by Amber Garza
It’s the first time someone has encouraged me in this. My family acts like I’m crazy when I mention it. Not that I blame them. I can’t even pee in a public restroom without having a panic attack
“What about you? Plannin’ on becoming a big rap star?”
He pumps his fist. “Oh, yeah.”
I giggle.
When he slides his chair closer, our thighs barely brush. I shudder. His face is so close I feel his breath on my cheek. “If I do, will you come to my shows?”
“Of course.”
Laughing, he scoots his chair back. It scrapes on the ground, and I flinch. “Well, you’d probably be the only one. Nah, I’ll stick with what I’m good at.”
“Something in the film industry?”
“Definitely.” A grin splits his face in two.
“Is your brother going to help you?” When his smile falls flat, I wish I could shove the words back inside.
“No. This is something I want to do on my own.” The finality in his tone is undeniable.
I clamp my mouth shut and continue with the lab. After we get through a few more measurements, I roll my kinked neck.
“What’s the verdict for the concert?” he asks.
I talked to my parents right after he asked. When I first went out to the family room, it appeared that only Mom was awake. I was glad because Mom is easier to persuade than Dad.
But right after I finished asking Mom, Dad came up behind me.
“What’s this about a concert out of town…with a boy,” he boomed, causing me to practically jump out of my skin.
“Dad, you scared the crap outta me.” Clutching my chest, I felt my heart thump underneath my palm like a manic drumbeat.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he continued. “How well do you even know this boy?”
“He’s a really good guy, Dad. Trust me.”
“I do trust you. It’s the boy I’m unsure about.”
I threw Mom a desperate look. Giving me a subtle nod, she pushed her paperback book off her lap and sat up. “Honey, why don’t you invite Archer over for some grub? We can throw down and get to know him.”
I shook my head. “What? Throw down? You want to fight with him?”
“No.” Her brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought it meant to eat.”
“I think your mother’s right. Isn’t it the name of a show on Food Network?” Dad interjected.
Seriously, where is Sophie when I need her? “Fine. I’ll invite Archer over. But can you please just talk in your own language?”
“This is my own language,” Mom answered.
“Um…yeah, I did talk with them,” I say now.
“Oh, good.” His cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “I wasn’t sure because you hadn’t said anything yet.”
Since the beginning of class, I’d been working up the courage. I clear my throat. “They…um…didn’t say no, exactly.”
“Uh oh.”
Uh oh is right. Why do my parents have to be so strict and overprotective?
“They…um…sorta want to have you over for dinner first.” Holding my breath, I await his response.
“Okay.” He doesn’t seem freaked or anything.
“Really? You’d do that?” I assumed he wouldn’t want to go to all this trouble for a band he doesn’t even like.
“Of course.”
Huh. “Okay. Cool. Is Friday night good?”
“I’ll be there with bells on.” He winks.
“Well.” I laugh. “Maybe don’t wear bells.”
He chuckles. “Deal.”
“All right, class. Just a few more minutes to finish up your measurements.”
“Yikes. We better get moving.” Archer reaches for the notebook and pencil. When he does, his pinky finger brushes against mine. I suck in a sharp breath. Our eyes meet. He doesn’t pull his hand away and our fingers remain touching.
“Archer.” Tiffany appears in front of us, and we quickly slide our hands off the table. When she leans over, cleavage spills out of her top. Glancing down my own shirt, I realize that even if I tried to have cleavage, it would never look like that. “Can you help us out? Eddie and I are so lost.”
“We are, too,” he responds, and I’m stunned at his ability to not stare down her shirt. Not that she seems to appreciate it. If anything, she finds it annoying.
“Remember when we were in science together sophomore year? That was so fun, huh?”
“I don’t remember ever having fun in science before.” He glances at me, his lips lifting slightly at the corners. “Until now.”
Warmth spreads through me from the tip of my toes to the top of my head.
