Stockholm Syndrome? - Chapter 14: Chapter 14

Archer's POV
College wasn't how I pictured it would be. I'd planned on having fun while being a good student, play soccer and maybe get a part-time job to buy more materials for my photography. I pictured being free. I'd anticipated it since I was I was a sophomore. I'd hung to those everyday sayings that college is fun, probably the best time of your life.
I thought it would be, but so far I was stuck in a rut. I did all the college things. I attended classes, joined a photography club, tried out for the college soccer team and got selected, had a good flatmate and made a couple of new friends. College should have been fun. It wasn't. I guess I hadn't filtered missing someone terribly that I had no joy in my life.
I had been in college for two months. Stella, Clark and I had packed our bags and moved to the west coast. We'd been excited to get there, and it had been great a first.
The first few weeks were abuzz with activity, but then everything settled into a routine, for me at least. I got to classes on time, ate at certain times, had soccer practice in the evening and studied at night. It was a boring routine, something Clark, Stella, my flatmate Alexei and my teammates kept on reminding me. I couldn't find the spark that could ignite me.
"Come on Christensen, Fletcher was open!" the coach complained, waving his board around.
I looked to where I had passed the ball and nearly grinned. Had the coach not been watching me, I probably would have. I was at soccer practice, standing in the middle of the pitch. I had passed the ball to no one, and the opposing team had just snatched it up. That meant treading back to try and get the ball and I wasn't up for it.
I grunted and ran back. I didn't get my foot on the ball for quite a while and by the end of the practice session, I was exhausted.
The coach wasn't pleased with me but he didn't say anything. After five-day tryouts in the middle of fall, I was selected for the A team. The coach said I had impressed him and his technical team with my accurate passing- even long range – and my work ethic. I always ran back to get the ball if I lost it, and I covered more distance than anyone on the pitch.
I'd impressed on my first few weeks. I made amazing tight passes and crosses. I wasn't too much of a dribbler, but always managed to get the ball away from my opponents. The last few weeks had not been up to the standard I set. He was probably having second thoughts about me now.
I trudged my way to the locker room. As I entered someone squeezed into the door besides me.
"One-hit wonder", he whispered harshly.
I didn't have to look at the person to know who it was. Konstantin Kreisler was one of my teammates. He was lethal on the ball and a lot of praise was heaped on him, both by fellow teammates and the coaching staff. He was a good and good-looking striker. His ego was too huge to be contained.
I didn't like him and he didn't like me. From our first day on the pitch we had a mutual dislike for each other. He looked down on everyone, needing to say how good he was every few seconds. He for some reason considered me a threat, so he always felt the need to tell me when I did something wrong. I wanted to punch him a lot of times, but of course I didn't. As if sensing the tension, the coach always put us in different teams when we practiced.
I rolled my eyes in reply to his comment.
"Many people are like you. They impress in the tryouts and then fail to deliver", he said. I guess he didn't get the hint that I didn't want to talk to him.
I walked to my locker and put my soccer boots in, removing my towel and shower gel.
"How on earth do you miss a simple pass?"
"The same way God missed when he placed your nose", I retorted. Konstantin's nose was a little bit to the left, something that wasn't easily noticeable. I'd noticed because he was always in my face.
"What the fuck? My nose is fine"
"Yep, keep telling yourself that", I said as I walked away from him.
I hit the showers. I took longer than necessary, enjoying the warm stream of water that touched my body. I thought back to the pass I entirely misjudged. I made mistakes, it was common in soccer. But Konstantin was right; it had been a simple pass. Dirk Fletcher was unmarked and only a few feet away. I was unmarked too. I only had to pass the ball to him and run forward, from which I would intercept his pass. The coach's style was a form of Tiki-taka, something I was all too familiar with.
But somehow I'd misplaced that simple pass. I derived comfort in knowing that it was just practice soccer, but I couldn't make mistakes like that. I had to get my head in the game. The divisions were starting soon. Our opening match was only 3 weeks away. I had to be on the starting line-up or I might as well just quit.
When I exited the showers, I talked to some of the guys as I was dressing. That day was our last practice session for the week. We had three each week, Mondays to Wednesdays. The conversation soon dwindled and disappeared as we all headed out.
Konstantin ran to catch up with me. The sun had just set. It was a little dark. I only had to walk a short distance to my apartment so I wasn't bothered.
"If you want to have a go again about my passing skills, you can run back where you came from", I said to the guy who had just caught up with me.
He grunted. "I would but I have a pressing question".
"Shoot".
"Are you gay?"
He was definitely a straight shooter.
"Yes", I said clearly.
"Explains the passing", he said.
I stopped walking; turning so I could properly face him. "What the fuck did you say?"
"You are a girl, explains why you can't kick the ball properly", he said confidently.
I think I prayed a little inside my head for my control to override the desire to punch him. Inside I was fuming and screaming a thousand insults.
