I Heart You, Archie de Souza

by Chrissie Keighery

  I’m not actually that cold, but it’s a sweet thing to do.

  ‘You ready for the big game?’ Archie’s dad asks. His accent is really strong. ‘This team is beating us last time, but we’re thinking this game is ours.’

  ‘Yes, thanks, Mr de Souza,’ I say. ‘I’m ready.’

  ‘Please, you are making me feel old. Call me Mario,’ he says.

  ‘You are old, Mario,’ says Archie’s mum.

  It’s so cute how Archie’s dad shakes his finger at Archie’s mum, then puts his arm around her. She wriggles out of the hug and reaches into the basket at her feet.

  Next thing I know, I have a hot chocolate in one hand and a piece of orange cake in the other and the game has started. It goes on. And on. I don’t know how everyone except for me stays so excited because it’s ages before Archie’s team scores a goal. And even longer before they score a second.

  Archie’s parents barrack loudly. Archie gets the ball a lot and he must be pretty good because there’s lots of cheering when he does.

  ‘He’s like Beckham,’ Alice says to me.

  I nod. I’m pretty sure I know who Beckham is. ‘Isn’t that Posh Spice’s husband?’ I ask.

  Alice laughs. ‘No, Posh Spice is Beckham’s wife.’

  I giggle. ‘I’m not sure about that, Alice,’ I say. ‘I’m pretty sure Posh is the one who has all the good outfits. And since she’s most likely the one who chooses her husband’s clothes and influences fashion all around the world, I think it’s fair to say he is her husband, not the other way around.’

  ‘Does she?’ Alice says. Honestly, I don’t think she knows anything about Posh.

  ‘Yeah, totally,’ I say. ‘Like, the boyfriend jean for instance.’ I point down at my jeans to show Alice.

  ‘Aren’t they just normal jeans?’ Alice asks.

  ‘Not really. They’re a different fit. Kind of baggy, as though you’ve borrowed them from your boyfriend and they’re a little bit big on you.’

  ‘Oh,’ Alice says and she stares at my jeans looking confused, like she’s trying to figure out what’s different about them.

  But then there’s a commotion on the soccer field and we both look up. The umpire is holding up something that looks like a swap card, but it’s yellow.

  ‘Oh my god,’ Alice says, shaking her head. ‘Pezza just got a yellow card.’

  ‘Is that good?’ I wonder aloud.

  Alice turns to me. ‘No, it’s not good. It’s a warning. If he gets another one he’ll be sent off.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say. Now it’s my turn to be the clueless one. Alice must notice my expression, and for a moment I feel really silly.

  ‘I think you know as much about soccer as I know about fashion,’ she says.

  ‘Don’t tell Archie that!’ I almost squeal, but remember at the last moment to keep my voice down.

  ‘I don’t think he’d mind,’ she says softly.

  ‘Seriously, he can’t know,’ I whisper. The only thing Archie and I have in common so far is soccer and I totally don’t want to lose that.

  Alice gives me a little smile. ‘Okay, Edi,’ she says. ‘How about I teach you a bit about soccer and you teach me a bit about fashion?’

  I smile back. Alice is so nice. I’m not sure if she’s making this deal because she really wants to know more about clothes and stuff, but I do get the feeling that she’ll keep my secret anyway. She seems like someone you can trust.

  Finally, the siren sounds and everyone stands up and cheers. Archie’s team has won. I stand up and join them.

  ‘It’s very good result,’ Mario says to me and Alice. ‘Archie is a very big sack of sad when they lose.’

  ‘Yep,’ Alice agrees. ‘Remember how he went to bed and stuck his head under the pillow for about two hours after they lost to this team last time?’

  ‘I am remember,’ Mario says and I feel a bit out of it because I am the only one who isn’t remembering.

  ‘Please come back to our house for dinner, Edi,’ Archie’s mum says, pulling me back into the loop. ‘You must be starving by now.’

  I’m definitely not starving. I’ve had two hot chocolates and three pieces of orange cake. But I do want to go back to Archie’s place for dinner. His parents are so nice.

  ‘That would be good, thanks,’ I say.

  As they pack up, I text Mum.

  Is it okay if I go to Hazel’s for dinner? Her mum can drop me home.

