Sprint

Chapter fourteen

Archer isn't there when I wake up. The world is out of focus and dark, but even so, I can tell I'm in his bed. Embarrassment floods my brain when I realize I fell asleep here. I'd been so tired once the adrenaline drained away that I could barely move.

I reach out for my glasses left on the nightstand. Once I perch them on my nose, I'm shocked to find that I can see well. Better than the backup glasses should allow me. On the nightstand are my phone and keys, a little note left behind.

'Here's your stuff. I'll pick up dinner after dryland. Do not leave this room, or I swear to god, James!'

Oh, so he's bossy on top of everything else? For some reason, I find that I don't mind much. Maybe it's because he's just saved me hundreds of dollars by getting back my things. How exactly did he manage that?

I do as I'm told and wait in the room. I wanted to go to dryland - I never miss practice, not even when I had strep throat last year - but Archer convinced me to stay home. He practically bullied me into calling in sick. When I get up to use the bathroom, I'm thankful he did. My feet are sore, and I can't help trembling a little.

Maybe having to walk a mile in swim trunks and a sweater isn't that bad, all things considered, but being without my glasses scared me more than I like to admit. I've always needed glasses, but when I hit puberty, my vision declined rapidly. So, earlier this year, I finally saved enough money for LASIK surgery. It was supposed to correct my vision, so I no longer needed aid.

But it failed. Whatever correction I got has gradually decreased, and now my vision is worse than before. I struggle with halos and double vision, and I'll always need glasses.

That permanent codependency to be able to do something as simple as see still freaks me out. So when the glasses weren't there, when my worst nightmare came true and I couldn't fucking see, it did a number on my brain. I can't quite shake the fear, even now.

I call Jack for our weekly phone call, but I don't mention what happened. After the bullying back in high school, he's very protective regarding things like this. There's no reason to upset him when everything turned out okay. He still hears something in my voice, but I lie and tell him Archer is being annoying. For the first time, the words ring false.

As promised, Archer returns with food. He won't look at me and sits down to eat in front of his computer with headphones on. If he hears my attempts at conversation, he ignores them. I wonder if helping me out was just a momentary truce, and we're back to being rivals now.

I'm not sure that word fits anymore.

It's not until we're both in bed and the lights are out that I feel able to express my gratitude.

"Thank you for getting my stuff back." I don't expect an answer, but I hear him turning over in bed.

"You're welcome," he says, his voice low, sincere, and void of any taunting. I can count the number of times he's spoken to me like that before today on one hand. "It was about time someone stood up to Nick. I don't like bullies."