The Rest Is History | ✓

31 | the confession

Archer returned to school two days later.

I'd visited Mrs Woods at the hospital after she regained consciousness, and she was elated to see me. She wasn't getting the point of all the 'fuss' we were making about her.

"Honey, I'm fine! Why are you all so worried even now?"

Mr Woods mock-glared at her. "You don't know how worried you had us there, El. Archer and Viv were scared stiff and it wasn't for nothing! Your condition was much more serious than what you think."

She sighed. "Okay, okay, fine. But I'm alright now, aren't I? Viv, dear, how're your parents?"

I smiled. "They're fine, Mrs Woods. They're coming to see you today in the evening."

"Oh, lovely! I haven't seen them in so long!"

Archer patted his mum's head. "Now, don't get so excited mum, you need to rest. Getting all worked up isn't good for you."

He was taking great care of his mum. Constantly sitting by her side, ensuring she ate enough, taking care of her medicines, filling her in about everything she missed during the time she was unconscious...he was doing it all.

And upon Mrs Woods' insistence, he finally returned to school two days post the surgery.

We were back to our regular routine- footy training, classes, and then working in the study.

But despite the same old lifestyle, something was different this time. That tension, that awkwardness between us still lingered. It was as if neither of us had been able to forget what'd happened on the day of the surgery.

We were constantly stepping on eggshells around each other. Whatever easygoing friendship I'd hoped to develop with him was gone. We were stuck in a strange limbo between friendship, and something else.

Something more.

Now, every kind of contact with him was making me hyper aware of his presence, and all the time alone with him in the study was definitely not helping.

Today, in the evening, for example, when we were both working, he suddenly leaned over me to take some worksheets which were kept on my desk, and in doing so, his arm brushed against mine, and his face hovered a bit too close for my liking.

I tried to subtly shift away. But he noticed.

"Am I--am I making you uncomfortable?" He asked hesitantly.

I shook my head almost mechanically. "No, um..of course not. Everything's great."

He stared at me for some time, and then broke out in a slight half smile.

"You know, I can tell when you're lying."

"I'm not lying!"

"Vi," he placed his hands on either arm of my chair and leaned forward, "you're forgetting I've known you for a long time now."

The look he was giving me made me flush, and I closed my eyes for a second, then opened them again. "No, you're not making me uncomfortable."

He gave me the tiniest of smirks. "Sure about that?"

I nodded and smiled tightly. "Yup."

He leaned in closer, smirk still intact. "Even now?"

We were almost nose-to-nose now. Someone kill me.

I decided I wouldn't let him affect me. Hah, too late for that. Okay, correction, I wouldn't let him know he was affecting me.

I smiled calmly. "Well, you're invading my personal space, which you really shouldn't be doing"--I subtly reminded him of the time I'd asked him to give me space--"but it's not affecting me as such, if that's what you wanted to know."