I CAN'T BELIEVE ARCHIE kissed me. And it's all I can think about.
We're wandering down to Archie's, walking on either side of the pavement, but it doesn't feel awkward. It's the weirdest but happiest I've felt in a long time, but I know this conversation is only going to go one way, and I just hoped it wouldn't change anything.
When he kissed me at the station, my mind went into overdrive when he tried to escalate it, my instincts kicking in as I pulled away.
I couldn't be his rebound relationship.
I was long-gone in love with him, and if he was using me to get over Dee, he would have shattered my heart into a billion tiny pieces. I would have become a shell of my former self and I knew I would never be the same.
So to protect myself, I close myself off.
But then he told me he wanted to explain. To explain everything. So I agreed, and we haven't said a word since.
I think he wanted to explain what the hell happened today for starters, with Dee and Callum, but then it also sounded like was going to explain more than that. I wanted him to tell me the truth, about everything, but I felt like it could have the potential to completely overwhelm me.
When we round the corner to his gated estate, he moves even closer to me and takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine.
I could feel his hand shaking, with tension was radiating off him like a bad sunburn. His face is serious when I peek at him, and I wonder if he'll actually go through with it and tell me.
I'd walked this path so many times over the years, but now, for the first time I was actually feeling nervous as we approached the driveway.
***
THE WALLS MOVED HERE eight years ago.
They used to live on Dover Street in Mayfair, but when commuting got too much for Wendy, taking Archie and Millie to and from school, they looked for a house in the suburbs. When they bought this house, it was the only one completed, soon to be part of a twelve-house gated estate.
Richard has properties across the world; several in America including in Manhattan, one in Rio and then a house not far from Nice in the south of France along with another in Monaco, which Richard uses to watch the F1 every year. We stayed in that one when we were about nine and we all went on holiday down there together, four parents and us four kids, and it was one of the best holidays. We've stayed in a few others, but now he only uses them for his business trips.
I don't actually know what Richard does, but I do know that Wall Enterprise Holdings is one of the top 25 operating companies in the UK, with a Head Office in Canary Wharf. I also know Archie's family was well off, as the company turned over hundreds of millions a year. It was definitely enough to mean both Millie and Archie wouldn't have to work a day in their lives.
But that's what I love about them.They want to work.
The money hasn't affected them detrimentally in any way, and they're so humble and down to earth. Even though they've grown up with money, they don't boast about it. They don't flash around in expensive clothes or cars; they don't rub anyone's noses in it. But what I love most is that they don't want to lie around doing nothing when school finishes.
I think if it was up to Richard, Archie would take over the business one day, but Archie had other ideas. I think he was disappointed at first, but now Richard doesn't seem bothered, letting him choose his own path, and do what he wants to do.
Archie wants to be a museum curator, or even teaching Art or Art History. And Millie wants to be a vet, although I didn't know if this was going to be a reality because she's squeamish about everything. But from these decisions you wouldn't have thought they'd been up brought up the way they had.
Archie has an incredibly keen eye for art, no matter where it is.
He's amazing at it, for one thing, his sketches are incredible, which means he knows an amazing painting when he sees one.
He's always stopping on the street when he sees talented graffiti, taking pictures and posting to Instagram, his shelves are full of Art History books. And he genuinely does read them. And his favourite place to go is the Impressionist's Gallery at the National Gallery in London,
When we were kids, maybe about eight or nine, we were taken there on a school trip, and I think that's where Archie first understood his love of art. I seem to remember his mouth was open with wonder the whole day, and he got told off four times by the teachers for lagging behind.
The best moment, though, was when we were counted at the end of the day. I'd heard the teachers saying we were one child short, and I just smiled, knowing that was Archie. The teachers had started to panic, but ten minutes later, security brought him back to us and told the teachers he'd been found just sitting, staring at Van Gogh's self-portrait.
Later that day, when Matt asked him, Archie had simply said he just felt completely entranced, and couldn't leave.
Since then, we've been to every impressionist exhibition there. Matt doesn't go anymore, but Millie or I go with him, and he still has that same look on his face when he looks at that painting.
