Archer

by Haley Jenner

  It’s true. Darci Walker is painfully shy. Whenever boys move into our vicinity, her cheeks shade an adorable color and her eyes remain glued to the ground, her hands constantly adjusting her glasses in, what I’ve come to realize, is a nervous twitch.

  Dropping her voice to a whisper she looks between Aubrey and me. “I’ve never even kissed a boy,” she adds, pushing her thick rimmed glasses up her nose, her cheeks beginning to shade at the thought. Case and point. No boys present, but their mere mention has the same affect. Like I said, painfully shy. But in all honestly, I think it adds to her character. It’s sweet.

  Resting my head on her shoulder, I attempt to comfort her. “It’s okay, Darc, I’ve only ever kissed one boy, and it was alright, I guess. He kind of just thrust his tongue in my mouth.” A disgusted grimace clouds my face. “Now I think back, it was actually kind of gross.”

  Darci’s amber eyes are wide and shocked as her brain processes my words.

  “I think it’s because we’re kissing the wrong boys, I think they need to be older, that way they’ll know what they’re doing.” A sly smile crosses Aubrey’s face as her eyes wander past mine. Darci and I follow Aubrey’s gaze and my brows furrow as I meet the cold stare of Archer Dean.

  I flinch away from his glare and turn back to my friends. “Aubs, I would not kiss any of those boys if my life depended on it. Please do not tell me you are crushing on Archer or his dropkick friends.” I shake my head in disbelief.

  “Bennett’s quite handsome, don’t you think?” Darci’s voice reaches my ears, nervous and uncertain.

  Not so subtly, our eyes all turn to take in Bennett James and I would have to agree with Darci, Bennett is most definitely attractive. Classically handsome, chiseled jaw line, dark eyes, lined with even darker lashes. Bad boy charm radiates from his demeanor. From the first moment I noticed Bennett, his hairstyle has remained constant. Keeping the sides short he rocks the pompadour. Classic. Cheekbones highly defined, laugh lines permanent, even when his hallmark smile isn't etched onto his face. While Archer's smile is heartbreaking, wicked almost, when Bennett James smiles, you can't help but return it, it's wide and infectious.

  His height is comparable to Archer's; but his body is leaner, more agile. I can definitely see Darci's attraction and smiling softly I turn back to the girls nodding in agreeance to Darci’s question.

  “See, even Darci sees the merits in my idea,” Aubrey boasts, a smug smile settling on her face as she crosses her arms over her small chest. “Don’t tell me that with all the time you spend at the Dean’s house watching Jake you’ve never thought about touching tongues with Archer,” she raises her eyebrows in challenge and my own rise in shock.

  “Aubrey, you have officially lost it, that’s disgusting” I laugh out loud.

  “What’s disgusting?” Our heads turn automatically towards the voice and I’m met with the infuriating grin of Josh Edison.

  “That would be you Joshua, go away.”

  His tall frame drops to a crouch at the end of our table, his elbows resting along the edge. His breath smells of alcohol and cigarettes, a scent highly unappealing so early in the afternoon. I keep my eyes locked straight ahead, refusing to further acknowledge his presence, hoping that with no encouragement, he’ll leave us alone.

  “Come on, neighbor girl, I saw you watchin’ us over there. It’s rude to stare you know,” he smiles, leaning farther into my space causing the hackles on my neck rise.

  Shrugging his shoulders to dismiss my obvious disdain, his attention turns to Aubrey and I watch in horror as she twists a lock of hair around a finger, leaning into his space. “We were staring. Darci here thinks Bennett is hot,” she gestures towards Darci, who chokes on her milkshake, cheeks flaming instantaneously.

  Josh throws his head back and barks out a laugh loud enough to grab the attention of the rest of the diner before his calculating gaze rests on Darci.

  “Aubrey,” I snap, furious at her disregard of Darci’s feelings.

  “That right, Glasses?” Josh sneers. “Interested in trying it out with an older boy, hey? Didn’t peg you as the type,” he speaks around his smug grin.

