by KB Benson
Once Xander came up to check out our project and commented how Iris must’ve been the model for our siren because they both seemed to sparkle. Iris had glared at him, stood up and stormed out of the classroom. I’d thought it was a nice compliment, but I’m certainly glad it wasn’t me who gave it to her.
It’s a little odd—even though we’ve been working on this project for about two weeks, Iris keeps trying to convince us to switch our project idea, saying we can still salvage it and choose something different. Of course, this ticks Candee off and almost starts a huge fight every time. I don’t know why Candee gets so fired up about it. We’re halfway done, it’s not like we would really change our minds.
“There,” Candee says excitedly. “We’re finished!”
I look at the masterpiece in front of us. “Well, with the sky at least,” I say. We still need to construct the lotus flower, the mountain along the edge of the page, a whirlpool at the base of the rock island, and the moon.
“Probably a few more days,” Iris says. “If we each work on one of the remaining parts at home, we can finish it even sooner.”
“Good idea.” Candee’s mouth sets in a hard line. She doesn’t hide her annoyance with Iris very well. “Kay, I will do the mountain and the moon. I’m thinking maybe crushed sea shells—oo! Maybe even some actual sand for the mountain. Jace, you should do the whirlpool and help me with the mountain; I think we’d make a great team.” Candee rambles on, divvying up our responsibilities.
I glance at Iris who’s totally checked out. She doesn’t even pretend to listen, although Candee doesn’t notice as she’s mostly watching me. Besides, with her hands flapping in front of her face as fast as they are, I’m surprised she can see past them at all.
“And Iris.” Candee barely takes a breath between thoughts. “Hmm, Iris what could we have you do? Oh, Iris, you should do the lotus blossom.”
The lotus blossom is about the size of a half dollar on the page. It’s pretty obvious Candee doesn’t trust Iris with the project or to do it the way she wants so she’s giving Iris the smallest portion to do.
Finally, Candee glances at Iris and notices she’s not paying attention. Her brow furrows angrily.
“Iris!” She grabs Iris’ arm.
Iris flinches, coming back to the present.
“Yeah, great.” Iris doesn’t sound upset at all. Maybe she doesn’t really care.
The bell rings and the students scramble to throw their stuff in their bags and make their way to lunch. Iris puts her things in her bag without a word. I load mine up and sling it over my shoulder, heading over to her. Since we started this project, I’ve eaten lunch with Iris almost daily; and I actually look forward to that part of my day the most. The first time I asked Iris if I could eat with her Candee appeared right by my side, reminding me of a sad puppy. The lunch was really awkward. I’m not sure if it was awkward because it would have been anyway or if it was because Candee was there; but either way, Candee hasn’t tried to join us since.
“Looks like it’s mozzarella breadsticks again. My stomach hasn’t stopped rumbling since class started,” I say.
Iris glances at the door where Candee waits. “I know, out of all the cardboard they feed us here, the breadsticks are probably my favorite.” Iris flips her hair behind her ear and slowly zips up her bag.
I wait for a minute, Iris moving slower than usual. “You know, they’re going to sell out if you keep moving like a turtle.”
Iris laughs, and her eyes light up when she smiles. “Well, you better hurry then. I think someone’s waiting to talk to you.” Iris glances at the door again and then back to me.
I look over my shoulder and shrug, “Meh, she can talk to me with you there. In fact, I think I’d prefer if you were. You know, to avoid any awkwardness.” I wink at Iris, “C’mon, girl! Let’s go! Let’s go!”
A humorous smile spreads across her face as she looks down at her bag, and swings it over her shoulder. “Shall we?”
“Let’s do this.”
We walk to the door, trying to act natural; but I’m pretty sure I know exactly what Candee is going to ask. After all, everybody is talking about the surf competition and beach party coming up in two days. It’s the perfect excuse to get a date and spend the entire day with the person you’re crushing on. Unfortunately, this isn’t Candee’s first attempt at a second date; so I’m ninety-nine point nine percent positive she’s going to try again.
