Chapter Sixteen
Kassidy
#8—Attend a movie marathon
Archer is waiting outside my last class like he promised. To say I’m nervous would be an understatement. My insides are being attacked by a swarm of angry butterflies, and my head is spinning. What does he need to talk about?
Taking a deep breath, I head over to where Archer stands against the wall. He looks like he’s posing for a magazine, but I know he’s simply trying to stay out of the way of the students clamoring to get out of here for the weekend.
“Hey.” I stand in front of him, shoving my fingertips into the pockets of my jeans.
“Hey.” He pushes off the wall, running a shaky hand through his hair. He’s nervous, too. That’s not a good sign.
“So…” I bite my lip. “What’s up?” Shoes squeak on the linoleum, shoulders and elbows jab me in the back, jostling me forward.
“Whoa.” Archer reaches out a hand to steady me. His palm is warm against my wrist as his fingers curl around my arm. This is usually when I freak out and pull my hand away. But for some reason, I’m surprisingly calm. “You okay?”
I nod, stunned by my behavior. What is it about this guy?
“Here.” He steps closer to the wall, his hand still gripping my wrist. I follow him, but there’s no need. The halls are clearing out fast. Only a few stragglers are left. We had been standing in the way during the real whirlwind.
Once we are safely against the wall, he releases me, his fingers finding their way back to his hair. I steel myself for the worst.
“About tonight,” he starts, and my head snaps up. “I––I know you have stuff to do, but it’ll be fun, and we’ll probably be watching movies until pretty late. We have a lot to get through, you know.” He’s rambling, which is exactly what I do when I’m anxious. “So––if you finish your stuff early, you can come over. I mean, even if you finish late you can. Like I said, we’ll be watching movies for a while. And I can even pick you up if you want.”
He’s cute when he’s flustered. And the fact that it’s over me makes it even cuter.
“No, that’s okay. I don’t need a ride,” I say. “I can drive myself.”
“So…” He raises his brows. “Does this mean you’re coming over?”
I nod. “Sure. I’ll come over when I’m done with my stuff.” Even though he probably saw through my lame excuse, I feel an irrational need to hold on to it.
“Cool.” He blows out a breath. “I’ll text my address.”
“Sounds good.” I smile. “See ya.”
“Cool.” He nods.
Whirling around, I hurry down the hallway. It’s not until I’m safely in my car that I let out a little squeal and allow my smile to deepen. When I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror I hardly recognize myself. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes bright. I appear more alive than I have in months.
I suppose that’s because I am.
…
“Please tell me you’re not checking us in on Facebook,” Mac whines, peering over Archer’s shoulder. We are sitting on the couch in Archer’s family room, Mac and I on either side of Archer, while an old, classic movie is playing on the TV. I forgot what it’s called. I’ve never heard of it before. Plus, it was already going when I got here, so I’m a little lost. Not that it matters. Mac and Archer don’t seem as into the movie as I had anticipated they would be. Mostly they’ve been bantering and scrolling through their phones.
“Okay, I won’t tell you,” Archer answers with a grin, his fingers still typing.
“People already think we’re a couple,” Mac points out.
“Think this will add fuel to the fire?” Archer holds up his phone.
With eyes squinted, Mac reads, “Movie night with bae.” Glaring, he glances up. “Seriously, dude, I will kick your ass if you post that.”
Archer laughs. “Okay, I’ll put something else.”
“Don’t put anything else,” Mac says.
“Are you on Facebook, Kassidy?” Archer turns to me.
I wipe my clammy hands on the thigh of my jeans. “Yeah.”
“Under Kassidy Milton?” he asks.
I nod.
His head lowers over his phone. “Ah hah. I found you.” He looks up. “Now friend me back.”
Mac playfully punches him in the upper arm. “Don’t boss the lady around.”
“Was that bossy?” Archer asks me. “If it was, I’m sorry. Only friend me if you want to.”