Tiffany frowns. Not to be deterred, she tries another tactic. “I’m thinking of having a party on Friday night.” She looks over at me momentarily. “Of course, not everyone will be invited, but you will be, Archer.”
“Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I have plans.”
She glares. “Fine.” She leans toward my ear and whispers, “Don’t get too cozy.”
They’re desperate, spiteful words with no meaning, but they still sting. Maybe because I know she’s right. I know this won’t last. Good things never do.
…
So far, it’s going well. Dad hasn’t been as harsh as I thought he’d be, Mom has kept her teen phrases to a minimum, and Sophie hasn’t asked one question about Ross yet. Then again, it’s only been twenty minutes.
“Make yourself comfy,” Mom calls from the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready in about ten.”
I’m so relieved she didn’t promise it would be “hashtag delish” that a smile breaks out on my face.
“What are you smiling about?” Archer asks.
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “Want something to drink?”
“I’m good.”
“Okay.” I lead him into the family room. Mom and Dad are in the kitchen. Sophie got a phone call a few minutes ago and excused herself. Maybe she’s dating a new guy. I make a mental note to ask her about it later. I sink onto the couch and Archer sits next to me.
“I gotta say, I’m a little disappointed,” he says.
Hugging myself, I wonder what he’s talking about. Our houses aren’t that different. His is a little larger, but not much. It’s decorated differently, but I wouldn’t say one is better than the other.
“I’ve yet to meet this teenage mom you promised me,” he clarifies.
“Ah.” I smile. “Trust me, you will. Or if I’m lucky, you won’t.”
“Well, maybe she’ll say yes to the concert.”
“She probably would. Too bad it’s up to my dad, and he’s super overprotective.”
Leaning forward, his face grows serious. “I can’t tell if he likes me.”
Peering over my shoulder I check to see if anyone’s coming. Mom is pulling down a wine bottle and Dad is talking, so I figure we’ve got a few minutes. “Dad’s favorite words are ‘responsibility’ and ‘work ethic.’ Throw them around and you’re golden.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep.”
Sitting up straight, he rests his back against the couch cushions. Relief blankets his face. “Looks like we’re going to the concert.”
“Don’t get too cocky. Dad doesn’t like that,” I warn.
Something warm leaps into my lap. “Hey, Nancy Drew,” I say, lowering my hand onto her back.
“This is the famous Nancy Drew?”
I nod as she moves from my lap to Archer’s and nuzzles up to him. “She likes you.”
Reaching out, he tenderly pets her fur. Mesmerized by his fingers stroking her back, I find myself longing to be her. Longing to have his hands on my skin. When my gaze travels up his arm, I notice the way his muscles flex with each movement. My toes curl. Looking away, I clear my throat. “I finally watched the Playlisters’ first video. Mac’s right. You’re incredible.”
He shakes his head. “Nah.”
“No. Really. The video was amazing. And I’m not talking abo
ut the music part. You totally have an eye for that kind of thing.”
“Thanks.” His eyes dance.
“All right. Dinner’s ready,” Mom calls from the kitchen.
“Here we go.” I nudge Archer in the side.
By the time we reach the dining room, Mom and Dad are already seated at opposite ends of the table. Sophie’s seat is empty. What is she doing, anyway? I thought for sure she’d be interested in talking to Archer. Not that I’m complaining, just curious. Next to my usual seat, Mom has set a place for Archer. After directing him, we both sit down.
“Everything looks great,” Dad says, beaming at Mom.
“Hashtag delish,” she answers with a smile.
And…here we go.
“I’m sorry.” Breathless, Sophie rushes in. When she plops down in the seat across from me, I gasp. Her hair and makeup are immaculate, and she’s wearing a slinky black dress. What the hell?
“Are you going out tonight?” I ask her.
“No.” She pats her perfectly curled hair. “Why?”
Uh, ’cause you look like you’re ready to perform in a show on the Vegas strip. “No reason.”
