thoughts, it would all come rushing back. Relaxing with my friends was something only the precontract Hadley could afford to do.
After the final bell, I spent a few moments standing around by Archer’s locker, peering through the crowd to try to catch any sight of him.
Nothing. When the hallway had almost completely cleared of students, I knew it was pointless to stay there any longer. I gave up with a frustrated sigh and stomped my way down the stairs.
I had to take the train home because I’d missed the bus while waiting around for Archer. I pulled out my cell phone as I walked into the apartment an hour later and texted Chelsea, Taylor, and Brie. If I stayed shut up in my apartment, trying to do my homework, I’d be consumed by my own thoughts and drive myself crazy.
NETFLIX NIGHT AT MY PLACE? CHINESE
TAKEOUT ON ME.
I received enthusiastic responses in just a few minutes, and I was happy to dump my bag on a chair in the dining room and totally forget about my homework, and the hurdles I’d only just begun to face. One night off couldn’t hurt, could it? I needed to feel normal again, at least for a little while.
But the next day, Archer was absent again. When I didn’t see him at his locker, I had difficulty breathing for a few tense moments. I leaned up against the wall and forced myself to take deep, calming breaths as I tugged on the strands of ghost beads I’d religiously kept on my wrist for the past week. The beads now hid the number 20. I only had twenty days left. Only twenty days, and I still felt like I was wandering around in a daze, unsure of what I was doing, constantly worrying that I wouldn’t be able to save Archer. I needed to take action. I needed a plan.
Just because Archer hadn’t been at school didn’t mean anything. Maybe he was sick. Everybody missed a day now and then. It wasn’t cause for a panic attack. Yet my automatic response was to assume that the worst had happened and that Archer . . .
Stop it, Hadley! I snapped at myself. You’re being ridiculous!
Ridiculous or not, though, I wasn’t going to waste any more time. After the final bell, I walked outside, quickly pulling my cell phone out of my pocket to look up the address to Mama Rosa’s Coffeehouse. If Archer wasn’t at school, then it stood to reason that the next best place to check was his family’s coffeehouse.
A light dusting of snow swept through the streets as I jogged my way up from the subway and walked the two blocks over to the coffeehouse. When I was finally standing in front of the red door of Mama Rosa’s, I had done my best to convince myself that it didn’t matter what Archer would think about my showing up announced—I had to do it anyway.
I gripped the doorknob and wrenched the door open, stepping inside before I lost courage and turned to go home.
There was a fire burning in the grate, just like last time, and a few people were lounging about at tables with coffee and magazines. There was a hidden radio somewhere set to a classic station, music filtering quietly throughout the place, but for the most part, it was empty.
I approached the front counter, wondering if Archer was crouched down behind the pastry case or somewhere in the back, only to come face-to-face with Regina as she walked out of the kitchen.
“Oh!” A smile crossed her face. “Hadley!”
I was pleasantly surprised to find that she remembered who I was and that she seemed genuinely glad to see me. “Hi,” I said, returning her smile. “Nice to see you again.”
I really did mean it. If Regina was smiling and all perky, that had to mean nothing terrible had happened to Archer. We made a few minutes of small talk, discussing the sour weather and Thanksgiving, which was just next week.
“Are you looking for Archer?” Regina asked as she wiped up a spill on the counter.
“Um, yes.” I tried not to flush in embarrassment.
“Well, I’m sorry to say that he’s not in,” Regina said, looking apologetic. “He’s out running errands with my mother right now.”
Sweet relief coursed through me. Archer was okay. Thank God there was that.
“Oh.” I still couldn’t keep back the defeated sigh that seemed to be becoming the norm for me. That walk in the snow had been for nothing, then, but at least I knew Archer was all right. “Well. Okay. Thanks anyway. I should probably—”
“Wait a moment, Hadley!”
I turned back to Regina, halfway to the door already. “Yeah?”
“You could always stay for a cup of coffee, you know,” she said. “I’m sure Archer will be back soon, and besides, it looks like the snow is picking up outside.”
I looked out the window, and sure enough, snow was now falling with a considerable amount of force. A hot cup of coffee sounded much better than stepping into the flurry. “You know what? That would be lovely, thank you.”
Regina’s answering smile lit up her eyes. “Great! Have a seat. I’ll whip up a special blend.”
I took a seat at a square table by the counter, and Regina joined me a few moments later with two steaming mugs of coffee. I said my thanks and brought the mug up close to my face, inhaling the rich scent of what I thought was cinnamon.
“This is delicious!” I exclaimed when I took a sip. “It tastes like a snickerdoodle!”
