Rule #25: Take Candies from Babies
Just Don't be Kind to Children
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After I ring the doorbell to Archer's, a crash of glass shattering comes from inside, followed by the sound of booming laughter. The snake peeks up from his place around my neck and glances around with wary eyes.
"Don't worry, Spots, you'll be safe soon," I reassure and shift him so he doesn't fall off.
Spots rests his head back on my shoulder and closes his eyes.
Just then, a little girl swings open the door, her dark brown braids swinging wildly. Her brown eyes shift from the spotted snake on my shoulder to my pink strands until it reaches my face again.
"Hello. Is Archer here?" I ask. "I need his camera."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Peyton. I'm his neighbor."
"How can I make sure you're not a stranger?"
"Ask Archer."
"Okay. I will."
"Okay."
The girl tilts her head to the side. "You look like a fairy."
"...Thanks."
I take her persistent questions as an invitation to step inside. Without checking on her, I walk into the living room, where most of the Raine family seems to be. To my frustration, the little girl continues to follow me.
"Why is your hair pink?"
"I ate too much cotton candy."
"I eat a lot of chocolate. Is that why my hair is brown?"
I hate children. "Possibly."
"Cool. Maybe if I eat a lot of strawberries, my hair can turn red. Or no - I'll eat blueberries so my hair will turn blue..."
We enter his living room.
There are around thirty to forty people in total, twice the size of my family. Uncles dominate the couch, chatting at the top of their voices and gulping down bottles of beer. Boys around the age of Archer sit on the floor, playing some video game.
"I brought the neighbor Peyton!" The little girl announces before trotting over to a group of girls painting each others nails in the corner.
Thirty heads swivel towards me.
I spot grey eyes, pale skin and brown hair in every corner. But none of the faces have that smug grin that I'm used to seeing. Archer isn't here.
"Sorry for interrupting." I say and then, turn to go upstairs to Archer's room.
Before anybody can respond, a scream comes from the backyard. Some ladies are entering the living room from outside. When they open the door, Buster sprints inside, his paws leaving mud all over the floor.
"Hi Buster!" I say. "I don't why you're so excited I just saw you this morning - be careful of Spots - he's a little scared because of the - holy shi -"
Just behind Buster, about a dozen other dogs follow behind him. Everything from a German Shepard to a tiny poodle bounds towards me. Their barking fills the house as they rush inside, making my heart thud with excitement. But I have somewhere to be, so I pat their heads and try to move.
"Hey guys, I'm a little busy right now, so why don't you move aside?" I pat a Border Collie's head. "Seriously, I need to go."
The dogs surround my legs, making it impossible for me to leave without stepping on one of their tails. Normally, I'd be thrilled to see so many dogs in one place - and in a way, I am - but right now, I can't afford the time.
"This is so strange," One of the aunts murmurs. "My Junior is usually so well behaved."
"And I've spefically trained Lucy never to bark at anyone. Espically strangers."
"I wonder what's making them act this way?"
A familar voice interupts them. "It's because Peyton's nearby."
My head snaps up. Archer's silhoutte leans aganist the top of the staircase. Now that I know that he's here and watching, my urge to leave is stronger than ever.
As Archer steps down, Buster quiets down. It gives a signal to all the other dogs to follow his led and the uncles manage to take them outside without much resistance. There's a huge mud stain on the tiles, however, and my boots are covered slobber.
"Thanks," I say, turning towards Archer.
He seems different than usual. There are dark circles under his eyes and creases on his forehead. His face is much darker than when I first saw him this afternoon. The pen that he usually has behind his ear has vanished. And there's no smile on his face.
"What are you doing here, Peyton?"
"I - Where's your pen?"
"It broke," His eyes slowly drift down. "There's a snake around your neck."
"Yeah, I know," I perk up. "That reminds me. Do you have your camera with you? I need to take a picture with it."
"Why?"
"To show to Peter - my manager at the Pet Shop - that I really can handle snakes. He won't let me near them because he says that I cuddle too much and that I'd only put myself in danger, but that's not true. I took a Zoology course last summer and part of it was learning on how to handle, feed and take care of snakes."
"Is that so?" The side of his lip curls up twitches. "Then, you better come inside."
"You look so different when you're sad," I mutter, following him into the living room.
"What makes you think I'm sad?"
"Well. You're a) not smiling, b) not talking, c) your pen broke and d) there are circles under your eyes - well, there's always circles under your eyes. But you know there's something wrong when I'm talking more than you."
"I'm just sleepy."
"Aww, does sissy-boy need a teenage girl to protect from nightmares?" One of Archer's cousins enters the room. "Where were you this whole time, Archie? Cowering in your bedroom."
The small hint of a smile that was lingering around Archer's face vanishes.
Personally offended, I ask."Who are you?"
"I'm Jackel. And that's my cobra."
"Please, he's just a corn snake," I roll my eyes. "They're not venomous at all. In fact, they're a common house pet."
"I know that. And he's mine."