“I think your makeup is on fleek, Soph,” Mom says.
“I don’t know what on fleek is, but if it means pretty, then I agree,” Dad jumps in.
Kill me now.
Staring down at my plate, I’m too afraid to peek at Archer. I’m certain he’s mortified. My family should start their own circus show and take it on the road. Sophie’s already dressed for it.
“What did I miss? I want to hear all about Kass’s friend, Ross.” She stops, appearing stricken. “I mean, Archer.” She throws me an apologetic look. “Archer,” she repeats for emphasis.
Frustration burns through me. I resist the urge to hide under the table.
“You didn’t miss anything. Ask me whatever you want,” Archer answers politely.
I blow out the breath I’d been holding. Mom begins dishing out lasagna and salad onto all the plates.
“I’d like to know more about this plan to go into the city,” Dad says, getting right down to business.
Usually I’d want him to ease into this part, but tonight I’m praying to get through this dinner as swiftly as possible.
“Well, first off, Mr. Milton, I want you to know that I’ve had my license for two years. I have a perfect driving record. The car I drive is a Honda Odyssey. It’s just been serviced, so it’s completely safe.”
“An Odyssey?” My dad furrows his brows. “Isn’t that a minivan?”
My stomach plummets.
Archer’s face pales. He had said that like it was a selling point. My dad might not agree with that assessment. “Yeah…well…it’s not what I chose. It was my mom’s, so I sorta got stuck with it. Not that I feel stuck with it. I love it. It’s good for so many things.”
Oh, no. It’s getting worse.
His cheeks redden. “I mean, not bad kinds of things. Mostly, I just mean…” He pauses, taking a deep breath, while I wish for a rewind button on this conversation. “It’s safe. Vans are safe. When it comes to accidents, I mean.”
Sophie stifles a laugh, and I want to kick her. Too bad our dining table is so wide I can’t reach her.
Dad clears his throat. “Okay, well, that’s all good to know. Is there anything else you’d like to share?”
Please say no.
Archer takes a deep breath. “I’ll drive Kassidy to the concert and bring her right back home, and I’ll make sure she’s safe and protected while we’re in the city.” He glances at me with a smile. “I know how much she’s been wanting to see this concert. That’s why it means a lot to me to be able to take her.”
Mom grins. Sophie throws me an impressed look. Even Dad seems happy with the answer.
“Well, son, it sounds like you have everything worked out.”
I freeze, my fork suspended over the plate. “Does that mean we can go?”
“Yes, honey, it means you can go.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Archer and I exchange an excited smile before digging into the lasagna.
“You two are going to have so much fun,” Mom says. “I hear the concert is going to be off the chain!”
Seriously?
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I want to hear all about Ross,” Sophie says.
“Archer,” I hiss.
“I know he’s Archer.” Sophie answers like I’m the one who’s stupid. “But I want to hear about Ross.”
“Sophie. That’s rude,” I speak through gritted teeth.
“It’s okay.” Archer’s hand briefly lands on my thigh, rendering me momentarily speechless. “What do you wanna know?”
Sophie gulps in some air. “Like, how did he get famous? Is he seeing anyone? Does he know Lea Brantley? Can you send him a picture of me? Maybe put in a good word? Are they ever looking for extra dancers or backup singers? ’Cause I can totally rock those tight little outfits.”
“Wow. Um…okay. What was the first question again?” he asks.
Sliding down in my seat, I groan.
…
After dinner, Archer and I head out to the front porch.
“I am so sorry about my sister,” I say the minute the door is securely closed behind me.
“Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time.”
“It must get super annoying.”
“Hey.” He comes toward me wearing a large grin. “I don’t care about that. We’re going to the concert.” Wrapping his arms my waist, he lifts me up, my feet leaving the porch momentarily.
