Unintended Consequences

Chapter 12 - Archer's POV

    I walked into my room to see Charlotte back on my bed. She had paused our movie and was staring at her hands with a thoughtful expression.

    "Hey, are you okay?" I asked.

    "Oh uh yeah. Madeline was just so... worried about me. I don't know it's stupid. Anyways, want to keep watching?"

    "Actually... I have some bad news. I have a football game soon." Charlotte's eyes snapped to me, and I thought I saw sadness flash in them.

    "Oh right of course. Do you want me to head home then?"

    "What? No. You aren't fucking going anywhere." She cringed at my curse word. "Sorry... I just meant. Look, I don't think I can miss this game, but I'm supposed to be watching you for 24 hours. So we have to figure something out."

    "Well, I've felt fine since I woke up. I'm sure I'll be good here alone for a bit."

    "Alright..." I said as I rubbed my chin trying to think of a plan. I needed to know she was okay the whole time. "How about this? I'll give my phone to a third-stringer—since he'll just be on the bench the whole time anyway. I want you to text me every 20 minutes to tell me you're fine. If he doesn't get a text, I'll come back right away. Fair?"

    Charlotte rolled her eyes at that, "Every 20 minutes... really? Why not every hour."

    "Because Charlotte," I said sternly. "If something is wrong for a whole hour then I won't know." I thought I saw a small shiver run over her but I wasn't sure why. Was she cold? How could she be wrapped up in all those clothes? "Do you want me to turn the heat up?"

    "Wha-? Oh! Gosh. No. Uhm, I'm fine thank you," She stumbled out as a blush spread across her cheeks. Alright then...

    We spent the rest of the day watching movies and eating snacks. I offered to order us real food but Charlotte was happy with her chips and juice. At four I had to leave, but standing there with my football bag over my shoulder, I couldn't move.

    "Seriously Archer. I will be fine, just go."

    "Okay, but you better fucking text me Charlotte, I mean it," I said as seriously as possible.

    "Yeah, yeah. Every 20 minutes. I'm about to put Tangled on so you better get out of here."

    "What! Don't watch that shit on my Netflix! People could see it on my account..." That made her laugh, which I didn't understand because I was being completely serious. Finally, with a huff, I left her alone.

    The game was stressful but not because of the idiots we played—that was simple. No, it was because I spent the whole game craning my neck over to the guy who had my phone. He'd give me a small thumbs up every time—but I still worried.

    As soon as we won the game I grabbed my phone and raced off the field to rip my gear off. I could hear my teammates still celebrating at the end of the tunnel but I had to go. Throwing my clothes on, I packed up my stuff and ran for the parking lot. When I exited the locker rooms there were people everywhere—waiting for players or celebrating on their own.

    I raced past everyone—dodging a few groupies and almost running over a couple of moronic teens. But I got to my truck and sped home, back to Charlotte. She had texted consistently as promised so I didn't know why I was worried, but until I saw her safe and sound I just couldn't settle.

    Pulling in front of the house, I threw my truck in park and hightailed it into the house. I took the stairs two at a time and burst through my door instantly scanning the room.