Rule #13: Antisocial Media
Rebels don't brag about what they do. #thuglife
- () -
"I want to take pictures of you," Archer tells me one evening, when we've finished taking his horse, Brutus, out for a run. He offers his hand to me and I take it, using to push myself off the saddle and onto the sand.
"You already have," I point out, leading Brutus back to the stables.
"Not silhouettes or drawings. I want to take actual pictures of you, of us," Archer leans against the stable door, blocking the sun so that the rays tint his hair gold. "And I promise nobody's going to the see the photos besides me - and maybe Instagram.
I take a minute to respond, focusing on removing all the materials from Buster. I refill his dinner, then turn back to face Archer. He's watching me quietly, having not moved from his previous position.
"No pictures," I shake my head and walk outside.
"I could make it a rule," He suggests, following me.
"Then I'll veto it."
Just as I'm about to turn towards my house, Archer sets his hands on either side of my waist and twists me around so I'm facing me. He doesn't say anything so I know that it's my turn to speak.
"I'm not comfortable with having photos taken of me," I remind him. "It's not you - it's just the whole idea in general. Can't you just draw me?"
"I could," He agrees. "But that's time consuming and I don't have a lot of time right now, especially with all the exams coming up. It's not that I want huge artistic shots of you Peyton. I want little pictures of us, every day, like memories."
It's sweet when he puts it that way.
"I'll think about it," I say.
He looks at me quietly.
"Promise."
Archer releases me and puts his hands into his pockets. There are circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep he's getting lately. I let him nap in my room after school, but clearly that's not enough. I want to find some way to comfort him, but I don't really know how.
"You should keep your Friday night open," I finally blurt out. The last lights of the sunset blink out, leaving the sky a hazy dark blue. "I have our first date planned - food and everything."
"I thought this was our first date."
"You're wrong. Today was just - um - don't wear anything too fancy, okay? I'm going to take you on a picnic?"
"A picnic?" Archer raises an eyebrow.
"That's what I said."
"Will there be veggie sandwiches?"
I roll my eyes. "Sure, if you want them."
"Well," Archer leans forward and pecks me on the forehead. "Then, it's a date."
- () -
I bring the topic of photos up with Dr. Robinson's therapy section. I don't know how many sessions I have left with her so I'm trying to fit in as much information as I can. I guess I must be babbling because she gives me a cup of herbal tea to relax.
"Why do you think you feel so uncomfortable taking pictures?" Dr. Robinson says, finishing her own cup of tea. She sets it down on the desk.
"I don't really know," I tip my own cup from side to side, watching the tea sway back and forth. "I thought it had to do something with Xavier and the pictures, but that doesn't make sense. Still, I can't help -"
I suck in a deep breath. My hands are trembling, causing the cup to shake and tiny waves to form within the tea.
"Can't help what?" Dr. Robinson urges.
"I just can't help comparing Xavier and Archer," I blurt out. "Irene told me that they're really similar and at first, I didn't see it, but now I do. They're handsome, funny and popular. They're both on the swim team. Both of them wanted to be friends with me before I wanted to be friends with them."
Neither of us say anything for a moment.
I try to come up with some words to justify myself. "But that doesn't mean they're the same person. Archer's different from Xavier in all the ways that count."
"Such as?"
"Archer's popular because he's nice to everybody. Xavier's popular because he's better - he thinks he's better than everybody."
"I see."
"Archer's great. I like him a lot," My face feels a little hot, as it always does when I bring up our relationship in these conversations. "But I feel so uncomfortable having him take pictures of me, which is stupid, right? It's not like Xavier took pictures of me. I sent them to him."
Dr. Robinson doesn't respond so I guess she's processing my words. Meanwhile, I take another sip of my tea. It's not as warm as it was before, and extremely sugary. Grimacing, I set it down on the saucer again.
"If Xavier took nudes of you," Dr. Robinson finally says. "Instead of you sending the nudes to him, would you consider this situation to be different?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Well, if Xavier took the nudes, it's his fault that my reputation got drained, but that wasn't the case," My hands are shaking so badly that the tea sloshes near the edge of the cup. "I sent him the nudes, even though he didn't even pressure me or anything."
