Page 6 of A Million To Fall

I shake my head to clear it. “Okay, fine, seven,” I say quickly, surprised by this entire interaction. I turn to run the rest of the way to my classroom, but Archer reaches for my wrist and pulls me back around.

“Seven,” he says, then stamps a kiss on my cheek.

Matter closed, I guess.

three

Skye

There’s a knock on the front door at exactly seven o’clock. I take one last peek in my floor-length mirror, then hurry down the stairs.

My dad beats me to the door.

“Good evening, sir,” Archer greets him, then steps into the foyer.

My dad shakes his hand. “Hey, Archer. How are you?”

“I’m great, sir. How about you?”

He looks good in a pair of dark-washed jeans and a soft-looking quarter-zip Ralph Lauren sweater.

“Fine,” my dad says. “How’s your father? Keeping busy?”

Archer nods. “Yes sir, very busy.”

As I suspected, my parents weren’t thrilled about this party. They dove right into their usual exhaustive lecture about priorities—grades, graduation, college. They’d just started on the supremely uncomfortable sex talk when I managed to squeeze in the most vital piece of information: Archer is Orson Longfellow’s son.

Everyone knows Orson Longfellow. He’s also a lawyer, but not in private practice like mine. Nope. Archer’s dad is the Washington County District Attorney. And I don’t mean some deputy D.A. He’s the D.A. His face is on the billboards, the campaign posters, and in the news. Tough on crime and popular with voters.

Once my parents connected the dots, I suddenly couldn’t be in better company.

Archer turns to me as I descend the stairs. “Wow, Skye. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Arch,” I say, blushing.

Lily suggested the boots-and-skirt outfit. It was all she could talk about these last few days: Archer asking me out and her wishing Boston would ask her to go.

He didn’t, which I told her was probably because he wasn’t going to be at the party in the first place. Anything else would’ve made me a terrible friend… and date.

Archer reaches into his pocket. “I got you something.” He holds out a small blue box. Cushioned inside is a delicate silver bracelet, a sparkly S dangling from it.

For a second, I just stand there. This feels… big. Way bigger than flowers, or candy, or a teddy bear. Isn’t this the kind of thing people give when they’ve been dating for a while? When they’re serious? Or at least trying to be?

I swallow. “Archer, this… it’s beautiful.”

He beams at me. “It’s from Tiffany’s.”

My dad chuckles. “Don’t you think it’s a bit early for dowry negotiations, son?”

Oh god.

I wish my parents had stuck to their no-dating-until-you-graduate rule. That would’ve been a lot less embarrassing.

Archer, though, laughs and fastens the bracelet to my wrist. The metal is cold against my skin.

“I just thought a beautiful girl like your daughter deserves something equally as beautiful,” he says. “Or almost as beautiful. I don’t think anything actually compares.”

I blink at how mature Archer sounds.