“Well, look at you two,” she squeals in a nervous, pitchy voice. “That’s cute.” She sighs and looks at me, then Iris, and then me again.
“Um, thanks?” I say, embarrassed for Candee.
Candee sighs loudly again and then stares at Iris expectantly. Iris fidgets at my side. For a moment I worry she’s going to bail and leave me alone with Candee. I glance at Iris to confirm what I’m thinking; but, instead of running, she links her arm through mine. Iris’ expression hardens and she looks at Candee with the same expectant glare. “We’re going to lunch, Candee. Do you need something?”
Candee’s focused gaze falls. Iris, who usually couldn’t care less, just put Candee Sumner in her place. I want to applaud her right here and now, but I know that’ll probably come back to bite me. For a split second, however, a dark shade of purple cover Iris’ eyes.
Candee stutters, “J-jace, are you going to let her talk to me like that?”
“She’s just asking what’s up,” I defend.
Candee’s jaw drops as she turns on her heel, and stalks away.
Iris sighs. “Too bad we still have another week to work with her. She’s really starting to bother me.”
I’ve never seen legit anger cross Iris’ face, and I can’t help but laugh.
Iris looks at me, eyes sparkling silver again. “What?”
“Dang, remind me never to get on your bad side.”
A smile touches the corners of Iris’ mouth. “Are you kidding? I thought you wanted to get rid of her? That was all for you, you know.” Iris pulls her arm out from mine and walks through the threshold of the room and into the hall. I quickly follow.
“Besides, that wasn’t mean,” she defends herself. “That was honest. We really are trying to go to lunch, and her sitting there staring at me all crazy-like wasn’t getting us anywhere.”
I nod, still impressed and shocked. “You’re right,” I say. “I just had you pegged as a nice girl. Not an “honest” one.”
Iris faces me. “Ooohh, you don’t know me at all then,” she says, a sly tilt to her face.
The moment we walk into the cafeteria we take our places at the end of the breadstick line, weaving around the cafeteria like a maze. Despite the length of the line, we move quickly; and almost by a miracle, reach the serving station when only two trays of breadsticks are left.
“So, are you really cool with doing that tiny part of the mosaic?” I ask as we sit, restraining myself from attacking my lunch like a wild animal. “I mean, Candee dished me out a lot so if you want to work on some of th—”
“No,” she interrupts.
“No? Okay. Are you sure?”
“I’m absolutely positive.” Iris’ eyes sparkle calmly—serious, but her forehead crinkles with stress.
“Ok,” I say, hesitant to push.
She looks down at her food and, taking a deep breath, starts to eat. After a few minutes, she breaks the silence. “I’m sorry, I’m just so tired of this project.”
I shift in my seat. I’ve had the time of my life with it, getting to work with her. “I thought you liked Demonas’ projects?”
“I do,” she says quickly. “It’s our evil side-kick I can’t stand. She’s so stubborn and it just makes everything harder than normal. We could’ve done something a lot more interesting than sirens.”
Why is she still stuck on the topic of our project? “This isn’t that bad. Not that I’m defending Candee for being a group dictator, but I think it’ll turn out cool; mostly just because we’ve got our genius brains working at it.” I bump i
nto her shoulder with mine, and she smiles; her eyes don’t, though.
“You’re right,” she says. “With our minds, how could we possibly fail?”
“I know you’re being sarcastic, but I’ll take it.”
She rolls her eyes and laughs, letting further conversation about our project slide. Before I know it, the five-minute bell rings; and despite my best efforts to not inhale my lunch, I’ve eaten all of mine and I’m snagging Iris’ last two uneaten breadsticks as we stand to leave.
“Ah, can’t let these go to waste,” I say as she hands them over. “Can I walk you to independent study?”
“Do you really need to ask? I think after a few weeks of escorting me, you’ve got the job for life,” she says with a quick wink as we leave the lunchroom.
The hallway—a claustrophobic’s nightmare—swarms like a hive of bees as students race to class, darting around each other. Iris sticks close to me as we step around a group of students loitering, in no rush to make it to their next class.
