by KB Benson
“I have a question for you,” I ask.
“Go for it,” Iris says, still wary I might jump at her again.
“This is a real question, so you can relax.”
A laugh escapes between Iris’ full lips. “Okay.”
“Will you go to the Winter Formal Dance with me?”
Iris lies silent in my arms. I’m not sure if she’s thinking about it or if she didn’t hear me. I wait for a long minute before opening my mouth to ask again.
“I can’t,” she says. “I’m sorry. I don’t go to the school dances.”
“Any of them?” I try to hide my disappointment but know I’m not doing too well of a job at it.
Iris shakes her head. “No, none.”
“How come?” I can’t help but ask.
“It’s just… why would I? Besides, I actually already have plans that night and it would feel wrong to break them for a dance.”
“Well, first of all, because they’re fun. But I get it if you already have plans. Another time, then.”
Iris nods. “Another time.”
We lie under the stars for a few minutes before I can’t hold in my curiosity anymore. “I hope you’re doing something fun to miss a school dance. I mean, where else can you find good food, awkward teenagers, and music?”
Iris smiles. “Actually, exactly where I’m going.”
I prop myself up on my elbow and gasp in mock offense. “Another school’s winter dance?”
“But of course. Where else?” I elbow Jace’s arm and sit up. “Actually, I signed up to serve at the soup kitchen. Surprisingly it’s pretty good, and there are quite a few awkward teenagers and little kids that come through the line; and sometimes the owner lets us put on music. So, technically I’m still going to a school dance.”
“Wow, the soup kitchen. I didn’t know you did that.”
“Whenever there’s a school dance and sometimes in my free evenings.”
“I had no idea. That’s really cool.”
Iris shrugs. “It makes me feel better. These people have literally nothing, and it’s a small way I can give something back. It’s not much, but it’s something.”
This girl is beautiful and cares about other people? You don’t find those two traits together often.
“Any chance the soup kitchen would need an extra pair of hands that night?” I ask. “Now that I think about it, you’re right. The Winter Formal sounds overrated.”
“You’d skip the dance of the year to come serve food at a soup kitchen?”
“You’ll be there, right?”
“Right.”
“Then I’ll be there. Besides, I do like little kids, and it’s been awhile since I’ve seen any of my cousins so I’m due for some kid-time. Maybe we can see if we can make one of their nights.”
Now Iris stares at me. She sits in silence for just a few minutes before nodding. “Okay, you should come with me. We’ll make a night of it.”
“Awesome.”
Iris lies back down and we watch the stars for a while longer. I mindlessly pick up loose strands of her soft hair and let it slip through my fingers as I let it go. Her scent overwhelms me: raspberry and pine standing out more than ever in this secluded, natural place. I breathe it in, remembering how I’d smelled it when we first met.
I don’t know how long we lie there, staring into the sky, filling the silence with meaningless chatter. When we fall into silence again, I sit up.
“What’s wrong?” Iris asks.
“Nothing. Everything is perfect tonight.” I walk to the other edge of the blankets where I’d hidden a stereo next to a boulder. I hook up my iPhone and push play. Death Cab for Cutie starts playing one of my favorite songs: I Will Follow You Into The Dark.
“May I?” I hold my hand out to Iris.
Her brows pinch together, but she gently takes my hand. I pull her to her feet and wrap my arm around her waist. I hold her other hand in the air. We rock back and forth as we get a feel for the way each of our body’s move. Gently I pull her closer to me, our bodies touching as we sway together. I spin Iris out and then back in toward my chest, catching her backward. She smiles, peering over her shoulder at me. I smile and start to sing along with the main singer. Her smile brightens and her eyes sparkle wildly. I spin her out one more time and bring her in to face me again. This time she pulls her body closer to mine, her arm wrapping around my neck.
Iris stares into my eyes for a moment, her beauty intensifying in the moonlight. Her dark hair flows endlessly into the blackness, her eyes holding mine. I start singing the chorus, Iris’ smile never fading. I touch her chin and lead her lips to mine. Our lips meet with a soft kiss. I pull away and Iris rests her head on my shoulder, tucking it just below my neck. I rest my head on top of hers. We rock back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until the song ends.
