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Rae doesn't dwell on her first encounters with Archie.
She never rereads her diary entries from back then. The time they spend together, pretending (well, from his side at least), is non-existent in her mind.
Until today.
Tomorrow they are to face their enemies. Rae versus Amy. Archie versus his beard/ex-girlfriend.
Despite Archie’s justified fears and Rae practically salivating for forgiveness (because if she doesn't have Archie, she doesn't have anyone. And he’s the easiest one to have.), Rae still thinks it’s his own damn fault.
For the first time in months, she’d had the memory of Archie stomping on her heart shoved in her face -- in the form of Lois. It echoed deep within her, in an empty place in her heart which he’d scooped out when he had stood her up. When she had found out that he was gay, and that she, for all matters and purposes, had been an experimentation, it didn’t heal the damage caused at all. In fact, that empty hole had just been filled with cement, and over time hardened into concrete until only lingering bitterness remained.
And now the hurt, the sense of worthlessness, slowly ebbed into her conscious. Archie had shown his true colours again. He’d shown how much of a shit person he could be when he actually tried.
She wanted to grab that night lamp and smash him over the head with it.
But the expression on his face stopped her (and their friendship too, she supposed).
Archie was staring at the ceiling, his face set in stone, all hard lines and edges. The light from the lamp slash potential weapon illuminated his jaw and cheekbones, and Rae had to bite back a sound of awe. She was angry with him, no need to flatter him, even if he was oblivious to it. He was just so distracting sometimes. It was easy to forget how attractive he was when you knew he wasn't, and would never, be attracted to you.
“I know what you’re thinking, Rae,” he stated neutrally. Rae frowned. Did he somehow have an inkling that she had the urge to seriously injure him?
She stopped trying to look at him from her peripheral vision and decided to just roll on her side, and stare at his profile. He threw her a brief glance, brief enough that she couldn't tell the nature of it. “You hate me for what I did to Lois.”
Of course you dickhead! Of course! Was it not terribly obvious?
He turned on his side as well, fully facing her. His eyes contained a deep sadness that stopped Rae in her tracks. All of her venomous thoughts dissipated at once. She looked down, thrown by his intensity, unable to meet his eyes and could only mutter: “Oi, it’s what you did to me.”
Archie fixed her with his steely gaze, made even more pronounced through his glasses. “It wasn't because of you, you know that,” he said, his voice almost stern. “I was confused.”
That was it. The last straw on the camel's back. Rae huffed angrily and sat up from her sleeping position. Archie flinched. “ What the fuck? Do you get ‘confused’ every once a moon? Make up your god damn mind and stop being such an utter cunt, Archie! She likes you! She likes you like I liked you. You hurt her like you hurt me. I know I apologised, but I'm still not okay with you using another girl as your beard.”
She breathed out harshly at the end of her tirade, fists clenched by her side as she full-on glared at her bespectacled mate gaping at her like a fish out of water. Yeah, she mentally scoffed. Out of the bullshit water.
“Close your fucking mouth, Archie,” she ordered, her words spiteful but her tone resigned. Archie did as he was told, sheepishly.
It was silent for a minute, the only sound coming from the whooshing of the cars on the streets. Rae’s glare had softened into a disappointed gaze, and Archie was still wordlessly staring at her. Neither knew what to say.
Surprisingly, it was Archie who broke the silence. He raised his hands to his face, and Rae swore she heard a sob. Was he crying? “I’m so sorry Rae, god, I am an utter cunt. I just … bricked it. I am terrified of college. I am terrified of people judging me, looking at me as the fag, the gayer …” Lowering his hands, he gave her a meaningful look (his face tear-streaked like she’d suspected), which Rae quickly ducked. No way was he going to drag her issues into this. It was his turn for the gallows.
He got the message, and continued. “I am a shit person Rae. And not because I’m gay, but because of the stuff I do against it. Trying to fit in, insulting you, leading someone on … And you’re right, this is you and me all over again.”
Rae had agreed whole-heartedly with the speech, nodding with vigour, up until his last sentence. She looked at him incredulously. “Wait what? No, don’t compare her to me!”
“But it’s accurate, though.”
“No! You hurt her more. She’s out for your blood, Archie. And I am, I am …”
“So were you back then. You still hate me for being such a git and so does she and I-I-I” Another sob wrecked through his body, and Rae could feel the vibrations through the walls. He was unable to continue, sounding utterly miserable, and Rae could see another self-pitying diatribe on the horizons.
Before he could resume she held her hand up and shot him a stern look, effectively shushing him. Self-pity was what got him in this mess in the first place. “For god’s sake Archie, stop hating yourself! You don't need this now, all right?”
She then glanced at her finger nails, biting her lip thoughtfully. “And to be honest, I don’t hate you, not anymore. It's just - I guess I never really got over it, so this hit me pretty hard. What you did to me was easy to ignore afterwards as we became friends and I got to know you better. But it festered.”
Rae looked at Archie then, tentatively, cringing when she clocked the puzzlement on his face. He returned her gaze with confusion. She’d hoped he’d understand the first time she told him. “Festered?”
There was a micro silence at this, as Rae mulled over on the best way to explain the thoughts she’d been suppressing from day one of their friendship. “I was still bitter,” she said finally, decisively, as if it was a fact that she’d only just found out herself. Maybe it was. “It was as if stuff like this only happened to me, you know? The guy I first liked ended up gay and using me as an experiment. That blows. I mean, I can’t imagine girls like Chloe or Izzy going through shit like that. You singled me out.”