"I see. So do you consider your damaged reputation as your fault and not Xavier's?"
"I mean - yeah," I admit. "Isn't it? I mean, I was the one who sent the nudes. I knew it was a stupid idea, but I did it anyways. So, in a way, I kind of deserved - shit."
I tip the cup too far and the tea slips over the rim and falls onto my pants. It isn't hot, but it does leave a dark smear on my jeans, staining the fabric within seconds. I stand up and set the teacup on the desk, muttering a hurried apology.
"It's fine. Sit down," Dr. Robinson hands me a few napkins. "Peyton, with your permission, may I suggest a possible cause of why you feel this way?"
I dab at the tea stains. "Sure."
"When you sent your nudes to Xavier, you put a certain amount of trust in him," She informs me, crossing her legs. "And Xavier took advantage of that trust by spreading the pictures. Now, Archer's asking that you trust him to take proper pictures of you and share it with the right people."
I open my mouth, but she interrupts me.
"In this case, I suggest that it isn't the pictures that you're scared of, but the position of becoming vulnerable once again."
"So what should I do?"
"Let me ask you this: if Archer texted you one day, asking for nudes, would you give it to him?"
"Archer wouldn't ask me for nudes," I respond immediately. "But no, I wouldn't."
Dr. Robinson doesn't anything. She just raises an eyebrow, as if to say you see?
- () -
The next day in gym, we do trust exercises. Apparently, one person has to lead his or her partner (who's wearing a blindfold) through an obstacle course. I've never heard of trust excerises but Coach Watson says that it builds teamwork. I have a funny feeling that Archer requested this because he corners me as soon as Coach Watson tells us to pick partners.
"You get into the blindfold first," Archer says and pulls the bandanna around my eyes before I can respond. He snags on a few strands of my hair, causing me to wince, and ties a secure knot behind my head. "Perfect. Are you ready?"
"I don't know where we are."
"You don't need to know. I got you covered," Archer twines his fingers through mine and leads me outside, to the field where the obstacle course lies. "You know, I read in a magazine that this is a great way to test relationship stability."
"I knew it. So this was your idea all - ah!" My sneaker gets caught onto something and I crash into Archer's back, clutching onto his sleeves. He catches the both of us before we hit the ground.
"There's a ledge right there."
"Yeah," I grumble, straightening. "I got that."
Because Archer's clearly incapable of telling me the way, I use my other hand to make sure that I'm not going to run into anything. I trip three more times on our way to the field, yet somehow Archer manages to reach the obstacle course without killing me.
"The first obstacle is a series of tunnels so you to crawl through," Archer explains. He takes one of my hands and places it on the top of the tunnel. "Go down and I'll lead you through it."
I crouch down and make my way through what seems like a bunch of cardboard boxes taped together to make tunnels. Archer tells me when to change directions. I hear him a second too late and always end up crashing into something.
"Okay, you'll be outside in a few seconds so stand up -"
"Ouch!" I hit my head on cardboard.
"Peyton, you have a concussion," Archer scolds, helping me up. "Be careful."
"I hate tunnels," I say. "Whatever, at least it's over with. What next?
"Balance beams."
I groan.
"You'll do fine," Archer leads me a few steps away and helps me onto a balance beam. It's higher than I expected it to be. He actually has to lift me a couple feet in the air for me to be able to stand on it "Okay, you're facing the right direction so just take a couple of steps."
I inch a little bit forwards. The balance beam is actually kind of scary. I have no idea where to put my foot so that I don't end up face-planting the ground.
"Let me know if I'm going to fall," I tell Archer, stretching my arms out wide.
"You're going to have to take a step first, cub."
I raise my foot, gently nudge it forwards, but feel nothing but thin air. I take a deep breath and take a step forwards, then nearly have a heart attack as I almost lose my balance.
"I can't do this," I decide after I get my balance back. "I'm going to give myself a bigger concussion than I already have."
