Chapter Eight
"I'm not saying he is gay, Cara. I'm just saying you have to consider the possibility that he might be gay."
I didn't even know how to respond to that, but apparently my face said it all. Claudia rolled her eyes and threw up her hands.
"Honestly, Cara, don't tell me you've never thought about it! You and Archer have been completely in each other's space for ages now. If he were really into you, wouldn't you have been... in each other's space?"
"Claudia!"
"What? I'm just saying most guys would have made some kind of move by now."
I blushed, thinking about the move he specifically hadn't made the day before. Claudia misunderstood. "He did make a move! How could you not tell me?"
"He didn't..."
I explained everything.
"But that doesn't mean he's gay!" I finished.
"No, it doesn't. It could just mean he's not interested."
"Thanks. That's great."
" Or that he's really shy. You said he's never had a girlfriend, right? So maybe he's like the forty-year-old virgin."
"Nice. Way to make him sound completely undesirable."
"Other options: gay or not into you."
"Okay, forty-year-old virgin. But it's not like I've ever had a boyfriend, and I'm not too shy to do something!"
"Then do it," Claudia said. She folded her arms like the conversation was over.
"Do ... what?" I asked. "Make the first move? The thing you told me not to do because it would scare him away?"
"I was wrong," Claudia said.
"How do you know? What happened to patience? What happened to 'even if it takes him a while'?"
"A while, yes. This is an epoch! New species have mutated into existence since you and Archer first started flirting!"
"It's only been six weeks!"
"Cara, you stopped the Ladder for this guy!"
"Oh! So this is about the Ladder!"
"This is about you," Claudia said. "If Archer really likes you, I don't care about the Ladder. But if he doesn't, you're wasting an amazing opportunity and you're torturing yourself waiting for something that won't happen!"
I was all energized to respond. I really was. Except she was right. I honestly didn't think Archer was gay. If he was, he was very closeted, and he didn't need to be—not in his Cubby Crew. Doug wasn't. But it was possible. And it was a lot better than thinking that even though to me we seemed like the perfect couple, he really didn't think of me that way. The very idea made my stomach hurt. Then again, maybe Archer wanted me to make the first move. Maybe he really was just crazy shy and needed a little encouragement. Maybe the second I leaned over and kissed him, he'd throw himself on me, kissing me, holding me close, inching his hand slowly underneath my shirt...
I was starting to sweat.
"So..." I asked Claudia, "did your Ladder research tell you anything about how to make the first move?"
I hate horror movies. Really, truly hate them. Would never in a million years go out of my way to see one. I even know that Archer hates horror movies, too.
This did not for one second stop me from adding Saw to my parents' Netflix queue. It came two days later, and I told Archer I really wanted to watch it. Friday night. At his house.
The timing was very specific. Saturday would be huge at Chrysella Prep. During the day was the Homecoming football game. This meant less than nothing to me, except for the fact that in the name of school spirit, Archer didn't have play rehearsal Friday night. In theory, this was so cast members could attend pep rallies, but neither Archer nor I were pep rally types.
Saturday night was the school's Halloween dance. Aside from the casting of Cyrano, this was the biggest event on the fall schedule for Archer and his friends. They started planning their costumes over the summer and coordinated to make a massive group statement. I'd seen pictures of the eight of them freshman year as the Muppets and sophomore year as the Eight Wonders of the Ancient World. Technically, there are seven wonders of the ancient world, but everyone agreed that Wonder Woman qualified as the eighth.
This year they were going as Greek gods and goddesses. They'd invited me to join them, but I had no confidence that I could pull off a costume as ornate as theirs, even after Sue promised to help me with the sewing. Besides, I had a kitty cat costume from last year that made me look very cute, so I figured I'd wear that.
My grand plan was for Archer and me to seal the deal and become a couple on Friday, making Saturday's Halloween dance our first official date. And who doesn't want to spend her first date all dressed up and dancing the night away with her brand-new boyfriend?
On Monday I told him my cinematic plans.
"Really?" Archer grimaced. "Saw? I thought you weren't into horror movies."
"People say if you're going to watch one, this is the one to watch," I said. I walked away enigmatically to avoid any questions I couldn't answer. At least, I tried for enigmatically, but I tripped over the outstretched feet of a Wasteoid and went sprawling. So much for mystique.