"For your information", I started. "That is a stereotypical thing to say. I know girls who can kick the ball better than you. Second, being gay doesn't make me a girl. Get your fucking facts straight before letting that crappy mouth of yours open so you don't spew vomit next time".
I didn't stay another second or surely I would have beaten him to a pulp. The nerve of that boy! People like that irritated the hell out of me. In this 21st century with information available almost everywhere, people chose to be so ignorant and submit to their Neanderthal primal ways. It was disgusting.
I was huffing when I got to my apartment. I closed the door a little too harshly and hoped Alex wasn't in. He was in, and his eyes were glued on me as soon as the door was closed. He was alert.
"Hey", I said softly, trying to move his eyes away from me, or at least soften them.
He was sitting on a small couch he'd bought. Our apartment was modest. It had the essential stuff, including a living area, kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom. Alex and I had contributed to the furniture, with him buying two couches, a TV and a music player and me buying the fridge, stove and curtains for the living area. Other items were provided for.
The living area was small but cozy. The couches were brown and so were the curtains. The walls were painted beige. It was rather a dull room without the framed collages I had put up on the wall. There were three, two of which were of strangers. The third was sunsets and twilights.
Alex was my flatmate of two months. We got along really well. He was a down to earth guy with a warm smile. He didn't talk much and was always eager to help – something Stella took advantage of. He was studying theatre at a small college nearby.
Physically he was way taller than me. He'd be perfect for the basketball court, except he was really skinny. He had brown neck-long wavy hair, something Stella liked to play with. His eyes were the color of an aquamarine gemstone. Stella took a liking to him, something that secretly annoyed Clark, even though Alex and Stella had a brother-sister relationship.
Clark and I had elected not to share an apartment for the sake of our relationship. Clark was a slob and somewhat of a party animal. We'd end up being on each other's throats all the time.
Alex was eating a sandwich while watching TV. At least he'd been watching TV before I closed the door with a bang.
"Someone got on your wrong side?"
"That easy to tell?" I said sheepishly as I walked towards my room.
"Stella was here", he said resuming his eating.
I nodded and continued walking.
"She was looking for you", he said.
"Why?" I asked raising a brow. Stella usually told me when she was coming.
"I don't know. She said she will be back", he replied, and just seconds later there was a knock on the door.
"That must be her", he said. I dropped my schoolbag on the floor and huffed as I turned and went back to the door.
I wasn't in the mood for company. On my way I'd been glad that Alex was leaving for his shift at the coffee shop he worked at, strangely on my campus. The shop didn't close until 10 pm, because apparently students needed coffee when studying. Alex had said there was never a shortage of customers.
I opened the door to an irritated Stella.
"I saw you when you walked in here, you couldn't have been in your room. You took your sweet time", she said.
"Hi Stella", I said.
We briefly hugged.
"Bye guys", Alex said as he walked past us. I hadn't even seen him grab his canvas messenger bag.
"Enjoy!" I shouted behind him.
"Hopefully I won't get into another heated argument with a stupid customer!" he shouted back.
Stella walked in and I closed the door.
"Just come back from soccer practice?" she asked narrowing her eyes.
"Yes, like every Wednesday", I said, wondering why she was suspicious.
"Okay", she said and threw herself on the couch.
"I'm just gonna take this to my room", I said grabbing my bag.
I didn't spend much time in my room, just dropped my bag off and changed my cardigan, slipping into my Cal bears sweatshirt.
When I walked into Stella's view she patted the seat next to her. I occupied it slowly, wondering why she was acting so strangely.
"So...want to tell me what's going on with you?" she asked clearly.
"Nothing is wrong with me", I lied. Even I could tell something was wrong with me.
"Archer you are not yourself. You barely go out with us and barricade yourself in here. You don't even make snarky comments anymore", she said softly.
"I didn't know you like those", I said with a grin. I didn't want to have the conversation.
"Are you missing Len?" she went straight to the point.
I shook my head. I'd told Stella and Clark what Len said. I wasn't heartbroken but they thought I was. For a few days they were concerned about me but eventually it waned. We hadn't talked about Len ever since. Well, until Stella thought I was missing him.
I was over Len. His choice stung in the beginning, but overtime it didn't matter. I didn't miss him.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm sure. I am not missing Len. I'm over him", I said.
"Great. There's this guy..." she said and I interrupted.
"Whoa. What guy?" I said.
"That's what I was about to explain. He's in my class, good-looking and gay", she said.
"Stella I don't want you setting me up", I said.
"Oh come on. Just one date?" she asked giving me her best puppy face.
"How do you know he's interested? We've never met", I complained.
"You have met. Remember that blonde guy I pointed out at the club fair with the Chinese characters tattoo?"
"Vaguely", I groaned.
"That's the guy in my class. He asked about you after he saw us at the club fair", she informed me. "He asked for your numbers but I couldn't give them to him, so he asked me to ask you for them".