***
AS WE ROUND THE corner to his house, I notice Archie's craning his neck to try and look at something.
"Arch, what are you doing?"
He wasn't doing it on purpose but he keeps pulling me into him as he cranes, making me trip over my own feet. So when he does it for the third time, I let his hand go, tutting involuntarily.
"Sorry, I was just checking who's home," he wipes his hands on his trousers and I can see he's relaxed slightly. I can't help but think he's checking for one car in particular. "No one is. Mum must still be at Aunt Sara's."
"Where's your dad?"
"Australia. He's there for like three more weeks." His jaw bounces as he says it with an edge.
I would sound more upset if I hadn't seen Dad for a few weeks, but I can't help and think I'm about hear why. Not only that, but Archie and Millie's behaviour recently has been arousing suspicions that I'd been right about who was responsible for those scars covering his back.
Unlocking the door, he gestures me in first then locks the door again behind us. I could smell something coming from the kitchen, so it looked like Martin was home and cooking something delicious. As Archie takes my hand and pulls me up the stairs, I can feel my mouth start to water.
My heart is pounding in my ears as he leads me into his room. I'd been in here so many times, doing homework or just hanging out, but this time feels completely different.
But I'm never not blown away by the mural in here. It's directly across from his bed, and it's one he painted himself of the beach in Rio. Its so lifelike, and the fact he drew and painted it from a postcard makes it even more awesome.
He lets my hand go as he shuts the door behind him, so I walk over to the bed and take off my coat, now feeling a bit nauseous with nerves. When I look up at him, he's looking intently at me as I take off my jumper. Even though I'm hot from walking from the station, as he looks at me, a cold but delicious shiver runs up my spine.
Without blinking he takes off his coat and jumper and takes a step towards me. I mirror him.
"So..." I take a step towards him again.
"So..." he echoes, taking two swaying steps forward.
We both take a few more steps, until we meet in the middle. All the while we look into each other's eyes, holding our gazes unwaveringly. His piercing caramel eyes, which looked more and more like melted butter, were boring into mine and making me completely weak at the knees.
"I have a lot to explain..." he begins.
He takes a deep breath and takes one more step forward, putting his hands on my hips. I put mine gently on his chest, trying not to hyperventilate from the close proximity.
"I... I feel like an island sometimes. I feel like I'm marooned with all these thoughts and all my problems, and things that keep building up. Because I don't have anyone to talk to about them."
"You can talk to me," I interject.
"I know I can Tess, but..." he shakes his head and turns it away, dropping his hands.
"Hey," I lift my hand to move his head back to face me, and he leans his forehead gently against mine as he puts his hands back on my hips.
He smiles, holding my gaze again. And when a sigh comes from him a couple of minutes later, I know he's made up his mind.
"What I'm about to tell you... You really can't tell anyone. I could be in a lot of trouble."
I frown, "Trouble? Archie, you can trust me."
He looks terrified as he presses his forehead to mine. He moves his hand and puts my right hand on his chest. I can feel his heart beating really fast. He holds my hand there as I look into his eyes.
"I won't tell anyone," I promise.
He looks like he wants to believe me, but he's still having trouble making that final step.
It wasn't fair for someone to carry a burden like this, and feel like they can't tell anyone. So I take a step forward, showing him I could be that person he could tell, and most importantly, trust. I could be that someone he could depend on.
That tiny step means I'm now close enough to put my mouth to his, so I do. I press my lips to his and slide my hands slowly up his chest, settling one hand on his cheek to hold him there. He doesn't move his lips, but he does snake his arms around me, pulling me closer as he tangles a hand into my hair.
This is it. I'd made my final leap, so now he has to make his.
His arms disappear from around me and our lips part as he steps away. But when I open my eyes, I freeze because I see his hands go to his shirt buttons, as if he was about to undress.
"Hey... Wait, no," I say, taking two steps backward, thinking he was wanting me to sleep with him. That I couldn't do. That would certainly break me if all he was going to use me for was for sex.
