Accidentally Good & Bad

Chapter 26: Archer Scott

I am broken out of my coma like trance when the loud creaking of my bedroom door fills the silence of my room.

"Damn! Someone definitely died in here!" A familiar voice exclaims. A slight thud followed by a yelp of pain sounds next. I can assume the idiot ran into a table or a history textbook.

"What an idiot," Another familiar voice speaks, pausing before continuing, "But I agree. It smells like my grandma's house in here; decaying food and a dying person."

"Will, that's fucking disgusting."

"Says the idiot who ran into a fucking table."

"It's fucking dark in here!"

"There's also a fucking idiot in here!"

I growl under my breath. "I get it, your favorite word is fuck! Now shut the fuck up!"

"Seems like someone's favorite word is fuck too." I can tell it's Parker by now, even if I've shut myself off from the world for three days. Or was it five? Two? I don't know, and I don't really care.

It's been a few days since Manhattan's been gone. And, to put it honestly, I'm fucked. I've been so used to seeing her everyday, spending as much time when we're together that without her? I feel so damn lost, as if the only thing I could ever need in the world was stripped away from me. Which is exactly what's happening. Manhattan ran away. No one even fucking noticed, she slipped out from beneath our noses. She didn't bring me along. She didn't give us a warning. She just disappeared.

Have you ever loved someone so fucking much, that even the thought of being apart from them fucking hurts? Well yeah, I love Manhattan more than I love anything else in the world; more than the guys, more than pizza, more than football, hell even more than my parents! The thought of being away from Manhattan... it's bizarre and insane. But now that she really is gone, I am gone too. I'm not with her, wherever she is. But without her, I am gone. My happiness just out the door with her.

Manhattan doesn't have an obvious beauty. She doesn't have the beauty that makes you stop in your tracks to get a better look. She has a quiet beauty, a beauty that deepens when you get to know her. Her smile is killer, a smile that has been kept away for so long that it's extremely bright. Her sapphire blue eyes captivate you, pulling you into her, wanting- begging for more. Her chocolate brown hair falls to the small of her back, in waves, framing her heart shaped face. I've been in love with her the second she stepped foot in Pete's Pizza Parlor.

"Fuck, I think he's deaf now!" I snap out of my little world that is Manhattan to glare at a worried Parker, who's waving a hand in front of my face.

Will shifts on his feet. "I don't think so, Park. He's glaring at you pretty hard." I switch my glare to Will.

Parker furrows his eyebrows and purses his lips, a classic Parker Wilson thinking face. His eyes suddenly light up, as if he's found a solution. Clearing his throat, he says, "I took Manhattan's virginity back in October."

I don't remember launching out of the bed, throwing back the covers, and bounding to where Parker stands near a window. I don't remember grabbing his shirt collar and lifting him up in the air. Parker's tall, 5'11, but I'm taller. Five inches taller. I don't realize I'm spitting out death threats at him until I hear them come out of my mouth, "Fucking touch my girlfriend ever fucking again and I will fucking murder you personally."

A laugh bubbles out of Parker's mouth. He laughs! Actually laughs! When my glare intensifies he quickly stops laughing to explain himself. "Archer, bro, I'm kidding! I only wanted to make sure you were still yourself!" I grip his shirt collar more, and he adds, "And yes, I will never ever touch your girlfriend." I let him drop back to the ground without a word.

"Although, technically, Manhattan isn't your girlfriend."

I lowly growl and turn on Will instead. "Excuse me?"

Will throws his hands up in surrender. "I mean, that since you never officially asked Manhattan to be your girlfriend, she's still sorta single."

I rake my fingers through my dirty blonde hair. "Fuck."

"Worse case scenario is Manhattan got tired of all of the fighting revolving around you and her so she ran away to start over, met a new boy, and fell in love with him. And next thing you know, you've been invited to their wedding and they have fifty kids and you die alone sad!" Parker pipes up. His tone is cheery unlike everything he just said.

"Not helping, Parker."

"Fuck, sorry."

Images of Manhattan running away, down streets with her white sundress and chocolate brown hair flowing out behind her as she ran. Converse slapping the pavement. Chest heaving up and down with pants, sucking in air quickly. Cheeks flushed and red with the rush. Narrowly dodging people as she ran, and ran, and ran. Until she was out of Monterey.

And away from me.

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MIKAILA