The Archer

'tis the damn season

Drinks, Chinese takeout, re-runs of Drake's Anatomy , and Kai Bartley sprawled on the couch– these were the makings of a typical Sunday afternoon at Mouse Montegomery's downtown apartment. In fact, these were the makings of her favorite Sundays. They were both so busy, Kai practically living in their lab and Mouse always buried under a neverending stack of papers to grade, but on Sunday afternoons, the world seemed to stand still as they put their labor down and spent time refinding their humanity. Here, there were no neurodegenerative diseases, no lecture halls, and no expectations. It was just Mouse and her best friend, against the world.

Above their heads, fairy lights entwined in plastic ivy twinkled where the walls met the ceiling in the small living room, bathing the two in a glow of warm light as they laughed at the TV. Adorning the walls were photos of her favorite people, her favorite places, and her favorite things. Shelves were stacked with books and knickknacks, the floor covered in cat toys and colorful rugs. The large bay windows were lined with plants in various stages of life, though most of them were closer to death– a fact that Kai never let her live down. If only the magic of a Sunday afternoon was enough to bring her succulents back to life, too.

These Sundays in Mouse's small apartment weren't much, but they were comforting, and they were hers.

Sitting with her feet tucked up under her, Mouse watched from the other end of the couch as Kai got lost in the television show, noticing how their pale blue-green eyes were luminescent even in the low light. It was hard not to see how the beauty radiated off of the neuroscientist, the perfect blend of handsome and gentle, of alluring and shy.

"Do you remember when we had to dissect that frog in Ms. Sable's biology class?" Kai asked, poking a set of ceramic chopsticks into their box of lo mein.

"Why," Mouse responded, shaking herself from her thoughts, "Why must you torture me?"

Kai laughed and sat up straight, putting on a posh British accent and holding a pinky out from their grip on their noodles, shimmying their shoulders to get into character.

"Mara Montegomery-Tyler, what in heaven's name have you done here?"

Mouse glared at Kai before twisting her face into a wicked smile.

"At least mine still looked like a frog and not like it was mauled by a tiger," Mouse said, knowing this would get a rise out of Kai before doing her own impression of the elderly teacher. "I can see why they all call you Cat, this certainly looks more like it was performed with claws than the instruments I gave you. Perhaps it does, indeed, suit you better to be called as such."

"God, she really had a stick up her ass about my name, didn't she?" Kai said with a snort, sticking one leg out to reclaim their monopoly of the couch cushions.

"I never understood why," Mouse replied, stabbing a piece of broccoli with her chopsticks after it had fallen into her bowl for the third time. "It's not like it was an abnormal nickname, Catherine Edwards went by Cat, too."

"I think it was less about the name and more so the entire ensemble– not only did I dress like a lumberjack, but I also blatantly refused to respond to anything resembling my dead name. That, and she caught me making out with Sienna Nichols behind the Tilt-a-Whirl the week before we started school."

Mouse choked a laugh, barely managing to swallow her food before a deep belly laugh rang from her chest.

"It was Ms. Sable who caught you necking Sienna the summer after 8th grade? Oh my god, you never told me it was her! That's hilarious."

Tears started to catch behind Mouse's eyes as she laughed, her face flushing bright red as it always did when she laughed too hard. Her mother always said that she could never keep a secret, her blush always gave her away. Try as she might, however, Mouse could never control the rosy tint that ebbed and flowed throughout the day and she resigned herself to wearing her heart on her cheeks.