AllFreeNovel
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Bad idea, I know. The more I drink, the more I think about Archer. Maddy and I share another joint, which makes it worse. The warm wind against my skin reminds me of Archer’s touch.
And then I do what I do best—being drunkenly annoying as I pick up my phone and text him.
Me: Are you doing alright?
There are three messages just like this already above, answered, “Fine.” More of, “Wanna talk?” answered with, “Have a lot of things going on right now.”
I regret this message right away. Until the sound of an incoming message makes my heart jump out of my chest.
Archer: I’m fine, thanks.
It dawns on me that it’s an auto-response, or one of those pre-made messages.
I dial his number, ready to jump up and walk away for a talk if he picks up. He doesn’t.
Callie laughs cheerfully as she shouts something to Kai in the water. Dani cheers. Marlow whistles. Everyone seems so happy. Do they know how precious this is?
I’m not depressed. I’m not. I keep repeating this to myself, but I don’t even feel like going for a swim, taking my boots off, or even being here. I down the beer, trying to fill the emptiness inside me that’s become almost permanent lately.
I’ve been wrong about Archer. Everyone talks about how he doesn’t care about others. Truth is, Archer cares a whole lot, just never shows it. About Kai and Callie, the Outcasts, Ayana, even the medication they develop, and the people who need it. He’s like a Jedi, in charge of this small world called Zion. And it’s not just about the lab, no matter what they say. Otherwise, he’d move to Australia and work from there.
The night of his father’s death made me realize that he feels alone. I remember his face when he came to it after the overdose, gloomy, hopeless, as if surprised that he was still alive. Like it was a mistake. Like his actions were premeditated.
The thought rips my heart. My hand instinctively goes to my neck, and my fingers brush along Archer’s gold chain. I still wear it, the subtle reminder of what we had.
The lump in my throat is growing at the thought. Just then Maddy turns to me and asks, “Are you doing alright?”
This. Fucking. Question!
Tears well up in my eyes. I’m sonotalright. So lost. So missing him that any other response would make me break down crying, so I blurt out the only easy thing that people who are not alright do:
“I’m fine, thanks.”
8
KAT
A monthwithout Archer on Zion creates a void inside me until I feel like I’m a zombie, carrying on from one day to another on autopilot.
We were expecting the heads up about Archer’s return, but nothing about Archer is casual. He left after the terrorist bombing and comes back with another bomb.
It’s early afternoon, and Marlow and I sit on the terrace gazebo by the pool at his villa. It’s raining, the sky gloomy and heavy with gray clouds, and the air is sticky with warmth and humidity.
It rains almost every day now. Nature seems to be crying for the good old happy times.
I finally made it to Marlow’s home three weeks ago. A one-hour tour gave me an idea of what millions can buy. His villa is a little smaller than Archer’s but nevertheless equipped with a multi-level pool and hot tub, a gym room, a sauna, and a giant bathroom with a tub in the middle like a lonely boat in the ocean.
“Don’t tell me you take baths, Marlow,” I said, eyeing the damn thing and wondering what one can possibly do in a bathroom big enough to have a party with a hundred people.
“I do.” Marlow frowned like I’d offended him.
I don’t want to picture Marlow in a tub. Rose petals and candles? Marlow is a mystery. Shooting guns and playing the guitar. Handling Ayana security and composing love songs. All muscles, gym workouts, and half-unbuttoned metrosexual clothes, colognes and jewelry. I know there’s a part of Marlow that could knock my socks off from surprise, but it’s probably reserved for someone special. I only hope he meets her soon.
There’s also a recording studio with guitars lining up the walls and a drum set. There’s a game room.
“Axavier likes testing out his new projects here,” he explains. Axavier designs video games with immersive experience measured and altered by the sensor pads attached to the players.
“Cool,” I repeated over a dozen times during the tour.