"Oh..." He looks down and his face contorts as he drops his hands, holding them up in a placating way. "No, God, no... I'm not wanting to do that," he takes a step forward so we're close together again, putting his hand on my cheek. He brushes it gently with his thumb as he drops a soft kiss on my forehead and I feel instantly more at ease. "I thought it would be easier to explain if I... if I showed you," he continues, whispering as he drops his hands again. They were now resting on his buttons, waiting until he gets an okay from me.
I nod, slowly, and he starts undoing his shirt again, keeping his gaze fixed on me.
"Can I?" I ask, stopping him by placing a hand on top of his after he's undone two.
He nods slowly and drops his hands, bunching them into fists by his sides as I continue with his shirt but I keep my eyes up on his the whole time as he watches me intently, his eyes burning into mine. As I reach the last button, I feel his breathing accelerate and I feel a shiver run through him as I place my hands on his strong shoulders to push the shirt to the floor.
I can feel how tense his muscles are, so I kiss his shoulder before taking a tiny step back, hoping it would help. I have no idea if what I'm doing is helping, but he does seem to relax slightly.
He pulls his arms out of the sleeves before it drops, so he's left standing in his jeans. And that's when I see what it is he's showing me. And as I take it all in, I cup my mouth and feel my eyes well up with tears.
"Archie..." I whisper.
His stomach and chest are covered in scars, absolutely covered in them. Some were small, some large, some barely noticeable, but they were there, and they were scarring his skin.
His stomach has a yellowing bruise on it, his chest had four marks that look like burns and he has a stripe that runs across his left shoulder that looks similar to those I'd seen on his back a few weeks ago.
"Please don't," he places a hand on each of my cheeks, using his thumbs to sweep away any tears that had started to fall. "Please don't cry for me, Tess. They don't hurt."
I can't believe he's having to console me. He's the one that's been hurt continuously. I need to be stronger than this... stronger for him.
I sniff, "There are just... so many of them," I sob as I put my hands on his chest.
He flinches slightly, probably because my hands are so cold, but he doesn't ask me to take them away. Instead he pulls me closer and kisses my forehead in the sweetest possible way. I brush my hand gently down his body to his lower chest, tracing the edges of the yellowing bruise at his hip.
His lips don't leave my forehead as he tries to keep me calm, but I can't help how I feel.
I want to kiss every scar on his chest, but instead I move my eyes down his torso again. His muscles shudder as I lightly graze my fingers over a welt on his side, but then I bring my eyes up to his, not wanting to look at them anymore.
On my way up though, I see the four burns closer.
They're bigger than cigarette burns; they're cigar burns. The thought makes me sick to my stomach with anger because I only know one person who smokes cigars.
"It's your dad, isn't it?" I ask quietly, looking up at him.
He doesn't need to say anything because I can see I'm right from his silence.
After a few minutes, he gives me the tiniest nod and looks down in shame. I kiss his forehead, holding my lips there, knowing it's the leap of a lifetime for him to make the decision to finally tell someone.
He's chosen to put all his trust in me, and now he's told me something that was unbelievable. I was grateful that he told me, but I am now caught in the middle. I'm caught between keeping his trust, and doing what was right and telling someone who can help.
As I watched him, I could see Archie was still that small I boy I once knew. He was stuck. After all these years he was still terrified of the bogeyman... and he was terrified because the bogeyman is his father.
"Archie... How long has this been going on?" I whisper, taking a step back from him, keeping my fingers laced with his as I wait.
He doesn't answer my question, but now I'm able to see them up close they look to be about two or three years old. They're all just as awful as I remembered, but there were nine in total. Some look more painful than the others, and I see one of the five stripes on his back continues over his shoulder.
They've all healed, so I'm guessing they no longer hurt him, but can't have made it any better for him to bear.
As I turn again, I pause. I notice the skin around the marks is dotted with purple, permanent bruising from the broken skin and burst blood vessels, and it's discoloured his back. It still looks tender, and I'm guessing these are the reason I hadn't seen Archie with his shirt off at school.
If people saw him with it off they'd definitely notice these, and then questions would rightfully be raised. And it makes me torn, again. I'm torn between keeping his trust or breaking it and calling the police or social services. Someone that can get him out of that house and somewhere safe.