It’s the first time he’s touched me like this, and I’m acutely aware of his hands on my body, of our chests pressed together. Swallowing thickly, he stares intensely into my eyes, and I shudder under the scrutiny of his gaze. I lick my lips, imagining pressing them to his. It’s what I want to do, but I don’t. This is all new to me.
“It is exciting for me. I just can’t figure out why you’re excited.”
“A night on the town with you? Sounds like I’m getting a pretty good deal.” Releasing his hold on me, he grins.
“Oh yeah?” I raise my brows. Archer brings out a flirty side of me I never even knew existed.
“And I’ve been listening to the Rocketlaunchers this week. They’re okay.”
I laugh. “Not exactly high praise.”
He shrugs. “It’s not my kind of music.” Coming closer, his gaze latches on to mine. “But that’s all right because I’m not really going for the band.” When his hands fasten around my waist, his touch sends a shockwave through my body.
My mouth dries out. “You’re not?”
His lips curl upward at the corners, his gaze still pinned to mine. “Nope.”
A million questions fly through my mind. Why did he go to so much trouble to ensure he could take me to this concert? Why me, when he can have Ella or Tiffany, or probably a million other girls? Is he only choosing me because I’m not interested in his brother?
“Like I said, I’m going to be with you,” he says.
And just like that all the question die on my lips. I’m not going to ruin the moment. Not now. Not when things are going so well.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Archer
@archerdev1 Watch out SF. Here I come. #nightonthetown #nightinthecity #rocketlaunchersconcert
Mac: So, what’s the verdict?
Me: We’re going.
Mac: Her dad trusts you to be alone with his daughter in that crappy van of yours?
Me: That crappy van was a major selling point.
Mac: Please tell me you’re joking.
Me: I’m not.
Mac: You used your van as a selling point? That’s risky.
Me: Why? It’s a very safe vehicle.
Mac: Crazy.
Me: What can I say? I’m charming.
Mac: Whatever.
…
Archer Devlin
Tickets for the concert: check. Date: check. Now I just
need the weekend to get here quickly.
John Cruise A date, huh? Glad you and Mac finally came out of the closet. What concert are you crazy lovebirds going to?
Brody “Mac” MacMillan Somebody sounds jealous. Don’t worry, we’ll find a boyfriend for you, too.
Archer Devlin You two can have each other. I’ll stick with my female date, thank you very much.
Brody “Mac” MacMillan What? You’re cheating on me, man?
Archer Devlin Ahh, don’t be too sad. John will comfort you.
John Cruise No, I won’t.
Kassidy Milton I can’t wait!
Archer Devlin Me neither!
Chapter Twenty-Four
#12—Go on a first date
Archer and I are matching.
As in, we’re wearing the same exact outfit—black and white Rocketlaunchers T-shirt, jeans, and black Converse sneakers. Twinning, my mom called it. This was the one time she got the phrase right. Archer wasn’t mortified like I was.
He’s still laughing about it as we drive toward the city. “Great minds, I guess….” His words trail off, his gaze flickering between our two T-shirts.
“It’s not that weird,” I point out. “We are going to a Rocketlaunchers concert.”
“I just didn’t know you had this shirt. I’ve only seen you in the other one.”
“I bought this last week,” I explain.
“I borrowed this one from Ross.” He throws me a wink. “That’s why it’s so tight. He doesn’t fill it out like I do.”
Giggling, I add, “That must be why the collar is so stretched, too, huh?”
“Yeah, because of his big head.” He laughs. “Good one.”
Smiling, I glance out the window. It’s afternoon, and the sun is bright in the blue sky. Trees sway lazily in the wind, rocking back and forth like a mom as she holds her newborn. I notice Archer stays steady at the speed limit like he promised my parents.
“He was actually cooler than I thought he’d be.”
“Ross?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’ve never met a celebrity before.”
“You still haven’t,” Archer teases. “You just met my brother.”
I nod. “Well, whoever he is, I’m really glad he got us these tickets. The concert is going to be awesome.” I settle back against the seat. “Their last album is my fave.”