Chapter Fourteen - Archer's Turmoil

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Chapter Fourteen - Archer's Turmoil

I lost the bet, but what the hey? Knowing that someone you tutored improved was good. It was obvious he was capable of more than his usual 'just a pass'. 

So somehow, they were now officially tagging along with with me at the show. Even more amazingly, somehow this was a good thing. If it ended up being me and Archer alone, I didn't know how I would survive.

All my exams had gone well, and all the papers were neatly wedged in between my exercise books. I'd have to show my parents as soon as I got home.

On the way out of the school gate, I overheard someone on the phone.
"I know, Peter, alright!?" He shouted. "Yes, I will continue calling you Peter."

It was wrong, but I stood behind the post and continued listening to Archer talking on the phone. After a few minutes after angrily grumbling, he hung up the phone.

"So, is there a reason you were eavesdropping?" He asked, suddenly poking his head round to my side of the gate post. I nearly jumped out of my skin, a shock running up through my body.
"Okay, I eavesdropped. So, why are you addressing your dad by his first name!?" I scolded, slapping him on the arm. "Where the heck have your manners gone!?"
"And this is the rebirth of the Cathy that I used to know," he mumbled, rubbing his arm.
"Well, I'm still waiting for the rebirth of the Archer I used to know," I sighed. "I know about the whole 'I'm dating a few girls at a moment' thing." He wrapped his hand around the nape of his neck, looked down and sighed, not saying anything.

After a while, I finally had the courage to say the words I'd been wanting to say for a while. "What happened to you?"

"Do you know why the world is cruel?" He sighed. I stayed silent. "People who have everything? No such thing. My bank account? It has over seven zeroes in it. And that's my bank account. Can you imagine what's in my parents' bank account? We're practically living in money. It's the perfect life, isn't it? So then, why is my mum coming home every single night, reeking of alcohol? And why is my dad not coming home, sometimes for days in a row?"
"Sorry," was all I could say.
"Remember the east wing? The library we used to study in? I'll take you there to show you what's become of it." I nodded.

He gestured and the black car parked along the side of the path moved forwards to where we were. He held the door open for me and I got in. I pulled out my phone and let my mum know I was going to Archer's house for a while.

The drive was silent, mainly with Archer staring aimlessly out of the window at the houses and cars that passed by.

A question had been bothering me, and I couldn't work out when it would be appropriate to ask him. Despite the fact my inner self had warned me not to ask, I did anyway, breaking the silence. "So why did you date so many girls?"
"For fun," he said nonchalantly. He turned to look at me. "These things don't last anyway. You don't grow strong attachments, or it hurts more when they leave. Isn't being in a relationship like gum? At the start, it's full of flavour, and then as you continue, it just becomes flavourless, and you spit it out."

I was too stunned for words to properly formulate any sentences, so I sat there in silence for the rest of the drive, teeth gritted. I wanted to yell at him, and argue, and prove that what he said wasn't true. But honestly, I didn't know how.

The pearly white gates automatically opened as the car neared them. We continued onto the estate, driving up towards the fountain before circling it slightly and stopping in front of the door. I got out and shut the door.

Just standing in the driveway, I realised I had completely forgotten exactly how big his house was. The 'front yard', well, the green grass, extended for hundreds of metres, and the house itself loomed over everything. We passed through the two front pillars and Archer pressed the bell on the wall.

"Good afternoon. Back already, sir?" The butler, Clement, asked. "And you have a guest,' he said, a little nervous. Somewhere inside the house, I could hear the sound of dishes smashing. Clement turned and looked into the house. "This probably isn't a good time -" Clement began.

The sheer look of fear and panic crossed Archer's face and he launched into the house, sprinting. Without thinking, I followed.

I halted as soon as I reached the kitchen. Fragments of cups, dishes and bowls lay scattered across the floor. Archer didn't stop. "Stop!" He yelled. "Stop it, alright!?" I cautiously stepped into the room once the hurling of items had stopped. Archer held his dad back. I watched his mum raise one of the bowls and I ran to her side, holding her wrist.

Not knowing what to say, I just looked up at her and did my best to smile; a smile that would tell her that everything was going to be okay. She sighed and her hand went limp, dropping the bowl on the ground beside her feet. She turned around, away from Archer's dad, her shoulders limp and shaking slightly. Her eyes were watering and I could tell she was doing her best not to cry.

Archer sighed, his eyes downcast. "What happened?" The words drifted softly from his mouth. That look in his eyes was the one I had previously seen in the car; he had given up.

"Anyway," his dad spoke up. "I'll be moving out with Lauren starting today. When I finish the divorce papers, I'll send them to you."
"You're what?" Archer's voice trembled with sheer anger as he let go of his dad's wrist.
"She's waiting outside in the car for me."

I watched as Archer's fist curled up. His jaw tightened. Before I could stop him, he'd already swung, catching Peter in the side of his face. Peter staggered backwards before stabilising himself against the bench top.

Peter opened his mouth so say something, but Archer cut him off. "If you don't get out, now, I'll go outside and punch that homewrecker of yours, right in the middle of her pretty little face," Archer threatened.

Peter didn't attempt to say anything and walked out, the fragments of glass crackling beneath his feet as he left the wrecked household, and Archer, behind.

“Mum!” Archer exclaimed. Her body swayed and momentarily slumped against the bench. She fell onto my side, and I gently lowered her down, leaving her head rested on my arm.

Archer picked her up and we walked to her bedroom. He gently put her onto the bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin. He sat down on the armchair by the bed, burying his face in his hands.

“It’s been the third time this week,” he sighed. He looked up at me. “I’m sorry for dragging you into all of this.”
“It’s okay.” I walked over to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. I tried to smile, but I couldn’t.

Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you tell me anything? He stayed silent, for all those months, trying to forget, and pretend it wasn't that bad. He stood up, looked at me and then hugged me, resting his head on my shoulder. “Please,” was all he said. I stayed still.

I could feel his body trembling. Never before had I seen Archer so weak.

The boy I had spent my early teenage years with, who would always grin triumphantly after managing to fall down a flight of stairs, who wouldn’t hesitate to beat up anyone who insulted anyone he cared about, was now hunched over with his head on my shoulder, crying.

~

Short chapter xD Any ideas for a cast? Comment below!

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