Mia's POV
"We can't just leave him out there."
I look out the window from my room and still see Archer's shadow. It's dark out, it's almost ten o'clock. He's sitting at a bench, looking out at the fence.
"Well, good luck getting him past Dave."
I look over at Lydia, and can't help but smile. She's right, Dave's been very careful with keeping Archer away from the large group and the buildings.
I feel bad for him, really. He's probably pretty cold, and bored, by himself out there. I gaze out the the window and think to myself.
"Well, if Dave won't let him in, I'll just go out."
"Mia-" Lydia grabs my arm, but I shake it off. "Mia, I heard what happened yesterday. He could hurt you-"
"He won't." I say, and she looks at me strangely. "And how do you know that?"
"Because," I say, "if he doesn't kill me this time, we'll be even." I smile, and all Lydia does is shake her head at me.
***
Archer has his eyes on me right when I open and close the door. It's almost as if his blue eyes are glowing in the dark. I have a long walk till I get to him, so this is is quite awkward. I'm smiling at him, but I don't know if he can even see my face. He doesn't react much, which means he isn't scared or anything, which is good.
"Hey." I finally say, and he looks up at me.
"Hey." He says.
"Thought you could use some things." I set down a bag of stuff. I brought a little tent, some blankets, and one of my biggest sweatshirts for Archer. Immediately, he grabs the tent and starts to figure out how to put it up. I let him do it, mostly because I think he just wants to do something-anything, than just sit here. I watch at how focused he is as he puts it up. I hand him my sweatshirt.
"Thanks." He says while putting it on. I smile.
"Mind if I hang here for the night?" I ask. He looks at me strangely for a moment, then nods. I go in the tent and spread the blankets out. I set some lamp flashlights on the floor. Archer follows me in, his hood over his head so far it covers his forehead.
We both sit down; me crosslegged, and Archer wrapping his arms around his knees, staring st the floor.
What do I say?
We used to be able to talk all the time. We never ran out of things to talk about, it seemed.
I wish I could ask him about when he was taken. Both times, actually. By the government and by the mayors. I don't know what they did to him. I can tell they starved and beaten him, but I can only tell by his physical appearance. He won't say a word about it, and I guess I can't blame him.
Talk to him Mia. Dammit, just talk to him!
I don't know what to say. What can I say? Hey,I heard they shot your sister in front of you, sorry! Or hey, I know you don't want to talk about it, but how did Evelyn beat you?
I wish he would tell me-anything. But I don't think he's going to talk at all. His eyes are fixed on the floor, his hood covering half his face.
I hate myself for not being able to talk to him. I could say anything. I could talk to myself, even. Something to fill this silence. Anything to keep my mind off things.
"Usually it's the girls who wear the boys hoodies."
My head shoots up and looks at Archer, who has his dashing blue eyes right on mine.
"What?" I ask. I heard what he said, but I don't understand.
"Usually the girls wears boys hoodies. Usually the boys are all nice and give the girls their jackets and stuff. Or they open the car doors for girls. That's what I've learned, anyhow." He goes on. "As a guy wearing a girls hoodie and is being taken cared of like this-makes me a pretty wimpy guy."
I smile. "Your not wimpy. You're the strongest guy I know."
"Then you don't get out much, huh."
I laugh this time. "You're right on that. At least you have Adam and Casper beat."
I see a small smile on his face and it hits me like a brick wall.
We're talking.
And there's some humor in it. It doesn't seemed forced, it seems like a regular conversation. Archer is talking to me. He didn't have to, he could've stayed silent.
It's progress.
"You know a lot about the whole girls and boys thing, don't you." I say, and he nods.
"Can you tell me some?"
"Like stereotypes?" He asks, and I nod.
"Well, boys like muscles, and girls like small."
"What?" I laugh, and he shrugs. "I've heard girls always want to be skinner, and guys muscular. It's a stereotype, though. Not true, really."
"Well, I'm for sure not the girl type," I smile, "but you fit the boy image perfectly."
"I think I've got the girl image down perfectly," he says, looking down at his frail, skinny body. I would laugh, but this is something that's serious. Evelyn and the mayors made him way skinner. He's still toned and well built, but lost a lot of weight.
"How do you know all these things, about the genders." I say.
"I've learned a lot. I was interested at a young age, so I did research."
"And that's why you left your dome."
"Yes." He says. "There was so much more out there, you know? Things that I would have never of seen. Not just girls, but different guys too. Different personalities, different lifestyles. I didn't care if nobody left my dome with me. I didn't care that I was captured by your dome. I would have done anything to leave. I wanted it."
"You got it, though." I say, and Archer laughs a little. "Yeah, right. This is exactly what I wanted."
I know what he means. He did make it to the Alliance, but was captured and hurt multiple times.
"It was horrible, Mia."
I freeze. He said my name. And he's taking about what-when he was captured?
"You know I hate to talk about it. I'm pretty sure you've heard about my sister. Evelyn did it. She beat me till I forgot who I was. She locked me up till I went mad. She chained me up till I felt like the monster. It's something I want to forget-"
"But you can't." I say, and he looks up at me and nods.
"Why?" He asks suddenly.
I don't know that answer, really. Obviously because it was traumatizing, but I think he knows that. He wants a better reason, a better answer.
"Because-it changed you," I say, "you can't forget because you want to go back to that old person you were. Maybe the memories are coming back so you can remember who you were." It's a cheesy answer, but hell, maybe it's true.
"Maybe that's why I can't forget about you."
"What?" I say, and I see a small smile on his face.
"By god I want to think you're a horrible person, but something is telling me you're not. Maybe that's why."
"I don't get what you're saying," I say, my eyes fixed on his bright blue ones.
"You said I can't forget about it because I want to remember who I was. And I can't forget about you."
I smile. He remembers me because he wants to remember who he was.
Who he was with me. I smile at him.
"Then maybe that's why I can't let you go."
••••••
Hiiii!!!
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