Half of My Heart ✔️

27 | thicker than water

A knock on my door pulls me out of my death-like sleep. I snake my way out of my burrow of blankets and walk to the door, already cursing whoever is forcing me to physically exert myself when I should be getting the little sleep that I can.

"Good, you're alive," Archer says the second I open the door. He looks anything but happy to see me. "You look like absolute shit, though."

We stare at each other for a few seconds as I revel in the shock of seeing him for the first time since he dropped me off after Thanksgiving. He says, "Okay, Mom told me to check on you, so now that I have . . . bye," then turns to leave.

My emotional ass can't help it; I start to tear as I watch him leave down the hallway. Archer immediately turns his head around, sees me crying, and walks back over to my door. "Scar, please don't do that. Stop, please," he pleads desperately. I try to stop my tears, but it feels like I'm choking on them, so I keep sobbing.

No one has ever told me that I'm a pretty crier, so I can imagine that the sight of me is quite grotesque. And horribly pathetic.

Before I know it, Archer is hugging me and walking us into my room so my mental breakdown isn't on full display for everyone in my dorm building. "I ruined everything," I say between sobs. "I'm sorry, Archie. I'm so sorry for everything I did. I fucked everything up."

He sits next to me on my bed and I sob into his shoulder. His arm is around me and he rubs my arm, trying to calm me down. "Well, it's not like you ruined my friendship with my best friend just because you couldn't keep it in your pants," he says.

I start sobbing even uncontrollably. I can feel him laughing, and I wonder what dark depths of hell older brothers were conjured from.

"I'm kidding," he says, patting my back. "Well, not really, but you didn't fuck everything up. You fucked a lot of shit up. But . . ."

His voice trails off, and I don't fault him for not knowing what to say. There is nothing good to say about what I did.

"I thought you'd never talk to me again," I say once my emotions cool down. I sit up straight, wiping off my face and noticing the large tear stains on his shoulder. "The possibility of you hating me was probably the most terrifying part of this whole thing," I say honestly.

"You have a snot bubble right there," Archer says, pointing at my left nostril. I can't help but laugh a little bit before getting a tissue to blow my nose in. Archer smiles as he watches me pop the disgusting snot bubble.

Then we're serious again. He looks down, and I remember that I'm wearing Jack's hoodie—the one he gave me at the party. Putting it on made me feel better, and I didn't expect Archer to drop by.

I see his mind working, taking in the details. "It was you at the party, wasn't it? You walked right by me, and I didn't even realize it was you." He rubs his face with both hands.

Archer leans back against my wall. "You guys made me feel like a fucking idiot," he explains. "I didn't suspect anything between you and Jack. Then I literally told everyone that you and Levi . . . you know."

"I know," I say, not even trying to defend myself. There's no way for me to defend my actions, but I also can't think of a better way that I could've handled everything at the time. "It all just happened so fast. It spun out of control."

"That's for sure," Archer scoffs. "I'm still mad and processing everything. But I've been thinking. Talking with Dad and shit. And I don't blame you for what you did. I probably would've freaked out just as badly if you'd told me weeks earlier."

I laugh. "I guess it's better than you blew up at home than on campus. If you'd pulled that shit in the athletes' dorm, you probably would've been suspended from the team."