  If possible, Darci’s cheeks redden further, the flush spreading down her neck. I watch as Josh relishes in Darci’s humiliation, his smirk beaming. “Don't shy away from me, Glasses. Tell me, ever been kissed?” his words are harsh, his tone mean and I see Darci start to shake at the unwanted attention.

  “What is your problem? Are you some kind of pervert?” I challenge. “You do realize we’re 14 and you’re 19. You make me sick. Go away!” I raise my voice as I stand over his crouch, towering over him gives me the confidence to keep my words strong.

  Josh pauses for only a moment before slowly rising, changing the dynamics easily by standing over me, violating my space. His eyes scan the diner, now aware of our audience and his stare turns glacial as it narrows in on me. “Whatever, neighbor girl, enjoy your milkshake,” he speaks softly as his hand reaches past me to knock my drink across the table.

  Aubrey and Darci jump up immediately, trying to avoid spilt milkshake, but I keep my eyes pinned to Josh as he holds my own, slowly backing away before turning to leave. My eyes follow his back before turning to Archer and I observe his obvious irritation at his best friend before he turns and follows Josh’s path out of the diner with Bennett and Toby in tow.

  Josh has his car idling out front already and I watch as Archer and his friends jump into the waiting car with a drunken Josh driving, the wheels spinning as they fly out of the car park.

  “What a dick,” Aubrey moves to my side.

  I turn my glare on her, disgusted at her behavior. “That was uncool, Aubrey. You owe Darci an apology,” I challenge.

  Aubrey has the decency to look sheepish as she turns towards Darci. “I didn’t mean to…. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was a bitch. I’m really sorry, babes.”

  My phone sounds, pulling my attention from Aubrey and Darci.

  Janie: Hey Baby Girl, can you watch Jake for me tonight? I’m leaving for work in halfa and Archer just called to say something important came up. I’m stuck, sorry baby X

  My hand shakes with anger as I text her back. Anger towards Archer and his unwillingness to help his family. His blatant lies and uncaring nature infuriates me. We aren’t friends, could barely pass as acquaintances, but I was officially done. Going forward, I would refuse to have any interaction with Archer Dean. I would continue to help Janie when he chose to be unaccommodating but that was a favor to Janie, not him. Archer Dean no longer existed for me.

  Annabelle: No worries. B there in 10 x

  Arriving at Janie’s she thanks me profusely, apologizing for the short notice. “It’s never a problem, Janie,” I wave her off.

  “You know the drill, eat what you want, make sure he goes down before 8 and of course, no boys” she finishes on a wink. I roll my eyes at her lame attempt at a joke and wave goodbye as she reaches her car. “Archer has promised me he won’t be too late tonight. Love you, honey”. I smile as the warmth of her words fill my heart.

  I watch her reverse out of her driveway, disappearing down the street before I turn and make my way through the house to find Jake. Their house is much like mine and Gran’s, simple, with two stories making up the structure. The bottom floor houses the kitchen, living and lounge area while the upstairs consists of 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. Both houses are non-descript, but boast a wraparound porch, which, in my opinion transfer them from plain to inviting. Janie's is decorated with a porch swing that sits to the side of her front door. It’s my favorite part of their home. I know Gran would buy one if I asked, but I like it here, at Janie’s. It makes me feel at home, at ease in their surroundings, like I’m part of their family when I just sit and spend my time there.

  We live in Carnation, a bedroom community of Washington. A township surrounded by mountains and a population of about 1,800. Our homes are modest. Small, but spacious, at least for our humble families.

&nb
sp; I find Jake in his room and take a second before announcing myself. I have a lot of time for Jake Dean, he might be only 10; but his maturity makes him great company. He’s sweet, thoughtful, always considering those he cares most about. He’s popular at school, but it’s deserved. He’s funny, athletic, creative, but most importantly, friendly.

  “Hey, Annabelle,” his voice reaches my ears, pulling me from my trance and I offer him a wide smile in greeting. “Thought I was hanging with Archer tonight?” he questions tightly, trying his hardest to hide his disappointment.

