Archer left me alone in the next few days.
It's not like I wanted it that way, but maybe it was best for both of us to take some time to clear our heads.
He didn't completely avoid me but he talked far less than before and honestly? I didn't feel good about it.
I thought I needed time away from him but it only made me miss him more.
I thought by keeping my distance, my feelings would eventually dim, and fade away. But no, nothing of that sort happened. They remained as strong and frustrating as ever.
One morning, I was in my Math lesson with Mr Montgomery. Archer shared this class with me and he was sitting diagonally in front of me. He looked straight ahead, a stony expression on his face, from what I could make out.
Mr Montgomery had a habit of digressing from the topic at hand and venturing into completely different areas. He quite literally would go off on a tangent (no pun intended) and start talking about the time he went to Thailand, or why meditation is good for our health, or how he has an irrational fear of moths.
Today's lesson was no different.
While teaching us differential equations, he started digressing again, and went into the topic of our career choices. He started asking some of us what we wanted to do after sixth form.
Soon, it was my turn.
"Miss Wentworth, what about you?" Mr Montgomery said (he was the only teacher to still address us as Mr or Miss), "What are you planning to do after sixth form ends?"
I perked up. "Sir, I want to be an artist--a painter. I'll study art, at hopefully Oxford or Cambridge, and then I want to be a professional full time artist."
Mr Montgomery frowned. "But why, Miss Wentworth? Why painting? You won't have a steady income with that kind of a profession. Those artsy types are never any good."
My forehead creased as I stared at him. I knew he tended to be a bit conservative, but I didn't know he was this narrow minded.
"Sir," I started, "With all due respect, I don't think they're any bad either. These artists create beautiful things everyday and I want to be one of them. I want to create paintings which make me hapoy, which leave a lasting impact on anyone who sees them. I don't want a boring dead-end job just to make some money. I want to do something real, something which I want for myself, something that's my dream."
Mr Montgomery's frown deepened. "Well, Miss Wentworth, I would normally encourage everyone to follow their dreams, but I expected you to have more...concrete ones. Not things like art which should be more of a hobby than a profession."
What. The. Hell. What the bloody hell.
Before I could open my mouth in indignation, Archer beat me to it. He raised his hand and when Mr Montgomery saw him, he started speaking.
"Sir, personally I feel we should let each and every person chase their dreams no matter what they are. No dream is bigger or smaller than the rest. No dream is unimportant or irrelevant. And I think if Vivian wants to paint, then we should encourage her to paint instead of forcing her into a job she doesn't want and cutting off all her creativity and opportunity. We all have different talents and different wishes, and we all deserve a chance to fulfil them. Vivian shouldn't be any exception."
He said this with the all the seriousness and gravity of a mature, well brought up and developed person.
I stared at him in wonder, as did the rest of the class.
Why did he suddenly choose to defend me?! Why is he being so understanding when I'm trying so hard to forget my feelings!
He continued facing our teacher, not looking back once at me. Mr Montgomery stared at him slack-jawed for a few seconds before regaining his composure.
"Well, Mr Woods, let's see what happens, right? We never know what's in store for us in future. Now sit down."
What a narrow minded know-it-all.
The rest of the class proceeded normally after the little incident, but after class I couldn't help but run up to Archer.
"Hey, Archer!" I approached him as he was talking to Joe, one of his many friends.
He looked at me, whispered something to Joe, who then gave me a quick smile and ran off.
"Um...thank you for standing up for me back there. You didn't have to...why did you do it anyway?"
He looked at me for some time before shrugging. "I just felt what he was saying was grossly wrong, that's all. Nothing--nothing else."
I raised my eyebrows. Nothing else? Did he expect me to believe that?
Nonetheless, I still nodded. "Well, thanks anyway. I'll um, I'll see you in the study."
He nodded. Having nothing else to say, I turned and walked away.
°
That evening, in the study, the air felt hot and awkward.
Archer and I were, as usual, sitting side by side, but neither of us was making any attempt to break the silence. We worked with an awkward, uneasy tension which I didn't like in the slightest.
After an hour, my mind started to wander. I kept on thinking about how our journey had started and how far we'd come from the beginning of this year. I didn't know if anything had improved between us, but things had certainly changed.
Suddenly, I remembered something.
"Archer!" I exclaimed so loudly with realisation that even he jumped, his pen sliding across the paper in the process.
"Good lord, Vivian, do you want to give me a heart attack? What is it?"
I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. It's just... we completely forgot about the bet! About who could rile up the other person more!"
His eyes widened too. "Shite. Yeah, I think we've had enough of the bet. Now let's compare the results."
I thought for a while, then nodded. He was right, it's not like we riled each other up on purpose anymore, just for the fun of it. Things had changed drastically over the past few months.
We both brought out our notebooks where we were keeping score with tally marks.
To my utter dismay, Archer had won by only two tally marks. I had two more than him, which means he'd managed to make me lose my temper twice more, thus winning the bet.
He grinned with evil satisfaction. "What were the terms again? I can ask you to do anything and you have to do it right?"
I looked away in misery. This has been so stupid. Why had we done this bet in the first place? Then I hadn't realised, but now I knew, that him having the power to ask me to do anything would surely have its consequences.
Consequences I was too afraid to imagine.
He thought for a while. "I'm not going to ask you to do anything now, I'll take my chance later. Don't worry." He shot me a wink filled with mischief, and a promise of something to come.
It made me heartbeat unnaturally accelerate.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Don't you dare do anything you'll regret later."
My words came out as half-joking, but I was serious, and I knew he could understand the edge to my words. He knew I was trying to make him understand he shouldn't go into that territory just yet.
He merely smiled. "We'll see."
We returned to our work after that, but that wasn't the end to our conversation, apparently. After another half an hour, Archer spoke up.
"Oh, right, listen," he turned towards me, "I completely forgot to ask you earlier, but the thing is, my mum's birthday passed when she was still in a coma. That's why we couldn't celebrate, but now that she's finally come home two days ago, Dad and I are planning to host a belated birthday party for her. It'll just be a small gathering of our close family and friends, and some people from the sporting world. Would you like to come? It's next Saturday evening, at the Ritz. It would be great if you and your parents came, my mum would be delighted."
I didn't have to think twice to say yes. "Of course," I smiled, "I'd love to come. I'll ask my parents if they'll be free, but they most likely will, so you can count them in too."
He grinned. "Great. Then I can tell dad you guys are coming."
"Sure, go ahead."
We smiled at each other for a brief moment before going back to our work. But that one moment, however tiny it'd been, made me happy.
a/n: I've planned out so much that i can't wait to write down and share ahhhh. but in the meantime, hope you liked this chapter. now, we're starting to see how arch is gradually winning back viv's trust by supporting her and standing up for her beliefs. will she let him in now? only time and my sleep-deprived mind will tell.