In a fleeting touch, Iris’ hand brushes against mine and the swarming in the hallway bubbles inside of me instead. Her touch disappears as she weaves through the crowd ahead and I inhale deeply to calm my racing heart.
We reach her class too soon, and all I can think about is touching her hand again. Holding it.
“Thanks for walking me, Jace.” Iris smiles as she looks up at me from under her eyelashes. “I’ll see you later.”
I take another deep breath. Does Iris know what she’s doing to me? “See you.”
Chapter 7
JACE
Candee glares at Iris. I’m pretty sure Iris’ hair will burst into flames any second. We all showed up to Mythology with our different pieces of the project in hand. Candee brought a jar filled with dark colored sand, blacks and purples for the mountainside, and another jar full of crushed ornaments for the moon. I brought other magazines to use for the water along with a bag of colored beads I’d found in my mom’s craft stash for the ripples. Needless to say, Candee was overjoyed with my “creativity to, you know, come up with something so creative!”
My fingers drummed across the desktop as I’d waited for Iris to arrive. With such a small part of the mosaic to complete, I wondered if she’d bring shredded magazines to use or if she’d actually take Candee’s suggestion of pink fabric. She did neither.
“I can’t believe you, Iris!” Candee growls. “This whole project is sparkling and elegant and you bring in that, that garbage? No. No way. We can’t use that. I’ll just go find something better and bring it tomorrow.”
Iris gazes past Candee, her expression uninterested, but her eyes piercingly dark. “You only gave me one assignment, Candee. I did that assignment. Let me explain it.”
In the palm of Iris’ hand lies the fragile remnants of a dead rose. The petals crackle as Iris moves them, a diamond stud at its center to hold the pieces together. A smile tugs at my lips. She made a new flower from a dead one. My gaze drifts from the rose to Iris’ face. She lifts the piece up to the mosaic where it will fit in. A perfect fit.
“The lotus blossoms fascinated Odysseus’ crew. We’re combining that with those sirens who tried to lure the crew to their deaths.” Iris shuts her eyes, for a moment, and grimaces. “As the men fell for the siren’s song, they forgot all reason, all rational thought and drove themselves to their deaths,” Iris speaks with reverence. “This flower represents the darkness and death each man can expect to find as he draws too near to a siren. When he does, his life becomes hers.”
Iris speaks with such care for every word; both Candee and I sit silent for a minute. “Whoa,” I breathe, “that’s cool.”
Candee collects herself. “That’s interesting, Iris.” She turns back to the project and mutters, “Nice work.”
Iris doesn’t even look proud, like she knew all along she would come up with something as brilliant as this.
“Yeah, Iris, great job. You should come do the waves with me. I could definitely use your help.”
Candee’s head jerks up. She shoots a sharp glare in Iris’ direction before brushing it off into a hard smile. We spend the rest of class figuring out how to make the water actually look like water using only magazines and beads. Surprisingly, we finish a lot of the project.
Before the bell rings, Mr. Demonas clears his throat loudly, quieting the class’ chatter.
“As you all know, this weekend is the first competition of the Santa Cruz Scholastic Surf League and one of the year’s largest beach parties at Marina State Beach,” he bellows. “I also know these parties tend to get fairly out of hand. Last year the pier caught on fire and five students had to be bailed out of jail for lighting the fireworks that started it. No matter how many of you think the happenings of the beach party are secret, let me assure you that you are wrong. We know some students bring alcohol, and just be aware that any of you caught drinking will be arrested for the evening and your part in the festivities will be over. Do you understand?”
There is a general consensus of head nodding.
“Also, do not procrastinate your mosaic. It’s due when you return next Monday.” Mr. Demonas takes the unnecessary time to look each student in the eye. After an awkward few seconds, he waves his hand to dismiss us from class. As usual, everyone leaps from their seats and dashes out the door including Candee.
“Well,” I lean over to Iris, “it looks like your little spat with the dictator yesterday and your genius-ness today did the trick to rid ourselves of her.”
Iris smiles but dark circles form underneath her tired eyes. “Yeah hopefully that does it.”