  “Something came up for him, you’ll have to make do with me tonight,” I smile apologetically. I watch as he struggles to keep his unaffected mask in place, but the defeat in his posture, that his older brother once again found something more appealing than spending time with him, is obvious. “You keen for ice-cream for dinner?” I invite playfully. This gets me an appreciative laugh as he nods and moves to follow me into the kitchen.

  Archer shakes me awake at some ungodly hour to let me know he’s home. No words are exchanged as I collect my things to leave. As always, he stands by the front door, holding it open, letting me know I’m no longer needed and urging me to leave. I refuse to meet his eyes as I edge past him, trying my hardest not to brush his large frame. Like always, his eyes burn into my back as I walk the short distance home, but this time I don’t look back. I don’t meet his frosty glare with my own. I don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that his dislike is reciprocated, because it no longer is. Archer Dean is now insignificant in my life. A nobody. So instead of matching his hateful glare, I walk through my front door without a backwards glance. It takes a few seconds longer than usual, but I hear the distinct slam of his front door as I make the way upstairs towards my bedroom.

  Chapter Two

  Annabelle (Archer 21 / Annabelle 16)

  “Archer, for the love of god, I can’t take this shit anymore. I don't even know who you are these days. You disappear for days on end, you can’t keep a job, I'm bailing you out of the local PD every other week for fighting, stealing or being a drunken nuisance. You brought drugs into my house for fuck’s sake. It has to stop."

  I watch through my front window as Janie jogs down her front steps after Archer, her voice verging on hysterical, pleading, when he only looks bored. “You’re 21 now; you need to start acting like an adult. A little help around here wouldn’t go amiss. If you haven’t noticed, Jake looks up to everything you do. Is that what you want Baby Boy, for him to follow in your footsteps? Cos' I sure as hell don't.”

  These one-sided arguments are becoming more and more frequent in the Dean house of late. Archer barely says anything as Janie lectures at him to sort his life out, it makes no difference, he never changes, has no want to be better. It makes me sad that he’s resided himself to living such an empty existence.

  Lighting a cigarette, he steps closer to the curb, his strong jaw ticking with the irritation of her words. Wheels screech as Josh's car speeds around the corner, coming to an idle in front of Archer. Janie calls his name and the argument in her voice has gone, she sounds defeated and this works to pause Archer’s departure. “Just be careful, yeah? I love you." The words are somewhat desperate, her voice cracking slightly.

  The heel of his black boot meets his cigarette butt as he throws it to the ground. Turning back towards Janie, his palm rests on the crown of her long black hair, pulling her forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. It lasts a beat, maybe two and I see the slight desperation in the moment. Not in Janie, in Archer and I’m shocked into stillness as I come to the realization that maybe there’s more to him than I judged there to be.

  Before I can give it anymore thought, Archer turns on his booted feet, jumping into the waiting car. Wheels screech again as Josh tears out of the street, his speed excessive.

  My eyes seek out Janie once again and my heart hurts for the sadness incasing her. Janie is beautiful; dark wash jeans hug her tall, slender figure and her plain white tank, stretched over her ample chest, is a contrast to the natural tan of her skin. Eyes, so similar to Jakey’s, are ice-blue, which pop against the ebony colored hair that falls straight down her back. But I watch her hands move to brace the top of her head as she slowly makes her way back into the house and all I can see is loss, her beauty suffocated by worry and failure.

  ***

  Standing by myself I take in the people surrounding the Chapel. My eyes focus in on Janie, Jakey cuddled into her side. Her posture is rigid, her discomfort clear as she offers a sad supportive smile to the departing crowd. I guess no one would be comfortable in this setting. Her emotions must be a mess right now; grief, incomprehension, relief. I imagine she would never admit that last one; I don't blame her for feeling that way though. Archer is still alive. Distant but breathing.

  I move my eyes from Janie, scanning the area to locate Archer sitting against a large maple off to the side of the Chapel. He refused to attend the service for reasons only known to him, but I’d knew he’d be here somewhere.

