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Chapter 22 - Archer
It was amazing how quickly the term went by when you were actually paying attention to your studies. Archer knew that he’d been putting in more effort since the disastrous news he’d received before the mid-semester break, but it still surprised him every time one of his teachers complimented him on his new work ethic. It wasn’t as though he was doing that much extra work. He’d always imagined that people who got good grades were slaving away for eight hours a night, hunched over their books in miserable solitude. But Archer was quickly finding that an hour or two each night was more than enough to keep him on top of his workload. And what was more, being ahead of the work meant he was getting a lot more out of his classes, too… which made getting on top of his homework even easier, in a cascading loop of positive feedback that was the exact mirror of the cycle of procrastination and despair he’d been trapped in at the start of the year.
And it helped, of course, that he was spending so much time with Morgan.
He still couldn’t believe his good luck. Every time he felt her eyes land on him, some part of him braced himself for the inevitable announcement that she was tired of him, that she’d decided she didn’t want to see him anymore. Nothing had changed about the way she spoke to him in public, of course. If anything, her barbs had gotten sharper, her wit keener and more acerbic as the two of them continued to spar and bicker every chance they got. But then they’d find themselves alone together… and all of a sudden, her razor-sharp tongue would be otherwise occupied.
His friends had noticed the change in him, too. He’d braced himself for ridicule, at first, resigned to the prospect of being socially ostracized for turning down an invitation to hang out because he had homework to finish. But to his surprise, his friends had just nodded and said they’d see him next time. The weeks crept by, and he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it didn’t, he wondered whether he might have been too quick to judge the guys he was hanging out with. Where had he gotten the idea they’d reject him if he showed them anything other than the arrogant, cocky mask he’d been wearing all year? Honestly, it was kind of a relief to be able to let his guard down a little around them. These days, seeing his friends was feeling less and less like stepping onto a stage in front of a judgmental audience, and more like… well, more like seeing his friends. Imagine that.
It was strange to realize that exams were coming up again. Last term, he’d done everything he could to avoid thinking about the exams, wanting to avoid the sick lurch of guilt and anxiety he’d feel every time he thought about them. This time around, though, he was almost looking forward to throwing himself into the deep end, finding out exactly how well he’d done this term. As classes began to wind up, he and Morgan were spending more and more time together—long afternoons in the library, absorbed in their respective study tasks, exchanging occasional glances until the tension grew too thick to bear. Then one of them would break—it was usually Archer—and make up some excuse about needing to grab a book from their dorm.
It was important to take study breaks, after all. And if you could combine that study break with some vigorous exercise, well, that was even better, wasn’t it?
“I hate that professor Rowton was right,” he said one afternoon, wrinkling his nose at the page of notes he’d been revising. Morgan looked up from her own books, raising an eyebrow at the non-sequitur. They’d been sitting at their favorite table in the library all afternoon and he’d broken a silence that had lasted an hour.
“Right about what?”
“I do much better at learning when other people are around.” He tapped on the notes with his pen. “I tried to go over this last night in my room, and none of it stuck. With you sitting here, I’ve got it locked in. You’re a good influence.”
Morgan snorted. “You’re just scared of me.”
“Damn right I’m scared of you.” He grinned. “You better show me what you’re enrolling in next semester. I’m going to need to be in at least one of your classes.”
“Bold of you to assume you’re going to pass your exams,” Morgan pointed out idly, her eyes dancing. “You didn’t last time.”
“And yet here I am,” he pointed out. “They couldn’t even get rid of me when I failed three-quarters of my subjects. What hope do they have of getting rid of me when I get the best marks in the school?”
“Second-best,” Morgan corrected him. “How will it feel, do you think? Being here on merit, and not just because of your dad?”
The laugh he uttered was a little shaky, and he shot her a quick look across the table. Most of the time, he enjoyed their banter, but every now and then she’d land one that genuinely hurt. She looked back at him, her eyes unreadable. Her expression was always opaque when they were in public like this. Sometimes when he got her alone, he caught glimpses of her softer side, something that reminded him of how she’d been when the two of them had first met… but he knew better than to try to force her to show him that softness again. It was too late for that. He ought to be grateful for what time they did spend together. It was more than he deserved.
Still, sometimes he wondered what they could have been if he hadn’t screwed everything up as badly as he had…
“Too far, huh?” Morgan said now, and though her tone was breezy, he was surprised by what she’d said. She never acknowledged it when her jokes cut a little too deep.
“I hadn’t thought about my dad in ages,” he said now, frowning a little at the realization. “No wonder I’ve been in such a good mood lately.”
“Is he coming to the end-of-year party?”
“Don’t remind me,” Archer groaned, sitting back in his chair and rubbing his head wearily. “What a treat I’ve got to look forward to.”
“Mm. First failing all your exams, then explaining it to your father…” He was familiar enough with the rhythm of their arguments by now to know that that was his cue to retort. Instead, he turned his eyes back to his notes, frowning a little, and after a long pause in which he could feel Morgan’s eyes on him, she cleared her throat and turned back to her own study. The strained silence slowly returned to normal, but he noticed that Morgan didn’t bring his father up again.
Exam week came and went in a blur. It was still a nerve-wracking time, but Archer could instinctively feel how different his worries were this time. Last term, he’d been afraid of not being able to answer a single question. This term, his concerns were about allocating his time well, about ensuring he articulated his arguments clearly, about which areas he should focus most of his revision time on. And though he was worried about jinxing it by saying so aloud, he was confident that barring some kind of natural disaster, he was at the very least going to pass the exams. But to his surprise, that knowledge wasn’t as much of a relief as he’d expected it to be. The truth was, he didn’t just want to settle for a pass. For the first time in his life, Archer actually wanted to excel. He wanted his grades to be good enough to prove to the Dean and all his teachers that they’d been right to give him a chance.
He wanted to show them that there was more to him than just being the son of a billionaire.
The final week of study before the exams was exhausting. He and Morgan put in extra hours in the library—they’d agreed that they were going to take the weekend before the exams off from study completely, to give all their revision a chance to settle, and to give their tired minds a chance to rest and recuperate so they’d be in the best possible shape for exam week. It felt strange to put away his notes for good when he knew the exams were only a few days away. He might have been tempted to keep studying if it weren’t for the considerably more inviting distraction that was lying in his bed wearing nothing but a smirk.
Morgan went home late the following afternoon, lingering in the doorway for just a moment to wish him luck. He waited expectantly for the inevitable barb that was coming, but Morgan just flashed him a quick smile, then closed his door behind her. He was a little taken aback, but he was still grinning about it half an hour later when he headed into the living room to check in with his friends. They’d been in cramming mode all weekend, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if they hadn’t even noticed Morgan was there.
“Letter for you,” Brody said, not looking up from his textbook as he pointed at the kitchen counter. “Came this morning.”
“Thanks.” Archer grabbed it, then hesitated before he headed back into his room. “Make sure you get some sleep tonight, yeah? All this study will be for nothing if you’re too sleep-deprived for your brain to work.”
Brody groaned, but he nodded weary agreement as he shut the textbook. “Wise, dude. Very wise. Thanks.”
“Pure self-interest,” Archer said with a grin. “I refuse to accept any new roommates, so you two have got to pass. End of story.”