"Then, how'd he get on my bed?" I challenge, although I have an idea how he got there.
Archer's already told me about his prankster cousins who terrorized him as a child. They probably saw me talking to Archer earlier and decided to plant their pet snake on my bed to make me scream.
Sure enough, a smug expression crosses Jackal's face. But he covers it up with a fierce scowl.
"Excuse me, but what exactly are you trying to imply?" A woman that I can only assume is his mother calls. She storms over to us. "My son would never do such a thing. The snake must have wandered into your room on its own. "
Archer and I share a look.
"In fact," Jackal's mother continues. "I can't belive you would just pick up a snake and put it on your shoulder. It could be dangerous for all you know. And let's just hope you didn't hurt it."
"I work at a pet store."
"That's no excuse for stealing my son's snake."
"I thought Spots wandered off on his own." I deadpan.
"Spots?"
"That's his name."
"The nerve of teenagers these days..." She huffs. "Now, hand it back before I call the police."
"No thanks. I'm keeping him for a few more minutes. If you didn't want your snake to get into my hands, then your son should have kept a better eye on him."
With that statement, I turn around and make Archer - who stands still with a dumbfounded expression on his face - march to his bedroom.
"What's with the grin?" I demand.
"I just can't believe you defended me." He says, amidst a yawn.
"I didn't defend you. I defended myself. And probably everybody who has to live with that women for the next few days."
"You are such a sweetheart," Archer muses. He's stopped moving his legs by now, so I'm literally dragging him to the bedroom. "I keep seeing you in all these lights. First, you were a mean neighbor. Then, you were a animal-loving peer. Then, you were my pink-haired friend. And now you're a cute best friend."
"I'm not your best friend," I say, rolling my eyes. "You have too many. I'm pretty sure you can't have more than ten best friends."
"You only have six friends, so by default, I am your best friend."
"Whatever." Do I really only have six friends?
At least Archer's smiling again.
I shove him into his bedroom. "Just take the damn photo already."
When we finally reach his room, it's a mess. His sketches are crumpled up. His art wall has paint smeared all over it. I spot the pens he usually keeps behind his ear shattered on the floor, as if somebody threw it. His color pencils are nowhere to be seen.
I stare at his room in horror.
"Don't worry, it's not a big deal," Archer walks over to his closet.
Thankfully, it's unscathed. His fancy camera lies on the top shelf, above a pile of black and white suits. He picks it up and takes it out. Unsurprisingly, the smile is off his face. He turns to me and snaps the picture.
I don't even have time to smile.
"I'll send the picture to you later," Archer says and tucks the camera back into his closet.
I know I'm going to regret asking this. "Do you need anything?"
"Why would I?"
"Because you're sad. Obviously."
"I'm tired, not sad."
"Yes, you are. And since you're my default best friend," I nearly choke at the words. "It's my duty to help. So, tell me what you want. Name anything. Anything at all."
"Peyton. I'm going to take a nap. Just go."
"Anything at all. Revenge? Pranks? Chocolate? A hug?"
"What'd you just say?"
"Nothing."
"You just offered me a hug."
"No, I didn't." I curse myself in every way possible, but it doesn't stop my face from turning red. Spots gives me a sympathetic look.
"Alright. I've decided. I want a hug."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
I sigh and wait. When a minute passes and Archer doesn't do anything, I raise an eyebrow. "Well, what are you waiting for?"
"For you to give me a hug."
"What?" I snap. "You want me to hug you?"
"You offered."
I stand still and glare him, trying to figure out if he's making fun of me. His face is perfectly smooth and unsmiling, so I'm unsure if he really wants one. But he wouldn't tease me in a mean way, right? He's not like Xavier, right?
"No," I decide.
"Fine," Like a puppy, his ears droop. "Then you can leave."
I put Spots on the bend. Then, I inhale and with my arms spread apart, reach out to hug him. But, before I can actually put my arms around him, our foreheads smack together.
"Ouch," I say, taking a step back.
"What'd you do?" Archer says, his hand on his forehead.
"What did I do? What did you do? I'm not good at hugging people and now you're making fun of me."
Archer's laughing. "It takes a special type of person to mess up a hug."
"I'm never hugging anybody again," I decide.
Archer pulls me into his arms. His chest rumbles with laughter, sort of ruining the moment and his arms are locked around mine, so that I'm unable to move an inch. Even after he's stopped laughing, he keeps me in his hold. He places his chin on my head.
"Archer?" I ask.
There's no response.
I glance over my shoulder, at the mirror. Great, I can't believe it.
He's fallen asleep.
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Alright, here's the chapter. So the snake wasn't dangerous after all. :p Next chapter, Peyton's cousins and Archer finally meet.
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Thanks everybody so much for the continuous support! I'm sorry this chapter wasn't as fast as some of you wanted, but hopefully, you like how it turned out. Thanks especially mayorga_tx, akans6, and chesters_cheetos for voting on every one of my chapters. You guys are the best!
Thanks for reading!
QotC: If you had an unusual pet, what would it be?