Giggling, I pull my phone out of my pocket. “There,” I say after, clicking on Archer’s name. “Officially friended.”
“Oooooh,” Mac coos. “It’s official now, folks.”
Again, I laugh.
Archer shakes his head. “Ignore him.”
“Ignore me?” Mac presses his palm to his chest in mock horror. “No. Ignore him. He’s the one forcing us to watch stupid old movies on Friday night.”
“It’s not that bad,” I answer softly, catching Archer’s eye. And it may be my imagination, but I think I see a glimmer of something there. A spark, maybe.
“Well, it is for me.” Mac stands. “Plus, I was invited to a party tonight, so I gotta jam.”
“Ella’s party?” Archer asks.
“Yeah.” Mac grabs his jacket that’s strung over the back of the couch. “She invite you, too?”
Archer nods.
“Then let’s ditch the boring videos and get outta here. What do you say?” Mac’s gaze slides from Archer to me.
My body goes hot, and I fear my cheeks are bright red. The last thing I want to do is go hang out with Ella and her friends. Parties aren’t my thing. The reason I got up the courage to come tonight was because it sounded fun and low-key. Something I could handle.
Biting my lip, I shake my head. “You two can go. I have to get up early in the morning.” Staring at my hands, my heart sinks. I wish I were braver, outgoing, adventurous.
“I don’t wanna go, either.” Archer’s words surprise me.
Mac flashes a crooked smile. “Seriously? You’re both bowing out?”
Archer and I nod in unison.
“Suit yourself. I’m outta here” he says, shaking his head.
“All right. See ya later,” Archer calls out as Mac starts toward the front door.
“See ya,” I say.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves our words away. “Whatever, party-poopers.” His tone is annoyed, but I swear I see a ghost of a smile flicker across his lips when his gaze briefly meets Archer’s. Even more surprising is the look Archer gives him in return. It’s like the two of them are in on some private joke. But then Mac’s smile disappears so quickly I wonder if I imagined it. “Man, you two really are perfect for each other,” Mac says right before the front door slams shut.
I freeze at his words. What did he mean by that? Bravely, I look at Archer. When our gazes entwine, my breath hitches in my throat. The tension between us is undeniable. It’s exciting and terrifying all at once. He doesn’t break eye contact, so I hold it steady as well. His expression is serious, lips mashed together into a tight line. He leans in a little closer, and my pulse kick starts, pounding beneath my flesh like a manic drumbeat. I swallow thickly as his eyes darken.
The front door opens, ending the moment.
Blinking, I’m yanked out of a trance. Archer’s head snaps toward the front door as if he’s surprised. I wonder if Mac changed his mind about the party.
“Archer, honey?” A woman’s voice floats into the room, heels clacking on the floor.
Nope. Not Mac. Archer’s mom. Exhaling, I sit up straight. It’s not like we were doing anything wrong, but nonetheless my palms moisten.
“Oh, there you are.” A beautiful woman enters the room wearing a little black dress and carrying a deep, floral scent. Her coloring is lighter than Archer’s, but I can see him in the slope of her nose and the shape of her eyes. When a man walks in behind her, it’s clear to me who Archer favors. He’s a spitting image of his dad. “And who’s your friend?” His mom’s eyebrows rise.
“Mom, Dad, this is Kassidy. Remember I told you she was coming over to watch movies?” Archer speaks swiftly, his words practically stringing together into one.
“Yes, I remember, but I seem to also remember that Mac’s name was tossed around, too,” his mom responds, speaking slowly.
Archer shifts on the couch. I blow out a breath, pulling at the bottom of my sleeves. Now I sort of wish I had left with Mac and gone to that party. It probably wouldn’t have been as uncomfortable as this is.
“Yeah. Mac just left. There’s some party he wanted to go to,” Archer says, shocking me. Kate used to go to parties all the time, but I never told my parents. No way. They’d never let me hang out with her again if they knew.