Iris doesn’t let go of me when the music stops. I keep my arm locked around her, too. She stretches up onto her tiptoes so she can reach my ear with her lips.
“Don’t ever let me lose you.” She softly rests her feet back onto our pile of blankets.
I lower my head and gently press my lips to hers again. The impact of her kiss is just as strong as it was the first time we kissed. Her petal-like lips surround mine with ease and comfort. Her tongue brushes my bottom lip, fire trailing behind it. I hold her face between my hands as I kiss her a few more times. When she pulls away, her eyes sparkle. She smiles and, within seconds, her eyes return to normal.
When Iris can no longer keep her eyes open, we decide to head back home. I throw all our blankets and gear in the bed of the truck and we take off. This is the latest Iris has ever stayed out with me before. As we drive home, her head nods to the side. She keeps bobbing it back up, trying to stay awake.
“Iris, you can sleep. It’s okay.”
“No, no. I’ll stay awake so you don’t have to drive home alone.” Within the next five minutes, she’s fast asleep.
The drive home is only about thirty minutes. Every light I hit, I can’t help but look at Iris’ stunning form lying in the shadows of my truck. How did I get so lucky to be with her? Why did she choose me when every other guy in the school got turned down?
She groans as she readjusts her position in the passenger seat. Finally, we reach her house. I lean over the center console and rub her arm. “Iris. Iris, we’re home.”
Iris slowly comes to and rubs her sleepy eyes. A yawn escapes her lips as she looks out the windshield at her house. “Where are we?”
“We’re home.”
Iris looks confused for a minute and then shakes her head again. “Right. Thanks, Jace. This was the most amazing night of my life.”
I climb out of the cab of the truck and walk around to the passenger side. When I open the door, Iris almost falls out of her seat. I catch her as she stumbles in her grogginess. She links her arm through mine as we walk up to the porch. She sits down on the top step for minute and puts her head in her hands.
“My head,” she groans. “I’m so tired.”
“You should go right in and get some sleep. I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”
“No, I’m glad you did. That was so much fun.”
“Do you want help getting to your room?”
Iris’ eyes focus a little more and her body energizes a bit. “Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ll sit out here and watch you.”
I nod my head. This is our typical routine even after I’ve watched Iris go inside. She smiles and waves to me as I back off her porch. I walk with my back toward her down the street like always. I’ve been thinking about it for a while: Iris never lets me inside her house, and she always takes random routes as though she’s lost herself trying to find it again. Maybe this isn’t her house. I turn around sooner than I usually do when I reach my truck. She’s gone. I look around the house to make sure she went inside; I don’t see anyone, there’s no movement anywhere. Lights don’t even turn on in the house. I glance up and down the street.
In the
darkness, I can barely make out someone’s leg disappearing down a side street. It’s most likely not Iris, but I can’t help but make sure. Without a second thought, I sneak down the road and turn on that same side street leaving my truck parked at her house. At the far end of the road, I see a girl with long hair eerily looking like a vampire. I know it’s Iris; this isn’t the first time I’ve thought she looks otherworldly, but the moonlight sure does bring that type of dark beauty out in her. She slips down another street; I follow at a safe distance.
A small bubble of guilt expands in my chest for spying on Iris like this, but lately my curiosity has overflowed; and I just can’t turn away. I have to know everything about her. Before I realize it, we walk onto the sandy shore of Seabright Beach. What is Iris doing at the beach this late at night?
She heads straight for the water. There’s not much here to hide behind so I stay by the road under the cover of a tall tree. I can see her easily enough from here. She stands at the edge of the dry sand where the water laps onto the shore. Reaching her arms away from her body, she looks up to the sky, her chest drawing toward the center of the ocean. And with one breath she steps into the water. Her long hair blows in the breeze; and, for a moment she freezes, scanning the beach as if she expects to see someone.