"Are you sure -"
"Just help me down please," I bend down and blindly reach for Archer.
"Okay, I'm coming," He lifts me off the balance beam and rests me back on the ground. As I let out a sigh of relief, he says. "You're cute when you're afraid."
"This obstacle course is stupid."
Archer kisses me on the forehead, making me jump. "We have one more obstacle left."
The last obstacle is a series of loops and hurdles. I nearly knock all of them down in my hurry to finish, cursing as each one hits me on the shoulder or knee. When I finish, I stumble into Archer's arms and he finally unties my blindfold. I blink in the fresh sunlight, never so happy to see the Florida landscape.
"Well, that wasn't as big of a success as I thought it would be," Archer says after I finish doing a couple of freedom jogs around the track. "Then again, Kya and I didn't that good either. Do you think this means -"
"No."
"But -"
"Look, our relationship is going to be fine. If you want me to prove it you, here's a new rule - you can take pictures of me and even post them on Instagram if you want, as long as you ask permission first."
"What? Seriously?"
"Seriously."
Archer's face breaks into a grin, which warms my heart in a stupid, sweet way.
"Don't look at me like that," I say. "Blame Dr. Robinson. She convinced me."
"Dr. Robinson again? I have to send her a gift card soon."
"Yeah, whatever."
- () -
That evening is our date so I spend a couple of hours planning our dinner. I make our sandwiches, grab fruity drinks, and a basket with all the tools we need for tonight. Mom comes into the kitchen to ask what I'm doing but I wave her away, telling it's for a school project. When she walks back upstairs, I sneak out of the house and greet Archer at his porch.
In the moonlight, he looks almost angelic. I almost stumble when I first spot him, in his white button-down shirt and faded jeans, but catch myself just in time.
"A dress, just for me?" Archer smiles when he sees my sundress, which is dyed black and reaches my knees. "I'm honored."
"I wear dresses all the time."
"Not of your own violation."
"Yeah, well..." I trail off, unsure of what to say and look down at my dress and picnic basket, both which sway in the wind.
Archer just laughs and pulls me to the side. He trails a finger around the edge of my dress, where the fabric meets my skin. The action sends shivers up my thigh and I'm so distracted that I barely notice that Archer's leading us to his car until he opens the door.
"Wait," I shut the door and lean back on it. "We don't need your car today. The place we're going to is nearby."
The idea of our date excites me again. So, as Archer arches an eyebrow, I grab his wrist and tug him to the other side of the street.
"Where are we going?" Archer asks.
"To see the turtles."
"What?"
I drag Archer across the neighborhood, to the other side of the coast, where a second patch of beach houses lie. A couple of days ago, I contacted one of the old ladies, Mrs. Henry that lives at the end of the road and she agreed to let us spend a couple of hours in her backyard to see the turtle eggs hatch.
I knock at the gate to alert Mrs. Henry that we're here. A security camera, put up by the neighborhood because of the recent burglaries, blinks its red light at us. One buzz later, the gate swings open to let us through.
"The turtle eggs are hatching today," I breathe, tugging him to the nests. "I thought we could watch them and have a picnic."
"Turtle eggs?" Archer repeats. "Here?"
"Obviously," I drop my picnic basket on a nearby ledge and search for the flashlight. "We have to be quiet so we don't scare them. Maybe we can scare some of the predators away."
"And disrupt the food chain?"
"Shut up," I find my flashlight and click it on. Then, I direct the white beam in general location of the turtle nests, until I spot one of the babies. "There! Do you see?"
"Only you would incorporate animals into our first date."
"Archer," I tug on his sleeve. "Look."
Little turtles, no bigger than the size of my hand, creep out of the eggs. We step around the cracked shells to get a better a view. I follow some of them with the beam of my flashlight as they make way towards the sound of the waves. The night is warm and the breeze is cool, creating a perfect atmosphere.
"I've always wanted to see turtles hatch," I breathe. "It's been on my bucket list for years so I thought it would make for a perfect date."
"This is actually kind of cool," Archer admits.