"Did he say he was interested in me or did he say he just wants my numbers?" I asked.
"He's interested in you, says you have a cute smile", she said grinning. "And if you agree to a date he'll help me with my freakishly long assignment", she added sheepishly.
"So I'm your pawn? You are sacrificing me", I said.
"For a good purpose. I need good marks. And it's not a sacrifice. He's good looking, smart and nice. You could hit it off", she said.
I leaned back on the couch, blowing air out through my mouth.
"Fine. I'll go on a date with him. Can't hurt", I said.
"Great!" Stella shrieked. "I can give you his numbers and you can tell him yourself?"
"Fine", I said.
She gave me the numbers which I stored in my phone, and proceeded to tell me what a good decision I had made. I was only half-listening. I hadn't gone on a date in a long time and I hardly knew the guy. But Stella was right. Maybe we'd hit it off and I'd forgot the constant presence of someone in my head.
"I don't even know his name", I said.
"Damian".
I typed the name and pressed "save".
"When will you talk to him?" Stella asked after she realized I wasn't paying attention to my phone anymore.
"After you leave", I said.
"Oh come on. I want to know what you say and what he says", she whined.
"No", I said abruptly. "I'm gonna cook so if you want to help you can", I said standing up and walking to the kitchen.
I did the mistake of leaving my cell phone on the couch I had been sitting on. Stella grabbed it before I could prevent her from doing so. She managed to type something before we wrestled for it. The girl was a spoilt-brat but she was also tough.
"Archer, let go of my hands before I smack you in the head with this phone. And I promise either your skull will break or the phone will", she dished a warning.
I let go of her hand and she crossed the room to the other side. I heard my phone beep in her hands.
"Okay okay, I assume you've already said something to him, so I'll talk to him. Hand it over", I said.
"Promise?" she asked.
"Yes Stella, I promise", I said.
She handed the phone to me slowly. I had no intention of ignoring the guy if he'd said something, so I resumed my seat on the couch. Stella came to sit next to me, too close for comfort.
"Stella, you are about to kiss me", I said.
She pulled back slightly. "I've already kissed those lips".
"When we were 5!" I said. "Besides, if you kiss me Clark will have a fit".
Her lips became tight before she said, "Answer the damn guy or I will!"
I looked at my phone. Stella had sent a WhatsApp text to Damian saying "Hi. Archer". To which he replied with "Hi, how are you?"
Archer: Fine, you?
Damian: I'm good. Did Stella tell you anything?
Archer: Yeah, says you want an incentive to help her out.
"I didn't say it like that! Don't twist my words", Stella interjected.
"Shh, you said I should talk to him. I'm doing that. Go turn on the stove or something", I said.
Stella huffed as my phone beeped.
Damian: Well...maybe.
Archer: So you don't?
Damian: If I say I don't, what will your answer be?
Archer: It won't change.
Damian: I'm going to help her anyway.
Archer: So may I know why of all things Stella could get you you chose me?
Damian: How about I tell you that on the date? Assuming your answer is yes.
Archer: It is.
Damian: Great. This Saturday?
Archer: Cool, we'll talk. Now I have to cook
Damian: Cook what?
Archer: Pasta and veggies
Damian: Okay. Talk later?
Archer: Sure. Bye.
I clicked on his profile picture. I could vaguely remember how he looked. The club fair had been on the first week of college.
"He is cute", I said to Stella.
Damian had brown eyes that were big and bright. His hair was also brown. On the picture he was cuddling with a grey dog.
"I told you. If he wasn't gay I would have snatched him up", Stella said.
"Seeing as you've never mentioned him and you didn't know he was gay, that's a lie. You'd have been gushing about him before you knew", I said standing up.
Stella followed me but stood behind the kitchen counter as I stood in front of it. She leaned over.
"He said he was going to help me either way, and you still said yes", she pointed out.
I removed frozen mixed veggies from the freezer. They weren't ideal, but any fresh produce would go bad before we ate it. Alex and I didn't cook much. Even though I loved cooking, I settled for easy and quick meals. Life as a student was too busy to worry about cooking.
I turned to face Stella and shrugged. "Maybe I need to meet new people".
She smiled. "I'm glad. Clark was about to do something drastic and take you to a gay strip club. Of course the idiot thinks all you need is watching men flaunt themselves", she said.
I chuckled.
"He makes men look bad. How did you two ever become friends?" she asked.
"I'm not answering that", I said. "Will you eat?" I asked weighing the pasta. I needed to make enough for that night and the next day.
"Yeah, as long as the pasta sauce is Bolognese or at least Alfredo", she said.
"Bolognese", I said as I filled a pot with water and put it on the stove, switching it on.
"This is why I love you so much", she said grinning.
"And I you", I said with a closed-lip smile. But honestly, I was happy with company. After the encounter with Konstantin, I had been a little on edge.
"So superstar, what are you going to wear?" Stella asked.
"My secret", I said giving her a sly smile.