“You okay?” I ask. With each passing second, Iris’ skin pales further and the circles under her eyes darken.
She nods. “I think I’m just hungry.”
“Well, here.” I bump her out of the way and load up her bag. “If you didn’t always take so long, you’d have food right now.” I wink at her and she forces a smile to crawl up her face.
“C’mon.” I swing my arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get some food in you.”
We walk slower than usual down the emptying hallway. When we reach the lunchroom, I sit her down at a table and go stand in the food line. Most everything has been picked over already, but there’s one slice of pizza and a salad left so I quickly buy those and rush back to where Iris sits. As I near her table, Iris’ shoulders slump like a physical weight bears down on them. She sits so still, staring into her lap.
She reaches her hand up to her neck and drags her dark hair over her shoulder exposing her pale skin. On the back of her neck, three intertwining squares form an intricate tattoo. My eyes lock on the design, her skin raised beneath the ink. I narrow my eyes for a better look just as Iris peeks over her shoulder. She jumps and sweeps her hair over her neck.
“Hey,” I say, as though I saw nothing. “So, they only have pizza and salad left. Which one do you —”
Iris snatches the pizza from my hand.
“Yeah,” I say. “I didn’t think you’d want the salad.”
“C’mon, nobody likes salad.” Iris takes a small bite and then almost swallows the thing whole.
“Did you skip breakfast or something?”
“No.” Iris wipes her hands off on a napkin. “I think I’m coming down with something. I don’t feel all that great, but I think the food is helping.”
She looks almost ghostly, but maybe there’s a little more color to her cheeks. I can’t really tell.
“Let’s talk about something different,” she says noticing my concerned look.
“Alright,” I say. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know; you pick.”
I think for a minute. “Well, there’s something I actually want to talk to you about. I have for a while, too.”
“Okay.” Her eyes brighten against the backdrop of sickness.
“Well, this weekend is my first competition with the Santa Cruz Surf League; and I was thinking I could use a cheerleader.” It
hadn’t taken Mr. Sudds long to give me a call and tell me I was on the team followed by the outline of the team’s rigorous training schedule.
A twinkle sparks in Iris’ eye as she considers my request, a smile pulling at the corner of her lips.
“And then I was thinking we could go to the beach party together, as a date,” I finish.
The little brightness in Iris’ eyes dim and her small smile disappears. “No, this weekend isn’t good.”
“Oh. Okay, then.” My face flushes with humiliation for a split second before I recompose myself. “Are you going out of town this weekend?”
“No, there’s just this whole rule thing…”
“Ah,” I say as understanding dawns. “The parents. Gotcha.”
“I’m really sorry, Jace.”
“No problem.” A smile spreads across my face. “In that case, we don’t have to go together as a date; but I will definitely see you there and I don’t know if you’ll be able to get rid of me that easily.”
A small laugh escapes Iris’ lips, drawing a smile along with it. “You’re pretty good with loopholes.”
As though someone flips a switch, the little bit of blood coloring Iris’ face drains and she goes pale again. Her eyes grow wide and unfocused on something in the distance. Her breaths come in and out as short wisps.
“Iris?” I’ve never seen a change that drastic happen to someone. I wave my hand in front of her face, but she stares right through me. “Iris?” I ask louder, rubbing her shoulder. At my touch, she jumps and her eyes shift to meet mine. “Holy cow, are you okay?”
Iris’ gaze flits from person to person across the lunchroom as though she can’t decide where to look. “I have to leave. I—I’m going to be sick; I’ve got to go.”
Iris leaps from her seat and races out of the lunchroom. I jump up to follow, but by the time I reach the hall she’s already gone. I wander to the nearest restroom. The pizza must have upset her stomach more than calm it. I wait outside the restroom; Iris might need a ride home when she’s done. I wait for almost twenty minutes as girls enter and leave until, finally, the bell rings. I rub my neck willing Iris to come out. I don’t mind being late to class, but I don’t want a teacher to catch me just loitering in the hall. Now that I think about it, I’m not even sure Iris came to this bathroom.
