Archie's old friend comes into the picture and Atlanta gets a wee bit jealous.
“I think it’s really sweet that you want to make sure she’s happy.” Atlanta said patting Archie on the back.
“Well, I figure I was terrible to her when we were kids, so I might as well make it up to her. And besides, she’s happier now than ever before with Odie.”
“That’s sweet of you,” she said.
“Well I figured that if she’s got someone that’s good enough for me. I think that if I can see her happy I don’t need to be.”
“What do you mean you’re not happy?” Atlanta asked genuinely curious.
“Well, she’s found someone she’s happy with, and I haven’t, and the girl I want to be happy with doesn’t like me, I think. So I don’t need to be happy if she…” Archie paused mid-sentence/step and stared and the Brownstone front step only ten metres in front of him.
A mid-height teenaged girl with shoulder-blade length dark, moss-green hair was standing in front of the stairs leading to the brownstone looking up at the windows. She wore a pair of dark wash jeans and a salmon polo shirt with bright green high-top shoes. She had a brown backpack with blue squares on it slug over her shoulder. She held a neon pink post-it note in her hands. She was obviously curvy, perhaps a size ten, or twelve. From the side you could tell that she was wearing eyeliner, which only enhanced her look of disappointment.
She looked over towards Archie and Atlanta and seemed to make eye contact with Archie. Atlanta looked from her to him and noticed a small smile tugging at the corners of their mouths. Archie suddenly broke free from his trance and ran toward the girl and grasped her in a tight bear hug.
Atlanta stood dumbfounded as Archie and this girl stood hugging each other in front of their home. She didn’t know why, but she knew she hated this girl.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity they broke apart and just stood there. From where Atlanta was, she could see the girl full on. She was stunning. Her hair fell in waves framing her face. Her eyeliner was flawless, giving her an air of an actress in a 30’s noir film. She had flawless skin, and glossed lips.
“How did you find me?” Archie asked, breathlessly. Atlanta approached the two and came around so she could see Archie’s face. He looked euphoric, though this girl was obviously alive and present. Atlanta hadn’t seen Archie look like that ever. It was a look that she’d always hoped he would give her, deep down, she wished that. She hated this girl for receiving the look she so desperately wanted.
“It took a lot of work, a lot of leads, and some luck.” She said with a smooth, honey-like voice. “But I found you.”
Archie’s face finally changed from a look of euphoria to a look of sheer terror. “Come inside, please.”
As he was trying to pull this girl into the Brownstone Atlanta grabbed his hoodie sleeve. “Are you going to tell me who your friend is Archie.” She knew her voice was full of spite and hatred, but she didn’t care.
“This is…” the girl cut him off.
“I can introduce myself Archie. My name’s Sherrice.” She smiled a white, flawless smile and extended her hand.
“Atlanta.” Atlanta quickly shook her hand and pushed past them into the house. She stalked up to her room, slamming the door behind her. How could Archie do this to her? Mind, he wasn’t her boyfriend, so technically he was free game. Still, she cursed him for not telling her about this girl.
Atlanta threw her pillow violently across the room, knocking over a half bottle of Sprite. She took a few deep breaths. It really wasn’t Archie’s fault. She’d never asked about any girlfriends he may have left at home. They looked in love, for sure. This Sherrice was trouble, Atlanta knew it.