  I’ve dealt with my fair share of heartache over the years, more than a 16-year-old girl probably should. From this I’ve learnt that some people can’t comprehend grief. Their eyes lose their spark, becoming hollow as they stare into nothing. They close themselves off to everything as a way to stop the hurt.

  I get it. Why feel pain when you can make yourself feel nothing? When I first lost my Dad, I did exactly that. I closed myself off to everything, I became a shell of someone I used to be. In the beginning, this is what seemed easier to me. I didn’t want grief to infiltrate and consume my life. It was strange, like my existence was questionable. I was here, physically present, but that’s it. Nothing more existed of me. You start to live inside your head and you can’t understand why you’re still here and they aren’t. I came to believe that it would be easier being the one who leaves. Gran finally helped me to see that to move on with life, it was okay to let your hurt in. It was hard, excruciating, but I guess in the end you need to make the decision as to whether you want to exist or to actually live.

  I can tell Archer barely exists at the moment. His eyes are staring at the crowd gathered at the front of the Chapel, but he isn’t really seeing them. The green of his eyes appear dull, as if the darker-than-normal pockets framing them are shadowing further. His dark brown hair has grown out and is a complete mess. His strong jaw line is set hard, a few day’s growth only adding to his somber look. His suit jacket has been tossed to the side; the sleeves of his white dress shirt pushed untidily up his tanned arms.

  I hesitate for only a second before making my way over. He glances at me briefly as I make my approach, looking away again as I cross my ankles and drop down to the wet grass in front of him. His smell is intoxicating; cigarette smoke and soap. Fresh, but not. I inhale deeply, working to pull more of it in.

  Josh is dead. Gone, forever. Wrapped his car around a tree while out drinking one night. I feel sick thinking about it. Archer had been with Josh’s sister, Bartie that night. I can't stand the blow-up Barbie, but I am so thankful of her existence in this moment. I can't even imagine what losing him would do to Janie and Jake. Hell, even I'd miss his constant brooding.

  I stare at him and eventually he turns his attention back to me, staring back. I let my eyes skate over his face, over and over again and there’s no denying how beautiful he is. Lost, but beautiful. I don’t exactly know when my opinion of Archer’s physical appearance changed. Granted, I always knew women would find him attractive, I just never thought I would be one of them. But my god, the man is the physical definition of perfection. Over the past months, at any given opportunity, I steal glances when I know he isn’t looking. I watch the tick in his jaw when he’s irritated. I watch the way his muscles flex easily as he performs mundane activities like making coffee, sitting, standing. I find myself lost in imaging what it would be like to be touched by someone like him, so rough, so dominating. It angers me beyond belief, because I still think he’s a gigantic asshole. Just a rea
lly pretty, easy to look at, powerful, asshole.

  Bringing my attention back to his detached existence; I watch him, watch me. His assessment is similar to mine of him. Unsure. His shadowed eyes scan my face, taking in my large brown eyes, uncertainty and nervousness no doubt radiating from them, down to my slightly parted lips, where he stills. His focus remains on my mouth for an uncomfortable length of time and on its own accord my hand moves upwards, my fingers offering a feather light touch to my lips, insecure at his fixation. Flicking his eyes up to meet my own, the green of his iris darkens around his disapproving expression. Swallowing deeply his eyes drop to the column of my neck where he watches my throat move in its own deep swallow. I can feel the flush of his examination working into my skin, likely causing a nice pink glow to stain my otherwise creamy skin. Like only seeing me for the first time, his observation moves downward, resting on the swell of my chest. I watch as his lips quirk into a barely-there smirk, eyebrows raised, clearly stunned that I have breasts. Finishing his perusal, his eyes flick to my lips once more, stilling for a brief moment before focusing back on my eyes.

  Annoyance radiates from his demeanor. Turning his head from my watchful gaze, he shakes his head before moving to rake his eyes over me briefly once again, confusion clouding his features.

  Even sitting against the tree, his big body still seems imposing. One knee is bent, elbow resting on top, while his hand sets a constant rhythm by flicking his lighter. Fire. Out. Fire. Out. Fire. Out. We both become lost in the trance of the pattern before he breaks the connection to light a smoke.