Page 104 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
Or maybe it’s a cleaner who isn’t expecting anyone to interrupt their serenade?
Still, just in case itisa squatter or a thief or someone dangerous, I leave my baggage in the entryway, grab a sparkling-clean cast iron frying pan sitting on the stove, and follow the singing to a room down the hall from the kitchen.
I recognize the lyrics to Rachel Platten's "Fight Song," and then the voice sing-yelling comes sharply into focus. I'd recognize that grating Australian accent anywhere. Not only because I was a huge, albeit secret, fan of “Surf City High,” but also because it belongs to my least favorite character on and off the show: Archie Forsythe.
I peek into the room, which turns out to be a mini home gym—because,of course.Besides a row of surfboards neatly lined upright against one wall, the space is loaded with Pelotons, yoga mats and blocks, a Pilates reformer, and a gorgeous view of the Pacific Ocean through floor-to-ceiling windows. For a split second, I consider taking up a serious exercise regimen just to have a reason to use the room.
Butonlyfor a second because on the opposite side of the room, Archie—shirtless—is standing on a weight bench,headphones on, eyes squeezed shut, belting out, “I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me!”
There's no mistaking Archie's reddish-brown mop of hair or his lanky frame—although, if I'm being honest, he's filled out since the last time I saw him. Nicely, I might add. What I’m confused about iswhy he is here.He’s supposed to be gone. I’m supposed to be alone.
But…
I can wait a few more seconds to have those questions answered.
When Archie stops singing long enough to kiss both of his biceps, I laugh out loud, expecting him to hear me. But he goes right back to singing, totally oblivious to me. His music must be too loud, which only makes me laugh harder.
I amluhhhhh-vingthis show, but—and this is weird for me to admit—not just for comedic reasons. Full disclosure—Archie looksgood.
His wide-ish shoulders curve into fully formed biceps, which he flexes for the mirror in front of him. His waist tapers into low-riding board shorts, and when he squats low on the bench, pretending to surf, I can tell he’s got some serious abs going on.
Back in my “Surf City” fangirl era, if Archie hadn't been my stepbrother, I might have had a huge crush on him. Or at least his character, Dylan, with his green eyes and thick, auburn hair. But he was my stepbrother, and a mean one at that. Awkwardfeelingsfor him were never an issue.
I remind myself, though, that admiring the fact Archie has grown into a total thirst trap is not a priority right now. What’s important is that I revel in the anticipation of the humiliation Archie is about to feel.
I know that feeling well. I experienced it more than once, thanks to Archie.
And now, karma is about to smack Archie right in his massive ego.
He’s pretending to surf on a weight bench while “singing” a quintessential female empowerment song at the top of his lungs, completely off-key, and kissing his biceps. I’ve got a viral TikTok moment happening right in front of me.
I fumble through my purse for my phone.
Forget how Archie looks…this is my chance for delicious revenge.
Chapter 3
Piper
The last time I saw Archie was the Rhys James Incident of 2017.
I’d felt so grown up when Frankie—Archie’s twin—gave me her tickets to Rhys’s concert, which included backstage passes. I was dying to ask Rhys who coordinated his wardrobe, a topic that was way more interesting to me than his music. But I made the mistake of asking Archie if he could introduce me to Rhys after the concert. The two had known each other for years—even before they were on Surf City High together.
I should have known better. Archie assumed I was like every other girl my age who had a major crush on him. I didn’t.
I never even got to ask my question. Before I could, Archie raised his voice and said to the dozen or so people backstage that I thought Rhys would go out with a nerdy kid like me.
I was fourteen years old and completely mortified. I ducked out of the venue and hid next to the dumpsters until Mom came to pick me up after what was supposed to be my first backstage party.
Humiliated, I avoided Archie at any cost after that, and since he wasn’t around much to begin with, it wasn’t hard. But as I grew up, the embarrassment turned to anger.
I’d been a teenager with all the insecurity and longing for acceptance that any girl has at that age. Archie, unlike Frankie, had never been nice to me—he only ever saw me as an annoyance—but he’d never humiliated me like that before.
It seems only fair that, eight years later, I’ve caught Archie in a compromising position.
Karma is currently everything Taylor Swift claims. It’s literally purring in my lap.
Okay, maybe not literally. But karma and I are definitely vibing.