I sniff, trying to keep my resolve. For both our sakes I don't want to look at them, but when I notice the shape of the bruise on his hip a triangle shape, I can't stop the words that come out of my mouth in a sob.
"Oh my God... Did he kick you?" I try to swallow the lump in my throat as my fingers run lightly over it and he flinches again, probably because I've tickled him. This time I take a big step back, away from him, afraid I'd hurt him.
"Archie, I'm so sorry," I say again, not knowing what else to say. "This is horrible." I put my hands over my face as I sob into them. "I can't even begin to understand what you've been going through."
I couldn't, and I could never understand, even despite him telling me. It put mine and Matt's life into perspective, and I no longer had any right to complain about anything ever again.
We have a father who believes we walk on water and a mum, although not here all the time, who cares so much she moves heaven and earth to talk to us most days to check in. They had one parent who beat them, and the other spent days or weeks away from them without any word or any kind of explanation.
"At the beginning of term..." he begins to say as he turns to sit on the bed.
"Archie, these scars look way too old to be from the beginning of term," I interrupt, following him, sitting next to him. He wipes my eyes and kisses each of my hands before continuing.
"No, that's not what I was going to say... I meant the not knowing where Mum was at the beginning of term... This has been the first time where I thought Dad could go too far."
"What do you mean?"
He shakes his head, as if he can't believe I can't understand. "He's always just hit me once," he explains. "And I could handle that. But... I don't know. Something's changed in him. He's gets angry easier, and he flies off the handle at smaller things." He's speaking disjointedly, but it's s obviously all making some sort of sense in his own head. It didn't make sense to me. Richard shouldn't be hitting him at all. End of the story.
"Archie, how long has this been going on?" I ask the question again, hoping this time he'll answer me and be honest.
He looks at me, "The first stripes were when I was 14 maybe? I can't really remember. Then... little and often since then," he says, his voice small as he drops his head into his hands. "Some were... January this year."
"January...?" I say incredulously, remembering those two weeks he was off and how much things have changed since then.
I think back to our first day this year, and how they acted different in the car to when they were out of it. They were lighter and more bubbly, and I couldn't believe we'd missed the signs.
"My dad treated you for something at your house two years ago... and you told us you'd been mugged. Was that... him? Was that your back?" I ask him the questions, giving him the option to answer me if he wanted to, but this time I don't have to wait long for the response.
He nods, looking at me, and I cross my arms across my stomach, closing my eyes as I feel myself starting to shake with terror, rage and nausea. This conversation was beginning to make me feel sick.
"Tessa, please don't dwell on this," he says, pushing up from the bed to kneel in front of me, taking my hands.
He places them around his neck, making me smile slightly, and he shuffles me closer to him before pulling me up to stand.
"Can we focus on something else? Something much more important," he leans down and touches his forehead to mine, looking into my eyes, waiting patiently for me to answer.
I give him a meek nod and he leans back so we're at eye level, gazing into each other's eyes, one heated gaze meeting another. It's a look I recognise, because it's something that fills my eyes, my body and my soul every time I look at him.
It's filled with admiration, with happiness, with hope.
But most of all it's filled with love.
"I lo-" he starts to say, but I already know it.
He can't finish because I push my lips to his, and hold onto him with every ounce of strength I can find.
His arms wrap around me as he pulls me into his arms, and I cling to his neck as I feel my feet come off the ground. I wrap my legs around his waist as he spins, holding me up with one arm on my butt, the other tangling into my hair.
He carries me slowly over to the bed, our mouths still connected, our kiss continuing, and then he gently puts me down, using his arm to stop his full weight from crushing me. I know we won't go much further than this, but this is the best I've ever felt when kissing a boy.
Part of me knew I'd always be holding out for the right one, and I'm really glad I'd waited. Every other kiss I'd had was nothing compared to this. Nothing could ever match the fire he ignites in me.
His kisses are like oxygen, and I need them to breathe. His mouth is like fire as his kisses burn across my skin and through to my soul in a way that only he knows. He's the only one that had the map to it and now he'd found the key. And it was such a relief to finally tell him how I feel, releasing them feverishly as he kissed me.
