Rules of a Rebel

Chapter 45: Keep Secrets

Rule #30: Keep Secrets

Otherwise, it wouldn't be fun. 

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After the last bell rings, Archer and I walk down the steps of the school, towards his car. I glare at him from the corner of my eyes. But Archer, oblivious as always, hums a tune to himself and doesn't notice me. 

Finally, I break. "So, what do you want?" 

"Hmm?" 

"You know what I'm talking about." 

"I do?" 

"I'm talking about your present, idiot." 

Apparently, it's Archer's birthday today. 

And I'm the only one who didn't know. I completely forgot that, as a girlfriend, I'm supposed to know about these things. But Archer didn't mention the fact that he was turning eighteen, even though we talked the entire car ride to school.  

"So what do you want?" I ask again. 

"You already know what I want. I told you a couple of times already." 

"And I told you that I'm coming up with a plan for that," I ignore the grin that stretches across his face. "Besides, I mean something tangible." 

"I already have everything I want," Archer shifts his weight to help balance the pile of presents he's holding. He got so many that I'm holding some gifts in my arms too. "College acceptance letters, scholarships, my friends, you. What else could I want?" 

"There has to be something."

"Let me know once you find it." 

We reach Archer's red Audi, sparkling from the free car wash one of his friends gave him this morning. Archer opens the trunk with his foot and we pile his presents inside. There's some from all of his friends, including the swim team, and family. Hell, even Irene, Jake and Andrew sent him a little pocketknife in the mail. 

"Think," I say as we get into the car. "Think really hard. What is your greatest desire?" 

"A jet pack." 

"Something under the price of thirty dollars." 

Archer laughs and starts the engine. As he's backing out, his backpack tips over. His sketchbook peeks out from inside. 

"Can I look your sketches?" I ask Archer. 

"Feel free," He says easily, checking the rear view mirror. "Are you going to try use my artwork to find out my deepest desires?" 

"Maybe." I grumble, even though that was exactly what I was planning to do. 

Archer's quiet chuckle lets me know that I don't fool him. But I ignore it and pick up his sketchbook, filled the artwork he's created over the last year. Almost all the pages are completed now so I decide to start with the most recent and start with the back of the pages. 

Pencil drawings of beaches, school, friends and sky greet me. More than once, I catch a glimpse of my own face. Even though I hate admit it, it's kind of flattering that Archer draws me in his sketchbook. 

I pause on one of them. "How'd you get this picture of me smiling? I never smile." 

"You do when you're with me." 

"Yeah, but I don't show my teeth." 

"Yes you do." 

"I'll have to work on that," I mutter to myself, then flip the page. "This one is completely blank."