no scrubs [varchie]

two

"How do you want your eggs?"

Grumbling from beneath his pillow, Archie tried to savor the bliss of what sleep he had, which was rudely interrupted by his father. It wasn't a typical occasion for either of the Andrews men to do something for the other, but of course, this could be only described as the difficulty in trying to connect as father and son in a situation such as this.

"Scrambled, thanks," he murmured in reply, stretching out to where it would situate his cast more comfortably. Archie fumbled around to find his phone, all the while his eyes remaining shut, and he waited for his dad to leave.

He knew his father too well, and it seemed that the visit would be a long one. There came a sound of shuffling from behind, to which Archie concluded was his dad navigating the mess of schoolwork piled at his door. Ever since the incident with his music teacher, his dad kept out of the academics business.

Fred winced as the bed screeched upon his arrival. "I reckon this has seen better days. You have slept in this since you were little, back when mom would-" Archie tensed under the sheets, and that silenced him right away.

"I can tell you're bummed out about what your coach may do, but," he rubbed his hands over his jeans, "It shouldn't define your entire high school career, and you'll get through it."

Archie rolled over to face his father, and he stared at him momentarily before leaping up and snatching a shirt from atop his dresser. He showed no interest in talking about the future, which is where the conversation was headed, so he expertly changed the subject.

Slipping the shirt over his head, he stumbled over a pile of stray books and said, "We don't cook often, but I do know when food is burning." Fred sarcastically chuckled, and he didn't call his son out for finding a way to rid of him, so he trudged towards the door.

It took a sigh to snap him back into reality, and to start the day off in a right, old way. Archie hurried over to his window, and he peered across to another window adorned with a lace pink curtain. He tapped the frame, deciding on something, and then pulled out his phone.

There were select messages from his friends and teammates wishing him a speedy recovery, but he ignored them as he searched for one specifically. He pressed down on the contact name and held his phone up to his ear as the ringing hummed loudly. "Betty?"

She certainly had answered the phone, but it seemed the sleeping beauty just wasn't awake yet. Archie held back a chuckle, and he distracted himself by choosing pants to wear.

"Hey," came the timid reply from the other line followed by another yawn. "You're up awfully early over there. Everything alright?"

Debating on whether or not to tell her about the worries he was having, Archie swallowed hard. "Yeah, yeah. I've just been thinking about what's ahead, and it's got me conflicted about a lot." He played it off with a laugh, and he uneasily scratched the back of his neck.

Betty shifted herself upright at this. For as long she'd know Archie, there had only been certain times when she knew he was hurting deep down. She could sense that quiver being held back by his manly instincts and how it was itching to climb its way out of his throat.

Each obstacle in life for him was a whack in the face. She remembered the early days when he couldn't find his crayons, and the end of the world seemed imminent. This current situation reflected that, at a different level of course, but it showcased that hopeless boy again.

Solutions were often found with a sentimental talk over drinks at the diner, and Betty figured that's what he wanted. She tied her hair up in a ponytail and headed over to the window where she could see a glimpse of him. "Arch, I have to be somewhere in an hour, and-"

She heard the defeated sigh of her friend, and it made her almost regret saying anything. One part of her felt torn, but the other reminded her that she was much more than his therapist every time something went wrong. "Veronica may be available, if you seek the advice from a female friend in particular."

Archie wondered why he never thought of her as someone to talk to. Their friendship hadn't hit that point where he felt as though the trust bond was strong enough. Maybe that would change over this year and with this first talk.

"I'll see if she's able then," he replied, and to her surprise he didn't sound let down one bit or question her in the shift of plans. She stumbled over her words, but eventually hung up the phone and recollected herself.

"Eggs aren't burning, and your old man isn't waiting all day to eat them," Fred shouted from downstairs, unaware of his son's motives to eat elsewhere - and with a special someone.

Archie found her number buried among his contacts, and he hurriedly called her while pulling on his football jacket. "Ronnie, are you by chance free for a milkshake at Pop's?"

Little did either of them know, that clever hello would be the start of something fresher than the flavors of any milkshake ever. Neither of them would admit it as they sat down at the diner that morning, but something fluttered in each of their hearts that drove them to unlikely, but definite feelings.