  I’m not exactly sure whether Mum would let me go to Archie’s for dinner. It would probably be okay since his parents will be there. During the week, I can only go to people’s houses if it’s to do with school work. I’m allowed to go out on Sunday nights as long as I’m home by nine. Then again, Archie is a boy. Telling the truth is too risky.

  Yes. Be home by 9.

  We’re walking towards the car when Archie comes up. He’s changed out of his soccer gear. His T-shirt is burnt orange, totally yummy against his olive skin and tight enough to see the shape of his muscles underneath. He is completely not a sack of sad. He punches his hand in the air. His mum squeezes his shoulders and kisses his cheeks on both sides. He rolls his eyes like he’s embarrassed, but his grin is from ear to ear.

  As soon as she lets him go, he picks me up and spins me around. As he does it, it reminds me of Jai whirring me around the backyard like a doll. Popping me down, totally dizzy, both of us laughing as I tried to stand straight.

  When Archie puts me down, I kind of wish he’d do it again. But he moves on to Alice. At least I can watch his muscles ripple as he spins her.

  ‘This is the best gnocchi I’ve ever tasted,’ I say. The table is totally stacked with food considering there’s only four of us. We dropped Alice home on the way because she had a netball game.

  ‘It’s gnocchi primavera,’ Archie’s mum says. ‘Very easy. I could teach you sometime.’

  ‘That would be great,’ I say. It’s my turn to cook on Tuesday nights, but I just do boring stuff. Chops, vegies, that kind of thing. People sometimes think that because Mum is Indian, we might eat loads of yummy curries and stuff but Mum doesn’t like the curry sauce that comes in jars from the supermarket and she thinks they take too long to make from scratch. There’s no time for stuff like that in my house.

  ‘You come for a cooking lesson anytime, Edi,’ Archie’s mum says. ‘I’m in the kitchen every day from five o’clock.’ She spoons some more into my bowl. I’m so full I’m about to burst, but I eat it all because I can tell it’s making her happy. I’m happy too, sitting next to Archie around his family table like this.

  My family used to eat at the table when Jai was still home. Even though Mum and Dad were usually pretty serious, he made it fun. There were little games we’d play without Mum and Dad even catching on. ‘Pea Store’ was a goodie. You’d have to get right to the end of the meal and then wait until the table was cleared and Mum and Dad were finished in the kitchen and had gone to another room and then, finally, you revealed how many peas you’d stored under your tongue. My record was fourteen. Jai was the reigning champion with twenty-five, though I still reckon he cheated. By the time we’d waited for Mum and Dad to get out of the kitchen and got around to checking the mush in his mouth, it was more of an estimate than an actual pea count.

  Now, with just the three of us, it just feels like there’s no point setting the table. We mostly eat quickly at the bench so Mum and Dad can get back to work.

  ‘My wife is the magnificent cook,’ Mario says, kissing his fingers and releasing them. ‘It’s the reason I marry her.’ He tilts his head to the side and looks at her. ‘She is my bella donna,’ he says.

  ‘Dad. Embarrassing,’ Archie says and he looks at me and shakes his head like he’s apologising for his dad.

  He doesn’t need to. I don’t know what donna means, but I know that bella means beautiful. Honestly, Archie’s mum is nice and everything, but she’s small and round and not really very pretty. Which kind of makes it more romantic that Mario thinks she is. My mum is act
ually good-looking, for someone her age, and my dad never says anything like that to her. My parents probably make a booking with each other for romance. Maybe it’s in small print somewhere on the chores roster.

  Archie’s mum keeps refilling his bowl as soon as he’s finished.

  ‘Mum!’ Archie says, as his mum hovers another spoonful of gnocchi over his bowl. She shakes her head.

  ‘Rio could eat twice as much as you, Archie,’ she says, gesturing with her free hand to the empty chair next to her.

  ‘No, he couldn’t,’ Archie protests. It’s funny. I don’t know who Rio is, but Archie points to the empty chair just like his mum did. Obviously, whoever Rio is, that’s his chair.

  ‘Yes, he could. Rio could eat what you just ate as an afternoon snack and be ready for dinner an hour later,’ Archie’s mum argues, putting the gnocchi onto Archie’s plate. Archie turns to me and rolls his eyes, but he keeps eating anyway.

