“Guys…”
I didn’t get to say more than that because Archie stood up abruptly and hooked his arm through mine. “Frankie needs a minute. In fact, Frankie needs five minutes. You guys entertain Frenchy. We’ll be back.”
“Hey—”
“Maybe.” Then Archie tugged me away from the table even as he offered me one of the coffee cups.
My options were limited considering half the cafeteria was watching us. The hum of conversation had dropped significantly since Mathieu and I walked in. My stomach bottomed out and sweat prickled over my skin.
The last thing I wanted was to be the subject of more gossip at the school. The untouchable badge was humiliating enough.
“I’ll be right back,” I said over my shoulder as Archie started walking. Mathieu frowned but Bubba cut off his line of sight. The only one not staring at him was Coop, who stared after me and Archie.
Archie, who didn’t slow down until we were out of the cafeteria and the door closed behind us, cutting off the noise. Then he pivoted and stared at me.
The glare in his brown eyes gave me pause. More, the hard slash of his mouth and absolute anger that seemed to be floating off him in waves.
I tugged my arm free of him and backed up a step. That just seemed to piss him off more and I lifted my chin. “Problem?”
It was like waving a red flag at a bull. Maybe I should have expected it. A part of me did expect the anger and the irritation—from Jake. Maybe from Coop. They always got bitchy about new people—guys now that I thought about it.
But Archie? He’d always been the most relaxed.
He’d also been the one with the most girlfriends too. They never stuck around for long. He didn’t seem to be that interested in them, or if he was, the interest waned fast.
“You’re way too smart to ask such a stupid question.” He practically ground out the words like they needed to be turned to grit between his teeth. “Who the fuck is Frenchy?”
“I introduced him. I would have given you a last name, but you guys got a bit dramatic.”
That was underselling it.
Archie’s hands twitched like he was going to reach out to me, then he folded his arms. “Frankie…”
“Don’t you Frankie me. I have a boyfriend. Shouldn’t be a big deal. If it is, he and I can sit somewhere else.”
He blew out an explosive breath. “Itisa big deal.”
“Why?” I raised my brows as I stared at him. “You guys date like you’re eating potato chips. Can’t just have one. Always going back for more. I finally get a date, and a guy who likes me, and suddenly it’s a problem?”
I swore I could hear the clack of his teeth as they snapped together. “Not the point. First day of the school year is about us?—”
“It used to be.” The words slipped out before I could pull them back. Maybe it was the fact he’d dragged me out here and we were alone. Maybe it was his proprietary tone. Maybe it was the fact that guilt was actually scrabbling around inside of me and I refused to feel guilty.
“Itusedto be?” Archie asked, his voice going deadly quiet and he narrowed the distance between us until he loomed over me. “What the hell does that mean?”
I held his gaze and didn’t retreat. “It means that we’ve done things your way—all of your ways for years. You called the shots. You got to set the tone. You dated. You got laid. You broughtyour rotating door of girlfriends to hang out and I’ve been supportiveevery single step of the way.”
Anger flooded me, chasing away even the vaguest sense of unease. Angerandhurt. I jabbed his chest with my finger once for each of the past six words.
“I listened to your complaints. I helped you pick out presents. I warned you when they were taking things more seriously than you thought.AndI was there for you. How did you guys repay me?”
“By protecting you and beingyourfriend?” The rawness in his tone took me aback. “You want an apology forthat? You can forget it. You don’t get to just spend the whole summer ignoring us, treating us like crap, then waltzing back in here with some stranger—who you can’tpossiblyknow what he wants from you—then think we’re going to be okay with it.”
“Sucks when you turn out to be wrong about the person you thought had your back.” I needed to defuse the situation. Some rational part of my brain made list after list of why I should.
But the rest of me? The part that cried herself to sleep the night after Rachel told me what they’d done? The part that watched for it in the days that followed and realized how much she’d underplayed it? The me who went to the spring dance by herself when all four of those assholes took a date?
That part of me? Yeah, that part wanted to slap him upside the head.