"See? I told you."
"The turtles are cute."
"Yeah."
"Like you."
"No."
Archer snickers, then bends down and picks one up. "Look how tiny this one is."
"Archer stop," I hiss. Of course he does something like this on our first date. The little turtle scrambles in midair, spending his first moments of his life in a state of panic. "Put it down. You're going to confuse it."
"Let's keep it as a pet."
"No way. You have enough pets."
"He could eat your fish."
"I'll feed you to my fish."
Archer grins and sets the the turtle back onto the sand, near to the ocean. At first, the turtle wanders around confusedly, but it soon finds its way and disappears into the waves. His brothers and sisters follow him, until the only life left on the beach is us.
"Are you crying?"
"No," I discreetly wipe away my tears.
"This makes a great background," Archer says and bring his cellphone out of his pocket. "Why don't you stand next the ocean and I can take some pictures of you?"
I allow myself one second to hesitate, then I walk over to the coastline. The waves crash onto the shore, spraying foam and cold water to my feet. I turn around. Archer already has his phone ready to go. I try not to grimace as he flashes a few photos of me.
"Try smiling," Archer offers and snaps a few more photos. Then, he lowers his camera and scrutinizes me. His expression is oddly intense, like the way he acts when's focused on drawing or painting, just focused on me instead of a canvas. "This isn't working. You pose looks too forced."
"You told me to smile."
"That's not how you naturally smile. That's your fake smile. You smile naturally when..." Archer pauses, thinks. "Hang on, let me try something."
I eye Archer suspiciously as he comes near me. Archer bends down to my height. I lean in, thinking that he's going to kiss me, but instead of letting our lips meet, Archer swoops down and kisses my neck. And then, in an area even lower, he bites me.
"Ouch," Flushing, I lean away. "Archer!"
His phone flashes.
Archer looks at the screen, hiding a smile. "Much better."
"How?" I rub the area where he bit me, relived to find that he didn't leave any marks. "I wasn't even smiling."
"Maybe. But I think I might like this expression better on you," Archer presses a few buttons on his camera, humming under his breath. "Can I post this on my social media?"
"Yeah," I sigh. "But make sure Melody doesn't see it."
"Don't worry, she won't. Melody blocked me because I kept commenting on her posts too much."
I roll my eyes.
After Archer's finished, we sit down on the picnic blanket and eat dinner. Archer shows me the rest of he pictures he's taken of me. I think they came out well, but Archer says that my expression needs to be more relaxed and that I'd look better in a swimsuit - and the expression on his face tells me that he's absolutely serious.
"What do you think?" Archer asks. "Could you do another photo session soon?"
Before I can answer, my phone rings. It's from Peter. I remind myself to thank him later on.
"Can I take this?" I ask Archer.
Archer rolls his eyes and nods, but he's smiling. He takes another bite of his sandwich as I stand up, walk a few feet away, and answer the phone.
"Hello?
"You'll never believe what just happened."
"What?"
"They found Harper."
"That's great!" I breathe. A giant weight lifts off my shoulders. "How's he doing?"
"Well," Peter hesitates and the giant weight begins to sink back down again. "He's not exactly in the best condition. I don't want to ruin your evening so I won't say anything else. But I think you should come see him before he goes."
"What do you mean? Goes where?"
"I - you'll just have to see. I just wanted to let you know in advance. Can you come in on Monday?"
"Yeah. What's the problem, Peter? Did something happen to Harper?"
"Just come in on Monday."
And he hangs up.
- () -
Conflict? In MY story? Happens more often than you think.
"..."
(0,0)
/)....)
""
Apologies for the late update! I just don't want this story to end lol. Thanks to all those who waited. Dedication goes to ahotmess5555, curlyhair___girl, meekhannah123, restless-nightfall, elicpsa899, DontMakeMeAMurderer, karnikasehgal, IIIYvetteIII, and outofitall.
Thanks for reading!
QotC: If I made an Instagram (not related to me), what would you want in it in order to follow it? (Self help tips, landscape photos, tumblr posts, etc.)