18..

638 24 7
                                    

I sipped from my eggnog as I watched my dad are Archie bake cookies together. It was actually funny to watch. My dad had never been particularly gifted in the kitchen, so it was more like he was helping Archie as they placed little balls of pre-made dough on the sheet. I glanced out the window at Connie and Bucky’s house, lit up with Christmas lights that Bucky and I put up only a couple days ago. I wondered if they had any family over, though Bucky never really talked about anyone else except Connie family wise. Maybe he had some work friends over.

I just hope Connie wasn’t working. It’s Christmas Eve, she should be spending it with friends and family.

“A longing gaze at the house across the street,” Dad assessed. “Someone important must live over there.”

I shrugged and turned to face him, “Just some friends.”

“That’s Bucky and Connie’s house,” Archie said. I glared at him for being unable to keep his big mouth shut.

“Bucky and Connie?”

“Some friends,” I repeated.

He raised an eyebrow, “Who’s Connie?”

“She’s pretty,” Archie answered. I smiled at him, glad he warmed up to Connie a little in the past week. She’d only been over here one other time since the morning after the Robert Flander event and actually had a tiny conversation with Archie while she was here. Of course it was mainly from Bucky dragging her in it, but that’s better than nothing. She still looked at Archie kind of strange though, like he amazed her or something, but it didn’t stop her from smiling at him or adding little comments in his and Bucky’s conversation.

As for me and Connie, we were the same, I guess. Not that we were a we.

“She’s pretty, huh?” Archie nodded. “Does she come over a lot?”

“No.”

“Do you want her to?”

“Dad,” I interrupted. “Stop.” He put his hands up defensively and I just rolled my eyes. They went on making their cookie before throwing them in the oven. “Archie, did you show grandpa your stupid big wheel?”

He lit up and started tugging Dad towards the living room, “I got a big wheel.” He told him. “Look, it’s right there.”

“Wow,” I heard Dad say as they walked away.

I still hated that thing. I wanted to light it on fire, honestly, but I refrained. Archie, being a three year old obsessed with material possessions, was far too attached to the stupid thing. He rode it around every goddamn day, scratching up my floors and claim to be giving his dinosaurs a ride from the living room to the kitchen table. Oh, I wanted that thing gone.

But, I came up with an even better plan to wean his attachment from it. I returned the one I’d already bought and used that money to get something even better. The Mystery Box Sender thinks they were winning him over with their stupid big wheel, but fuck them. I’m going to win this. And once he goes ape shit over the better thing I bought, that big wheel is getting drop kicked in the goodwill box.

I snickered to myself. Maybe I’m being melodramatic, but that big wheel really rubbed me wrong way, everything about it. From the way it got here, the way no one stayed to see if Archie got it, the way it squeaks when he rides it, the way it was bright fucking yellow, the way looking at it just put a bad taste in my mouth. I hated it. God, I hated it.

With a sigh I stood up from my place at the kitchen table and walked into the living room. “Alright Archie, time for bed. I let you stay up late.”

My Buddy Archie [1]Where stories live. Discover now