  There’s lots of soccer talk while we finish. It’s a bit boring, but I can zone out and watch Archie. His green eyes light up as he talks. Occasionally, when his smile reaches a certain point, dimples appear in his cheeks and then disappear like magic. His skin. His dark, wavy hair. His lips …

  ‘Just a little bit more, Edi?’ Archie’s mum interrupts my thoughts.

  ‘Oh, no thanks,’ I say. I look at the clock on the wall. It’s 8.30. ‘Can I help you clear up? Then I’d better go home.’

  Archie gives me a questioning look, a why would you ask that? look. I get the feeling he doesn’t do much clearing up himself.

  ‘No clearing up for the guest,’ Mario says. He looks at me, then at Archie. ‘This one is good,’ he says. ‘Polite and lovely too. You walk quella home, son.’

  Yes, walk quella home, Archie, I think, though I have no idea what a quella is.

  Soon, we’re out in the night. Alone.

  ‘That was a really great day,’ Archie says as we walk. ‘I can’t believe we won. I reckon our team played the best soccer we’ve played for ages. Like, did you see the save our goalkeeper did? It was so Victor Valdés.’

  It’s funny. When Archie talks about soccer, he leaves out all the ‘um’s and ‘er’s. He seems so happy. I don’t really get half of it, and I’m not that interested, but it’s nice just listening to him talk about something he cares about. I can’t wait until we know each other better. Until I find out other things he’s passionate about. Then, there’ll be loads of stuff to talk about that I’ll really be able to get into.

  ‘God, Edi. Sorry. I’m … um … going on and on. What were you thinking just then? You looked like you’d … um … gone somewhere else.’

  ‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘Just that I had a great day too. Thanks for asking me.’ We keep walking, but slowly. Like neither of us really wants to get there. ‘What does quella mean?’ I ask. ‘Your dad called me quella.’

  Archie stops walking. I stop too and we sort of turn into each other. He shakes his head and, honestly, I think he’s blushing. ‘It means a few things,’ he says.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like … um … “that girl”,’ he says quietly, ‘or … um … like, “the girl in his life”.’

  ‘Quella,’ I say. I love the sound of it. I like the meaning too. The girl in Archie’s life. I take a step closer to him. He puts his hands on my waist and we’re looking right at each other.

  Ask me. Ask me.

  ‘Um, Edi?’ he says.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I was just … er … wondering …’

  ‘Yes,’ I say softly, hoping it encourages him.

  ‘Would you … um … er … um … go out with me?’

  My heart is skipping. A jump rope in my chest.

  I lean into him and put my arms around his waist. His chest is broad. It absorbs the pumping in mine. My cheek rests against his, and feels soft where his is rough. Whatever I felt when he put his hand on my back is nothing compared to this. I move my head so my lips are on his lips. He has the best lips ever. Not too hard, not too soft. I love this kiss. I want to live inside this kiss. It’s nothing like the kisses I had with Oscar Poulson at the blue-light disco. They were just baby stuff. This is real.

  Archie pulls away first. ‘So, is that a yes?’ he asks.

  ‘It’s totally a yes,’ I reply.

  ‘So, how was Hazel’s?’ Mum asks. Dad is asleep on the couch. Mum’s sitting next to him in one of the armchairs. She’s wearing her old-person’s glasses and has an open book in her hands.

  ‘Good,’ I say. I’m still floating. In that kiss. In my new life as Archie de Souza’s girlfriend.

  ‘What did you have for dinner?’ she asks.

  ‘Gnocchi,’ I reply. ‘Gnocchi primavera.’ I say it with an Italian accent but Mum doesn’t seem to notice.

  ‘That’s nice,’ Mum says. ‘I hope you’ve done all your homework. And have you got your uniform and everything ready for tomorrow?’

  ‘I’m ready for tomorrow,’ I say. I’ve never been more ready for a Monday. If I could go to school right now, I would. Just to see Archie again. ‘Absolutely.’

  As if it isn’t already bad enough to have a double maths period first thing on Monday morning, Mr C is on my back. It’s all, ‘Where are you up to, Edi?’ and ‘Keep your focus, Edi,’ which is totally not fair.

  Nick gets away with being really noisy as usual and I know he can’t really help it because of his Down syndrome, but there are definitely double standards in this classroom. Heaps of other kids get away with talking too. I bet Dad freaked Mr C at the parent—teacher interview.