“Rae. Definitely not. That’s not--”
“Archie. Stick it up your arse, all right? Hear me out. Why did you choose me? Why me?” Why why why.
Archie seemed incredulous, his mouth curled up in disgust, as if she dared to imply what they were both thinking. Nevertheless, he didn't answer.
Fucking typical, she scorned. An image of her standing in the street with a crocodile clutched to her chest for a semblance of modesty while Archie watched on, the pity in his eyes not quite making it out his mouth, flashed in her mind. He'd understood the situation, saw her embarrassment yet acted dumb as she was taunted and jeered at. They both might be cowards, but Archie was a different subcategory altogether. He was the parasitical kind: his cowardice extended to others (to her), and had the potential to ruin people.
With deep, controlled breaths she repeated her question: “Why me, Archie? If you haven’t noticed, you’re one of the fittest lads in Lincolnshire. You could've second-guessed your sexuality with half of the birds here. Hell, you could've tried it on with Chloe. So why choose the fat, ugly lass eh? Don't act so indignant, I know why. You knew you would eventually hurt them so you wanted to spare their feelings. But not mine. Because I'm so fat, and mad, and ugly, that I don’t get that consideration. I should just be happy with what you gave me – a pity date.”
This was her second outburst that night, and even though her sleepiness was taking its toll on her, this one was her most passionate yet. It seemed to have its desirable effect on Archie, who was now slack-jawed and openly staring at her, utterly dumbfounded. His hands twitched, like they were about to reach over the bed towards her as if to hold her, but stayed limply against his sides. She didn't mind. It would be an empty gesture anyway.
At his painful silence, she swallowed the sob in her throat threatening to come out, and tried to backtrack. “I didn’t mea—”
“Shut up, Rae,” he said wearily, rubbing the side of his face. “Just don’t.” He didn't seem to have the strength to look at her, turning his eyes to the ceiling instead. Rae would've been offended, if it was not for the lack of malice in his tone. Rae followed his gaze, and made a face at the wooden beams. She never liked Archie’s home interior – it reminded her too much of a creepy cottage in the woods. It was so pretentious, too -- perfect for Archie.
She felt his cool hand on top of hers. Instinctively, she flinched, and tried to jerk away but suddenly her fingers were locked with his and she forgot how to breathe. It was a very platonic gesture – well, platonic for them – but Rae couldn't get over how intimate this felt.
Ignoring the nervous flutters in her belly, she twitched her fingers experimentally, checking how malleable Archie’s hand was only for him to tighten his hold on hers. He took a deep breath, and squeezed her hand again. They must look ridiculous: Archie’s arm bent at an awkward angle to reach over the bed, Rae clasping his hand to meet him halfway. Their arms were hanging in the air slightly uncomfortably, but Rae was willing to look over that fact.
She patiently waited, hoping that he had a good response for her epic ‘wake-up-and-smell-the-flowers-cunt’ speech. She wasn't dissapointed.
“Rae,” he started, his tone full of regret and dare she say, wistfulness? “I’m sorry that I made you think that.” But she detected no guilt.
Suddenly his eyes were on hers, and she had to stop herself from squeezing his hand at the fiery look in them. “I wish I could scoop out those thoughts from your brain just like I scooped out part of your heart. I should have been clearer that day, Rae, because nothing of what you just said has ever been accurate.”
Rae snorted, ignoring the stutter of her heart when he’d used her metaphor. “Sure, explains the quick reply. But I must say that you have one hell of a silver tongue. Not much of a boring fucker anymore, are ya Archie?”
“You got me surprised, all right? And I’m not bullshitting you, Rae, I promise.” He sighed, looking down at their conjoined hands briefly. “Listen, I know I like blokes. I only feel attracted to them. Never felt anything for a girl. Then you came.”
He allowed a brief silence for her to ask questions. She shook her head, willing him to continue. “I'm not going to say that I felt proper attracted to you – don’t give me that look, Rae – but I felt something. For the first time ever, I’d looked at a girl and went ‘I wonder who she is’. I felt curious for a lass. And for me, that’s hell of an achievement.”
“But whatever it was, it didn't make me straight. You’re top, Rae, and how I despaired to like you like that, to love you even. Even though you and Finn are perfect for each other; you were my type. I liked your company, I liked how you look, I liked your attitude, and I still do by the way. I checked everything off the list, thought that was enough to maintain a relationship. But there was no passion in me, not the one you deserve at least. Because you deserve more, Rae. Maybe I treated you like a beard, maybe not. But let it not be said that I never felt anything for you.”
Archie stared at her wordlessly, burning a hole in the side of her face. Rae had turned away, unable to look at him. Wide-eyed, she tried to think of a distraction, any kind and sought out the stars out the window, wishing to escape into space but Archie’s hold on her hand grounded her to Earth.
“Look at me, Rae,” he whispered, resigned. She complied. “I'm so sorry I broke your heart. I’m so sorry that I was your first love. But know that in another life, you would've been mine. Just not in this one.”
Rae shook her head. She felt like correcting him. Actually Archie, Finn was my first love and not you. Never you. But she wasn't so sure anymore. And Archie’s confession, paired with his raw honesty, had knocked the fight right out of her.
Somewhere, deep within the confines of her brittle heart, Rae felt blood rushing into a place it hadn't gone for a while.
She allowed herself a smile, squeezing his hand. “And thank god for that.”