Cold and Charisma (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Archer's Perspective

Today was the day.

I was finally going to ask Riley to officially be my boyfriend.

I'd spent the entire night trying to conjure up the right words to write down for the letter I was going to give him. 

Writing has always been my strong suit—whatever I couldn't say in person, I could sit with and figure out on paper. The question was whether or not he'd even read it.

Nonetheless, I persisted—crumbled up paper balls spilling from my trash can, a bouquet sitting in a vase with water, ready to be given to none other than the boy I loved more than anything. Riley Lachkov.

After rereading the letter so many times my eyes started burning, I finally decided it was worthy of his time and sealed it neatly. 

Either this would work, or blow up in my face—either way, I was done playing games. If he wanted me, great—if he didn't?

I'd probably just cry for a week straight.

Scratch that. A month.

I shook that thought out of my head. You'll be fine, Archer. You explained everything in the letter. You'll be fine. I repeated it to myself so many times it started sounding less like reassurance and more like delusion. That's when I knew I needed to shut up and go to bed.

That was last night.

This is one p.m., half an hour after I had to stand there and listen to Riley talk about me like I was some obsessed loser to the point where I had to run to the nearest restroom and wipe away my tears like a pathetic, lovesick dog that keeps following its owner no matter how many times it gets kicked away.

It was the first time I ever skipped class, and it wasn't even for anything fun. It was so I could sit on the bathroom floor and bawl my eyes out while clutching paper towels and trying to make my eyes look normal again for my council meeting after school.

I felt like a freak staring into the mirror. My whole composed, put-together image completely ruined by none other than Riley.

For the first time, I didn't feel like everything was going to be okay. Not later. Not tomorrow. Not even eventually.

When he yells at me, it's different. It always feels like he's trying to protect himself from something. 

But this time? This time it felt like he was just telling the truth. Like I finally heard what he really thinks of me when I'm not around.

The cold, monotone way he said "yeah" when I asked if that's how he really felt is what keeps replaying in my head. No yelling. No arguing. Just one word.

One word that I swear changed something in me.

I don't even remember when I fell for him exactly. And if someone asked me to name one reason why, I wouldn't be able to. 

Not because there isn't one—but because there's too many and none of them would make sense out loud.

Maybe it was the first time he actually smiled at me. The day I took him to get ice cream at the pier. I remember thinking I wanted to show him everything. Now I realize I just wanted to be part of his world. Until he told me the next day it meant nothing.

Or maybe it was when he stole my first kiss at that party. The same party where I punched my own teammate for him, the first time I'd ever hit someone in my life. The kiss made it feel worth it. Until he pretended like it never happened.