  I get through two whole pages of the textbook, which puts me in front of everyone else at my table. When I get to chapter six, Mr C moves me to Alice’s table because she’s the only other girl who’s up to it.

  Alice is really keen and she never gets distracted. It’s a bit boring, but I don’t really care about being moved. I told the girls that Archie and I are together and they keep hassling me to go through every little detail of how it happened. It’s nice just having some bits to myself. Or between Archie and me anyway.

  ‘Who’s coming down to the tree?’ I ask at lunchtime when we’re at the lockers. I reckon Archie will be there. He normally plays soccer but I’m pretty sure that today will be different, seeing as we’re going out together now.

  ‘Not me,’ Hazel says. ‘I don’t really like it down there, Edi. And I’m going to meet up with Leo at the canteen.’

  ‘Me too,’ Jess says and launches into a long explanation about why she wants to hang out with Leo and Hazel. I don’t really listen because I know she’s just being a chicken. Everyone down at the tree is from the year above us and some of the girls aren’t very friendly.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Limps says. Olympia can get a bit annoying sometimes, but she’s always there for me.

  There are actually no guys down at the tree. Just the girls who always hang out at the bench. As we walk past them, Eliza, the girl who organised truth or dare at Archie’s party, is talking. When she sees us, she stops speaking and gives us a look. A definite what do you think you’re doing here? look.

  Olympia and I ignore her, and lean against the tree, waiting for Archie to show. We can hear Eliza from here, though we can’t see her face.

  ‘Anyway,’ she says, ‘so, everyone’s been hassling Nelson to show them some proof.’

  I catch on to what she’s on about. I remember Nelson bragging about hooking up with some really hot girl when we played truth or dare at Archie’s party.

  ‘So,’ Eliza continues, ‘he shows Pezza this photo on his laptop and Pezza copies and pastes it and writes “Nelson’s Fling” at the bottom and forwards it to everyone.’

  ‘Yeah, I got that photo,’ someone says. ‘I have to admit, she was pretty hot. And did you see that white bikini?’

  ‘Der,’ Eliza says, ‘everybody got it. But the thing is that one of the guys had seen that shot on the net. It was a Victoria’s Secret model!’

  ‘Oh, so she wasn�
�t his girlfriend after all,’ someone says.

  Eliza groans. ‘Thanks for that, Captain Obvious,’ she says, harshly. I have a feeling that the other girl might be a bit like Jess, as in a bit slow to get things sometimes. ‘Anyway, now everyone knows what a loser Nelson is,’ Eliza concludes.

  Even though I don’t like Nelson, since he was the idiot who wrote something nasty about Hazel on the hot list, I actually feel a bit sorry for him.

  Olympia speaks up. ‘Nelson wrote something horrible about a friend of ours.’ I’m shocked she says that.

  Eliza swings around and gives us a foul look that has Olympia taking a step backwards and practically jamming herself against the tree. ‘Are you kids still here?’ Eliza says.

  I wish Olympia hadn’t drawn attention to us, but I’m annoyed at Eliza calling us kids. It’s so patronising.

  ‘We’re waiting for Archie,’ I say. I can feel Olympia bristling next to me.

  ‘Edi’s going out with him,’ Olympia says, taking that step forward to stand beside me again.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Eliza says sarcastically, and when she gets up and walks towards me I feel like it’s going to be on. I’m not going to back away from her anyway. I make sure I’m standing very straight and I’m pleased that I’m actually taller than her, even though she’s older.

  ‘Of course, I already knew that,’ she says. ‘I know everything about Archie because he tells me. We hang out together all the time.’ She narrows her eyes and puts a hand on her hip. ‘We spend, like, so much time together now that we’re doing this intense project for our science elective.’ She drops her hand. ‘There’s no point trying to explain it to you. You’ll get to it next year.’

  ‘He tells Edi everything too,’ Olympia says, and I’m surprised watching little Limps rev up for me. She has both her hands on her hips and her face is red.

  ‘Oh, is that right?’ Eliza says. She rolls her eyes at Olympia and then looks at me.

  ‘So why don’t you know that he never comes to the tree on Mondays? Why don’t you know he plays soccer at lunchtime every day except Thursday?’