“Archie—” I started, too many emotions battering against each other in my chest.
“Frankie,” he said without looking at me, voice softening just a hair, “you okay?”
I hated that I wasn’t.
I hated that he could see it.
I hated that the kiss was suddenly right there between us again, breathing, alive.
“Yes,” I lied, because it was the only thing I had left. “I’m fine.”
Archie’s eyes flicked to Mathieu’s, dark and unwavering. “Then step back.”
For a very long second, Mathieu didn’t move. Finally, he exhaled through his nose, slow and trembling, and dropped his hand to his side.
“I just wanted an answer,” he said, voice cracking at the edges.
I swallowed. Hard. “I can’t give you one right now.”
Something in his expression splintered and then he walked away, leaving a cold ache in his wake.
The hallway buzzed louder—voices, whispers, phones out. People pretending not to stare.
Archie stayed where he was, hands clenched, jaw locked tight.
And me?
I stood pinned between the boy I’d kissed, the boy I’d hurt, and the impossible mess I’d made out of all of us.
The day hadn’t even really started.
And I already wanted to crawl back into Archie’s Ferrari, bury my face in my hands, and pretend none of this existed. Pretend I hadn’t kissed him. Pretend he hadn’t kissed me back. Pretend the world hadn’t tilted and then started spinning like it wanted to fling me clean off.
But pretending didn’t stop the heat rising under my skin. Or the way the hallway noise turned into a low-grade roar, full of stares I caught out of the corner of my eye—too many, too pointed.
Archie didn’t move until I did.
The second I shifted, he made sure to press my coffee back into my hand then his hand hovered at the small of my back, not quite touching, but there. A steady anchor if I wanted it. A threat if anyone else took one step too close.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “We’re gonna be late.”
His voice wasn’t sharp anymore. It wasn’t even irritated. It was… soft. Concern threaded through steel, and that combination hit harder than the confrontation itself.
I nodded, because I didn’t trust my mouth.
As we walked, conversations cleaved around us, like the tide pulling back from something dangerous. Phones stayed low but angled. Someone gasped when Archie shot them a withering look. Someone else mutteredI heard she dumped Mathieu already?—
I picked up the pace.
We still had two turns before we reached the hallway that housed our classroom. Two eternity-long turns. Archie matched my stride like he was doing it on instinct, close enough that I felt his warmth every time my shoulder brushed his arm.
And that was a whole different problem, because my heart kept mistaking proximity for meaning.
Ten feet from our class, he finally spoke again.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
No one else would have asked it like that. Jake would’ve demanded answers. Bubba would’ve tried to make me laugh. Coop… Coop’s question would’ve been quieter, more private. But Archie?