For once I was glad Archer was so busy with rehearsals. It was hard even to be around him that week. My head was too swimmy with what I knew I was planning and all the wonderful and horrific ways it could turn out. It played a constant fantasy loop that ranged from an insane makeout session on the Ping-Pong table to Archer racing from the room screaming, arms flailing as he ran to disinfect himself from the full-body assault.
I didn't go right to Archer's after school Friday. First I met Claudia at my house, and we spent no less than four hours figuring out what I should wear, how I should do my hair, and how I should smell. Thankfully, Mom and Karl had their own Halloween party that night. They were so busy getting ready and out the door, they didn't notice the intensity of my preparation. Not that Mom would have objected. Had she known my plan, she probably would have jumped for joy and helped Claudia get me ready. Check that—first she would have called Bina, then they'd both have jumped in to help. Gross.
The first snag Claudia and I hit was underwear. Claudia insisted that my underwear had to be matching, clean, and cute. I figured clean was a given, but I couldn't imagine any scenario in which I'd be modeling my cute, matching underwear for Archer.
"That's not the point," Claudia said. "Articles of clothing could get moved around. Things could come off. You never know what he's going to see. Everything has to look good just in case. Besides, women are more confident when they have on sexy underwear. It's a documented fact."
Claudia knew her documented facts. I didn't question it. Unfortunately, I'd never bought underwear for any purpose beyond wearing it under things, so I didn't exactly have anything that worked as a smashing ensemble. And I certainly didn't have anything sexy.
Eventually, we settled on a basic white silky bra and white cotton bikini panties with a little lacy trim at the top. I stood in front of the mirror and we both studied my reflection. It wasn't anything we hadn't seen before; Claudia and I lived in bikinis over the summer. But this felt different.
"I don't know..." I said. "Do I look good?"
"You're slouching a little. Stand up straighter," Claudia advised.
I did. She nodded. "Perkier. Better."
"You think?" I turned to the side to get another view. "You don't think the waistband makes my stomach pook out a little? You don't think I need a fancier bra?"
"No pookage," Claudia said. "And you don't have a fancier bra. It's okay, though. If Archer actually gets to the bra, he won't want to judge it. He'll want to get around it, beyond it, and get you out of it."
Was it bad that the idea made me smile? Of course, if he got me out of it, I would be half naked with Archer. Half naked. Nobody had seen me naked since I was a kid. I didn't even let my mom see me naked. I didn't even like to look at me naked. But Archer might see me naked.
Not that it was likely. This would be our first time fooling around, and I was fairly certain neither one of us was an expert at getting people naked ... but it wasn't out of the question. Naked was at least a possibility.
I might see Archer naked. Did I want to see Archer naked? The question was ridiculous; it made me think of him standing in front of an art class, throwing off a robe, and striking a pose. If naked happened, it wouldn't be a formal thing. We'd be attacking each other: kissing and unbuttoning and feeling and touching and...
I giggled as a shiver ran through me. Yeah, I wanted this. Badly. I quickly pulled on the rest of the outfit Claudia and I had picked: a skirt, which was both cute and more accessible than jeans; a thin long-sleeve shirt; and boots with heels. I tamed my hair with product and let the curls hang loose, and put on just enough makeup that I looked better than usual but not so much that I'd arouse suspicion right off the bat. We went fruity with the perfume: alluring without screaming "jump me" and in a small enough dose that he wouldn't smell me the minute my car pulled up out front. I grinned at the end result in the mirror. I looked good.
"You look great," Claudia amended. I swear she could read my thoughts. "Do you feel seductive?"
"I kind of do."
The drive to Archer's was all but impossible; I was concentrating so hard on my breathing, I forgot little things like headlights and turn signals. I took limited solace in the fact that if I died in a car wreck, I'd be wearing not just clean but cute, matching underwear.
As I parked and walked to Archer's door, I had to keep wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt. This was crazy! I'd been here a million times before! Why was I freaking out like a complete loser?
But of course I knew exactly why, and it made me blush the moment Archer opened the door.
"Wow ... you look great," Archer said with more than a hint of surprise. Was it bad that me looking great surprised him?
I held up the DVD. "Ready to see Saw?"
"Seesaw? I've always been more of a monkey bars man myself, but sure."
