Hushed by Kelley York

Richter and back again. Archer cleared his throat to steady his nerves. “Richter, this is Evan. Evan, this is…he was one of Brody’s high school friends. Brody was Viv’s brother. The one who died?”
    Recognition lit up Evan’s face. “Oh, yeah—hi. I’m sorry about your friend.”
    Richter laughed. Outright laughed . “Nah, it’s cool. Haven’t talked to Brody in like a year. Faggot owed me money.”
    Evan shifted and tensed. Archer didn’t so much as blink. He’d heard and been called worse over the years. Although Evan’s reaction made him contemplate shoving Richter over the nearby ledge. Too bad the fall to the first floor probably wouldn’t kill him.
    “Speaking of dying, though,” Richter continued, “I totally had my own near-death experience.”
    The muscles in Archer’s shoulders were wound so tightly his neck was starting to ache. The pain crept up into the back of his skull. “Is that right?”
    “Hell yeah! There was this gas leak, knocked me right out.” He sounded so stupidly excited. “If my mom hadn’t stopped by and found me passed out on the kitchen floor, they said I woulda died. Isn’t that a trip?”
    Evan gave a wistful smile. “That would’ve been unfortunate.”
    There was something in that smile, in his tone, that made Archer crack a grin of his own. He bit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Very unfortunate.”
    “I know, right?” Richter scratched at his scruffy chin. His nails were dirty. The idea of those hands touching Vivian made Archer’s stomach roll. “Well, anyway, I gotta go. Meeting up with some of the guys. Good seeing you, Archie.”
    “Yep.” He stepped aside and watched Richter amble off. He smelled vaguely of weed and beer. Archer slipped into the elevator with Evan on his heels.
    “He seems like an upstanding member of society,” Evan said. They exchanged looks, and Archer forced a smirk. Obviously, he had a mistake to remedy.

    §

    An hour later, they had takeout Chinese from a place up the street and were settled on Evan’s couch with a horror movie streaming through his game console. Evan fumbled with the chopsticks in a rather charming, childlike way. Watching him helped distract Archer from dwelling too much on Richter and what he needed to do.
    Archer sighed. “You’re doing it wrong,” he instructed. “Position your fingers like this, to control them so you don’t keep dropping stuff.” After a few minutes of adjusting, Evan was able to pick up a piece of orange chicken. Archer’s mouth kept twitching, watching him as he clutched it so carefully, slowly, slowly lifting it up to his mouth and—it slipped out of his grip and plopped back into the box. He tried not to laugh. “Keep practicing.”
    Evan grunted and tried again. This time he got the chicken into his mouth. “So, I was thinking,” he said after he’d finished his bite and licked away the sauce on his bottom lip, “if you still haven’t talked to Vivian…”
    Archer paused mid-bite. A single noodle slid slowly off of his chopsticks. “I haven’t,” he said, and pushed the food into his mouth. Chewing gave him a few seconds to choose his words. “I’ll call her. I just haven’t decided what I want to say to her yet.” He couldn’t admit to Evan he had called her. Repeatedly. She hadn’t called him back.
    Evan tapped the chopsticks against his box. “I don’t know, man. She’s the one that upset you, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to wait for her to call you.” When Archer gave him a skeptical look, Evan continued. “You could always have someone else talk to her. She’s in one of my classes, so I could try bringing it up.”
    Well, if that didn’t kill his appetite… He sighed and set his food on the coffee table, leaning back against the arm of the couch and staring at the ceiling. “She’ll know what you’re doing. It’s always been like this with Viv and me. Whether or not I agree with what prick she decides to date doesn’t give me the