His mom’s face softens. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t go with him.” Stepping forward, she smiles and extends her hand. “Hi, Kassidy. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
I take her hand in mine. “Thanks, Mrs. Devlin. You, too.”
Mr. Devlin steps forward and greets me as well. Then he glances up at the screen. “Hopefully, this guy isn’t boring you too much with these old movies.”
“No, it’s fine.” I nod insistently. There’s no way I’d ever be bored in Archer’s presence. At least not while he makes my head spin and my heart race.
“How was your dinner?” Archer asks.
“It was good,” his mom answers. “But now I’m beat.” Reaching down, she unhooks the straps on her high heels. Once they’re off she lets out a sigh of satisfaction. “I’ve been waiting hours to take those off.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Mr. Devlin says. “She loves these work dinners. Lives for them, even.”
She shakes her head, but Archer gives a subtle nod and throws his dad a knowing smile.
“Either way, I’m exhausted,” she repeats.
“Then let’s get you to bed,” Mr. Devlin tells her.
“Sounds good.” She pauses, glancing down at Archer and me. “You two behave. And don’t stay up too late.”
“Okay, mom. Good night.” Archer shakes his head.
“Good night,” his parents say before exiting the room.
Once they’re gone, Archer looks at me. “Sorry about that.”
I giggle. “Seriously, no apology needed. Just wait until you meet my mom.” Clamping my mouth shut, I scold myself for saying that. Pretty presumptuous of me.
But Archer doesn’t appear bothered. “Will she ask me to behave myself, too?”
“Probably not. She thinks she’s a teenager.”
He laughs. “You’re messin’ with me.”
I giggle. “Kind of. I mean, she doesn’t really think she’s a teenager, but she talks like one.”
“Really?
“Yep. It’s weird. But also, kinda funny.”
“I bet,” he says. “Well, I look forward to one day meeting this hip mom of yours.”
My insides warm. I love how he talks about meeting my mom like it’s an inevitable thing.
A loud buzzing catches my attention. I reach down into my pocket, thinking it’s my phone, but then realize it’s coming from Archer. Dropping my hands, I rest them in my lap, my knuckles dragging across the denim material of my jeans. On the TV the black and white movie still plays. I had forgotten about it.
“Sorry,” Archer mumbles, typing with his thumbs. “It’s Ross.”
“Are you close?” Ross is a subject I’m curious about. Not because he’s famous, but because he’s Archer’s twin
“Yeah.” Archer nods while he continues typing. Then he puts his phone down and lifts his head.
“You must miss him, then.”
He shrugs. “Kinda.” I raise my brows, surprised by his statement. He smiles. “But it’s nice having him gone. When he’s around no one notices me.”
My head bobs up and down. I know exactly what he’s saying.
“He’s always been the life of the party. He’s more outgoing than me. More charming than me.”
“I doubt it,” I burst out before I can stop myself.
“What?” His brows knit together.
“Nothing,” I say swiftly, then clamp my mouth shut.
“When we were kids, my mom dressed us alike. We’ve done everything together our whole lives. It’s sorta nice to have a break from him. Does that make sense?”
“Perfect sense,” I say firmly. Music startles me, and my head swings upward to the television which is now blasting some song I don’t recognize while the credits scroll the screen. “Oh, geez. We missed your whole movie.”
“It’s no biggie.” He waves away my concern, reaching for the remote on the coffee table
Gathering courage to ask the question I’ve been wanting to since this afternoon, I scoot forward, angling my body toward Archer. Then I pick nervously at a thread on the couch. “What did Mac mean about you being the reason the Playlisters are famous?” I practically exhale with relief when I get the question out. Courage isn’t something I have a lot of. Kate used to affectionately call me the Cowardly Lion. And it was clear earlier that Archer didn’t want to talk about this. Still, I’m too curious not to bring it up again.