We said hi to Archer's parents. Bina took in my outfit with a look that made me immensely grateful my mom and Karl were out. If they weren't, I had no doubt Bina would be on the phone with my mom immediately. I put the thought out of my mind and vowed not to think about Bina and Edward being right upstairs while Archer and I did whatever we were about to do. We grabbed two enormous cups of soda—not that I'd be touching mine—and a huge bowl of popcorn, then disappeared into the basement and put in the DVD.
I honestly can't tell you what happened in the movie. For me it was all about finding moments nerve-racking enough to lurch into Archer's arms and cower close. Luckily, there were a lot of those moments. Within the first fifteen minutes, Archer and I were locked together, gripping each other for dear life. My eyes were technically on the screen, but I saw nothing. I was completely tuned in to my other senses: the smell of Archer's skin, the feel of his body pressing against mine, the sound of his quickening heartbeat thudding against my ear.
In my head, I pored over Archer's every move. Was he holding me because of the movie or because he really wanted to hold me? His hand was moving on my arm ... was he caressing me or was it just a distracted motion? Was he breathing harder because he was frightened or because we were closer than we had ever been? The few glimpses of the movie that actually sank in were gruesome, hideous, and everything I despised. It was disgusting ... and I wanted it to go on forever.
Then it ended, and suddenly we had no excuse: we were just two people tangled in each other's arms. We shifted apart awkwardly. I knew what I had to do next—but I was terrified. And thrilled. My heart beat triple time. I felt like I was being chased by wolves.
Archer licked his lips and smiled. Did he know what I was thinking? Was he thinking the same thing?
He picked up his soda and took a sip. "So ... what did you think?" he asked. His voice sounded higher than usual. Could he be nervous? Could he be secretly dying to kiss me but too afraid to do it? If so, it really was up to me. It had to be now. I'd never find a better time.
I shut my eyes for just a second and took a huge breath. This was it. I dove forward to close the gap between my lips and his—
"Want more popcorn?" he yelled, and leaped back and away so fast that the entire couch toppled over backwards. His soda poured all over us.
"Ow!" I screamed as my head thudded onto the floor.
"Oh God! Are you okay?" Archer leaped up and held out his hand to help me, but physical contact with him was now the last thing I wanted.
"I'm fine! I'm fine!" The soda plastered my thin shirt to my body. When I stood, the sticky liquid drained down my legs and into my boots. Then I felt the soda seep into my underwear. Perfect.
"You're soaked. I'm so sorry. Here, I..." Archer grabbed a bunch of napkins and reached out as if he was going to dab me dry, but he just waved the napkins in front of my drenched skirt and shirt, clearly too mortified to dream of actually touching me.
He didn't have to worry; he had nothing on me in the mortification department. "It's fine," I said, taking the napkins and uselessly blotting the mess.
"Cara, I—"
I couldn't bear an explanation.
"No, stop," I said. "Please. I'm okay. I just ... I need to go."
I grabbed my purse and raced up the stairs, but he stopped me halfway.
"Cara, wait!"
I winced. I swear I didn't want to hear how much he hoped we could still be friends. Reluctantly I turned and looked at him. The soda had spilled all over him, too. He looked wet and miserable. Of course he was miserable. The idea of my lips touching his had repelled him so much that he chose to risk concussion rather than let it happen. I could see it in his eyes: he thought I was pitiful.
Cara...
I was going to cry. If I had to hear him try to make it better, I was going to cry, and crying in front of him was the one thing that would make this even worse. I gripped the railing, curled in my lips, and bit down on them, fighting back the tears.
"You're, um, forgetting the movie," Archer said. The tone of his voice had changed. It was flatter. Good. He must have decided not to explain. There was a chance I could survive. I realized he was holding out the DVD and I snatched it, making sure our hands didn't touch.
"GreatThanksBye," I said. I raced upstairs, out of the house, and into my car. I got there just before the tears started rolling down my cheeks. I was such an idiot.
Back home in my room, I peeled out of my wet clothes, put on my thickest pajamas, and crawled into bed. My skin was still sticky from the soda, but I didn't even care. I just wanted to get under the covers, close my eyes, and forget the day had ever happened.
It was nice in bed. With the covers pulled close around me, I could tune out everything else. I felt warm and safe. I guess there's a reason they call it a comforter.
I determined to stay right there for the rest of my natural life.