All I could do now was just unleash them with as much power as I knew possible. And as his lips continue to feed my soul, I'm feeling so many things. I didn't know what to do with them, other than kiss Archie back with as much as fire and passion as he was kissing me with. But that was all each of us needed at the moment.
As we continue, he teases the skin around my stomach with his fingers, and my body ties itself further into a knot, my legs still wrapped around his waist as we grind against each other.
Then in one brave move, I kiss him hard and then lean up to move positions so that I'm on top, straddling him when he sits up as I lean back. He smiles, so I kiss his teeth, and I find myself smiling against his mouth.
We're now nose to nose, and it's then that he stops and looks at me, his hands stroking a calm rhythm down my back.
"I'm sorry it's taken me this long to realise just how truly special you are to me. You are one of the most beautiful girls," he leans forward and kisses me long and hard, "I've ever seen," he whispers.
I bring my lips to his once more, but then he moves his lips to kiss the side of my jaw then moves down to my throat as he drags his fingers lightly up and down my back again, underneath my shirt. He's making me squirm on top of him and an involuntary sigh comes from my mouth.
He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, just like he always has, and smiles, his face practically splitting in two. It's weird that five minutes ago we were both practically crying, and now I felt like I was beyond incandescently happy.
I just hope he was too.
"I had no idea how you felt, so I just thought my feelings were stupid," he whispers in my ear as he nips at my earlobe.
I shake my head as he strokes my cheek, but he continues, meeting my eyes.
"I think I've always loved you... in one way or another. I've loved you since the beginning. And I've only really realised it these last few months. I missed you more than anything while you were off sick, but... it started way before then. It's something that's been living in the back of my mind and... I don't want to ignore it anymore."
"What changed?" I say, looking at him with a confused smile on my face.
I feel like my cheeks are bright red. The way he was holding me and looking at me right now was so idyllically perfect that I didn't care what colour my cheeks were. Nothing can take away from this moment.
"A few things," he says, kissing me again before he continues. "Your strength. Your willingness to constantly help me... regardless of how it made you feel. You hold yourself up when people try to put you down, and you don't take shit from anyone, me included.
I giggle at that.
"And then there's your big heart."
He taps and holds his hand over it and we both smile as my heart reacts by beating faster than it ever had before.
"Your big, beautiful heart that's been there for me no matter what... for all these years..."
He kisses me again.
"God, I am such an idiot for not opening my eyes sooner to how amazing you truly are."
"I'm just glad you've finally come to your senses," I giggle, stroking the side of his face, brushing bits of fringe from his forehead. I can feel tears falling down my cheeks at his words.
"You mean with Dee?" I nod. "Yeah, and I had my suspicions. I just... I can't believe I let them get the better of me."
I wrinkle my nose, "I never liked her you know."
"I didn't think you did," he smiles.
I kiss him, rolling us over so we're both lying on the bed, still nose to nose as I tangle my legs in-between his.
"She never understood what she had in front of her this whole time," I smile as I lean forward to kiss the space between his eyes. "She had something so incredible and she refused to love him as much as I do."
Grinning, not afraid I'd just admitted to loving him, I feel his body sighs in relief.
Most 16 or 17 year-olds wouldn't dream of admitting the L word so soon, but we knew differently.
I'd loved him since I was 11, ever since I knew what love was. And now I was finally learning what it feels like to be loved in return. And I knew I'd made the right choice in waiting for him.
"I love you too."
I grin, "Finally!" I lean forward and kiss him long and hard, wrapping my arms tight around his neck. I can feel him smiling as I kiss him and the thought fills me with air and I feel like I'm floating.
"Again I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to work this out. I'm so sorry for everything I've put you through and I'm sorry I've kept so many things from you, and from Matt," he says, rolling us over again so we're now in the centre of his bed.
He puts one hand on my cheek as he wraps the other around me, pulling me flush against him and kisses me again, closing his eyes.
"You're worth the wait, Archie Wall," I tell him, pulling him back to me slowly, kissing his nose, his cheeks, his forehead and finally his lips.
"You're worth it."