“Mac exaggerates things.” Archer shrugs. “All I did was help them make their first video.”
“Help them how?” Lifting my arm, I rest it on the side of the couch and lean my face into my palm. It’s getting late and I’m starting to feel tired
“Well,” Archer shifts on the couch, pulling one leg up under the other. “Ross and his buddies decided to start a band, and they were practicing here in the garage all the time. I always knew Ross was musically talented, but I was surprised at how talented his friends were. Together they sounded great. So, one day I encouraged them to make a video of one of their original songs, and I offered to produce it. Afterward, I uploaded it, expecting to maybe get a few hits, but it went viral. It was that video that ended up making them famous.”
“That’s amazing,” I breathe. You’re amazing, is what I want to say, but I don’t want to scare him off. “So, Mac is right. You are the reason they’re famous.”
Archer shakes his head. “No. I can’t take credit for that.” He’s humble. “I helped them. That’s all.”
“Is it weird having a popstar for a brother?”
“Yeah.” Archer smiles. “Especially because to me he’s just the same old Ross.”
The house is eerily quiet and dimly lit
“But I think the weirdest part,” Archer continues, “is how different everyone treats me now. I mean, I expect them to treat Ross differently, but not me.”
“I’m sure it’s weird that everyone thinks you’re him.”
“It’s not just that. Even the people who know I’m not him treat me differently. They try to use me to get close to him. People who never even gave me the time of day before suddenly want to be friends. It makes it hard to know who truly likes me for me, you know?”
“Yeah. I sort of had the same issue with my former best friend, Kate,” I say, and then feel silly. “I mean, she wasn’t famous or anything, but she was really popular. Fun.” My lips curl upward involuntarily. “Everyone liked her. And when I was with her, everyone liked me.” The smile dies. “But when she wasn’t around, I realized that it was Kate everyone liked, not me.”
“Why aren’t you two friends anymore?” he asks, and I instantly regret bringing her up.
Memories flood my mind, and I shake my head, attempting to will them way. “I…um…we…” My gaze bounces up to the clock on the wall. “Oh, man. I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“What’s going on? Got a hot date?”
“Yeah. A hot date at six a.m. with my running shoes and the open road.”
“You’re a runner?”
I nod.
“Are you in a running group or something?”
“No. I just run every morning at six.” I sound like a dork.
“That’s cool.” He stands. “Six a.m. will be here soon, so you better get some rest.”
Yep. He definitely thinks I’m a dork. Probably can’t wait to get me out of here.
The sound of the front door opening and slamming startle me. Archer’s eyes widen. My body stiffens. Are there more family members I don’t know about?
“Your long-lost brother is back!” Ross steps into the room, wearing a teasing grin and holding a large bag in one hand. As he dumps it onto the floor, Archer’s mouth drops open.
“Ross? I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
He shrugs. “We didn’t have any shows this weekend, so the guys and I decided to come home for a couple days.”
“But you just texted and didn’t say anything.” Archer’s brows are furrowed.
“I wanted to make sure you were home so I could surprise you.” He smiles, his gaze flickering over to me. “But I didn’t realize you had company.”
“I told you I was watching movies,” Archer says in a defensive tone.
“Yeah, so I figured Mac was here.” Ross laughs, stepping toward me. “Since my brother’s clearly forgotten his manners.” He thrusts his hand forward. “I’m Ross.”
Now I can see why girls are so attracted to him. “Kassidy,” I say.
“Ah. The new girl.” He throws his brother a wink. Archer appears ready to punch him.
“So, you’ve heard of me?” I raise my brows, my cheeks warming.
“Of course I have.” His charming smile broadens.
“Ross,” Archer grinds out, and Ross’s smile slips. “We don’t get many new girls at Oakhollow,” he says to me.
My heart dips a little. Is that all I am? A novelty? What will happen when I’m no longer the new girl?
Ross’s gaze lands on my T-shirt. “You like the Rocketlaunchers?”