Regina laughed, sipping at her own mug of coffee. “Thank you. Our coffee is the only reason this place stays in business. Well, that and we own and live in the apartment upstairs.”
Regina then told me how she and her two sisters and brother had grown up in the building, and how the Incitti family had been in the coffee business ever since her great-grandmother, Rosalia Incitti, had emigrated from Sicily to the United States in 1895. Now she and Archer, her daughter, Rosie, and her mother, Victoria, still lived in the apartment above the coffeehouse.
“Well, it’s a lovely place,” I said, sipping at my coffee as I glanced around. “It’s very . . . charming.”
“Thank you,” Regina said. Then she paused. “So . . . do you have a crush on my son?”
I spat out a mouthful of coffee and stared at Regina with a look of pure horror on my face. She did not just ask me that.
“Um, no,” I spluttered out. “I don’t have a crush on Archer. I don’t.”
Regina raised her eyebrows, clearly skeptical.
“Well, I mean, he’s a nice guy, and, um, certainly good looking, but . . .” I slunk down in my seat, hiding my face in my coffee mug. This was a lost cause. “No, I don’t.”
“Oh, I see,” Regina said as she began to grin. There was this knowing look in her eyes that made it seem as if she was totally aware of the conflicted thoughts currently racing through my mind. But I really wasn’t interested in Archer. Not like that, at least.
“Sorry for asking, but I was just wondering, of course. Archer’s not one to normally bring home friends, let alone a girl who’s a friend, so you can imagine my curiosity.”
“I have noticed he’s a little antisocial,” I murmured into my coffee mug.
Regina nodded. “Archer’s always been the quiet type.”
“Why is that?”
She stared at me in surprise for a moment, letting what I’d blurted out sink in. I regretted my abrupt question almost immediately, but then she let out a quick breath, clutching her coffee mug tightly.
“There are things in Archer’s life that he shouldn’t have had to deal with, as young as he is. Things nobody should have to deal with. He’s the man of the house, of course, and thinks it’s his duty to look after me and his grandmother and his little sister more than himself. The Lord knows it hasn’t been easy on him. I’ve always said he seems more middle-aged than seventeen.”
So there actually was some truth to Ty’s words. Archer’s father wasn’t in the picture, not if Regina had called Archer the man of the house. The question that still remained was, where was Archer’s father? Prison? Was he just a deadbeat who had skipped out years ago?
“Oh,” I said stupidly. “I’m . . . so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked, I—”
“No, it’s fine,” Regina said. “I’m glad you did. You should know Archer isn’t as rough around the edges as he seems. He’s actually a real sweetheart.”
Archer’s sweetness had to exist very far beneath his rough exterior, if at all, but I doubted anyone knew him better than his own mother.
“At any rate, I�
�m glad you’re spending time with him,” Regina told me. “You’re always welcome here.”
“Thank you,” I said.
It was surprising to realize just how much I meant that. The Morales family were almost total strangers to me, but I knew Regina was telling me the truth.
I ended up staying, talking with Regina much longer than I expected. The clock above the mantel had just chimed the hour—five o’clock—when Regina looked to me with a curious expression that had me a little worried about what she was going to say.
“The after-work rush is about to start, and since Archer and my ma aren’t back yet, would you mind giving me a hand?”
I felt my jaw drop. “B-But I’ve never even had a job before, and I’ve never—”
“Honestly, there’s not much to ringing up orders and delivering soup and sandwiches to tables,” Regina assured me. “Really, you’d be helping me out a lot.”
“Um . . . okay?” I said, noticing the tremble in my voice. “Sure.”
“Great!” Regina stood and gestured for me to follow her back to the kitchen. “Let’s get you an apron.”
I let Regina pull me behind the front counter and into the kitchen, wondering what on earth I had just agreed to do. Five minutes later I was armed with a clean black apron, standing behind the register, watching the front door, just waiting for a whole slew of people to come rushing inside to throw orders at me left and right.
“Don’t look so nervous, Hadley,” Regina told me with a smile as she placed wrapped cold cut sandwiches on the bottom shelf in the pastry case. “I promise; our regulars are as kind as can be.”
Before long, the bells tied to the front door gave a jingle and a couple with six screaming children came strolling inside. I told myself I could do this. That Regina was right and there really was nothing to ringing up orders. I forced on the brightest smile I could manage.
And by the time closing at seven o’clock rolled around, I fully understood just how right Regina had been when she’d called it the rush. Mama Rosa’s got packed as soon as five thirty rolled around.
In 27 Days Page 7