I nod.
“I know the lead singer,” he says, plopping down on the recliner and swinging his legs out.
My inner fangirl screams. “Really? You’re friends with Bryan Ruiten? What’s he like?” I sit forward on the couch, propping my elbows up on my knees.
“Well.” He shifts in the chair. “I mean, we’re not really friends. We met once…at an awards show.”
“Still. That’s amazing. They’re my favorite group ever,” I gush. “Bryan’s an incredible singer.”
“Well, I mean, he’s all right. I happen to know someone who’s a little better,” Ross teases, and I can see the similarity between him and Archer.
Smiling, I glance over my shoulder. Archer sits up straight on the couch behind me, his lips in tight line, his eyes narrowed. My heart pinches.
When he notices me looking at him, he clears his throat. “Well, um…Kassidy was just about to leave. She has to get up early tomorrow to run.”
“You’re a runner?” Ross asks. “I am, too.”
“You are?” I turn to him.
“No, he’s not,” Archer interjects.
“Yeah, I am. I ran track in junior high,” he says, flashing a smug smile.
“But you don’t run anymore,” Archer presses, and I wonder why he’s being so weird about this.
“I do sometimes.” Ross leans back, pinning me with a stare. “Have you ever seen the Rocketlaunchers live?”
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “I wish.”
“I saw them last time they came to town.”
“I wanted to go so bad.”
“They’re coming back to this area soon. I bet I could get tickets.”
“Really?’ My pulse quickens. “That would be epic.”
“You can’t go to the concert, Ross. You’ll be out on tour,” Archer points out, and my excitement dwindles.
“I know, but she can take someone else,” Ross says, throwing a knowing look to Archer. “But it will have to be someone other than this guy. He doesn’t like the Rocketlaunchers.”
“You don’t?” I glance at Archer.
“He likes rap.” Ross frowns.
With a light laugh, I say, “I’ve heard.”
“Has he shown you his mad rap skills yet?” There is a teasing lilt to his voice.
“He has,” I respond.
“Then you know who has the musical talent in this family.” Ross waggles his eyebrows.
I feel like I’m treading in dangerous waters. It’s clear they’re both sarcastic and like to tease each other. But Archer’s seemed off since his brother walked in tonight. Swallowing hard, I force a smile and catch Archer’s eye. “I thought he was pretty good.”
Archer’s lips lift slightly, and my insides heat up.
Ross laughs. “And here I thought she had good taste in music.”
“She’s not a fan of the Playlisters, so she has that going for her,” Archer answers proudly.
“Wait,” Ross says. “I thought you met at my concert.”
“I was there with my sister,” I explain. “She’s a huge fan.” Thinking of Sophie, I giggle. “If she knew you were here, she’d be breaking into your house right about now.”
Ross shakes his head. “Maybe don’t tell her, then.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Archer stands, resting his hand on my shoulder. I freeze, my mouth drying out. “Want me to walk you out?”
It’s like a slap in the face. I guess I’ve worn out my welcome. Even Ross appears shocked, as squiggly lines paint his forehead.
“Okay,” I respond as cheerily as possible. “It was nice to meet you, Ross.”
“I’ll let you know about those tickets,” he says.
“Cool. Thanks.” I’m glad he remembered. I want the tickets, but I didn’t want to remind him.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Archer says when we reach his front door.
I nod, grateful he’s not going to simply shove me outside.
The air is crisp as it flutters over my skin, but Archer’s proximity warms me up. Our arms brush as we walk forward, and I shiver. I want to ask him about his change in behavior, but decide against it. We hardly know each other.
When we reach my car, I stop walking and pivot until our eyes meet. “Thanks for having me over.”
“I’m glad you came.” I search for hidden meaning in his words, then realize I’m being silly. Archer’s more relaxed out here, but our earlier connection has vanished.
“Me, too,” I answer politely, trying to figure out what went wrong.