I hold my breath; no way can she see me. She’d have to have night vision and look for me in this exact spot. Facing the ocean again, Iris takes a deep breath. With her next inhale, she lifts her blouse over her head. I force myself to look away. Skinny dipping? My heart pounds in my chest getting to see this whole other side to her.
Iris wades farther into the ocean until the waves lap against her bare stomach. She hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head and dives straight in, disappearing beneath the water.
I jump out from my hiding place before I even think of what to do. Iris can’t swim! Iris can’t swim? A memory bangs through my thoughts, one of Iris diving off this very beach’s dock into a tumultuous ocean. I tried to save her. She’d convinced me then it was my imagination, but I know without a doubt this swimmer is Iris.
Her bare shoulders slip in and out of the water as she floats and then dives back under. I sit on the sand by the road for a long time just watching Iris swim. She stands out like a brilliant star in the moonlight, and her brilliance is even more distinct in the ocean. I should walk away. I should go home.
Iris lied to me. I always figured something was up with her fear of swimming, but now I’m even more curious to know why she felt it was important enough to hide. I can’t leave. I know there’s something more going on. Why would swimming be such a big secret?
So, I watch Iris play in the water. She swims out past the buoys and rides the waves back to shore. I’m amazed at how long she can hold her breath at times and how fast she can swim from one end of the shore to the other.
After an hour or so, I start to nod off sitting next to my tree. I don’t blame her for swimming for so long when she never does it in public. But why is that? Why can’t she trust me enough to swim with me? What is she hiding?
I open my blurry eyes, wiping the sleep from them. It’s still dark outside, but the sun peeks above the horizon in the east. I scan the ocean to see if I can spot Iris. Not that I’m worried she drowned or anything—she can swim after all. A stone sinks in my stomach. Iris is hiding something from me. She doesn’t trust me completely. I stand and stretch; I should probably go home. My mom and Peter aren’t too strict; but if I’m gone all night without even leaving a note, they tend to worry and my mom likes to overreact.
I glance across the beach one more time hoping to catch another glimpse of Iris in her mysterious world. The beach is barren. I start to walk away, rubbing my head. I don’t want to think about what else Iris is hiding from me. There has to be a reason. Of course, there’s a reason. Iris wouldn’t lie to you unless it was important.
Cutting through my thoughts like a blade, I hear a pure, flawless hum. I stop in my tracks, searching for the source of the flawless melody. The notes turn into a crescendo of la la la’s. An excitement sparking inside of me—I have an idea where this mysterious and dark song could be coming from. I glance around the beach as each note cuts through me like a dagger—crisp and sharp. Iris sits on the dock, turned out to the ocean. Her hair gently blows behind her as she looks up to the moon. I step out from my tree, lost in the beauty of her music.
Words pour from her perfect lips; and although I can’t comprehend what she says, they fill my chest with ice followed by a slow melt like thick honey warming me from the inside out. I breathe through the conflicting sensations: the pain of cold; the comforting warmth. I want more. I need to have more.
She hums a few more notes before finishing her song much too soon. Without the sound of her voice, the world suddenly seems empty and quiet. My body is drawn to her, to the pain and comfort I’ve never felt before. I want to run onto the dock and force her to sing for me again. I want to throw my arms around her, kiss her. It doesn’t matter she lied to me, it doesn’t matter she’s hiding anything; I just need to be with her. I take a few steps toward the dock, crossing the sands out in the open. In my head, I debate whether or not I should make myself known; but I can’t stop my feet. I can’t stop this pull driving me toward her. The eagerness in my stomach swells and I know I have to feel her skin against mine; I have to feel her breath on my breath, her hair on my face.
I increase my speed, half walking, half running across the uneven sand. I trip and fall to my knees once as I stare at this perfect form of a girl sitting on the dock. I pick myself up to keep moving toward her, a smile spreading across my face. Just as I’m about to call out her name at the dock’s edge, she wipes a tear from her eye as more flow down her cheeks.
The tears jerk me to a stop, pull me out of my excitement and her allure. Iris is crying. A pit replaces the bulging giddiness in my stomach. I want to reach up and wrap my arms around her but to comfort her this time. I can’t, though. I can’t let her know I’m here.
I think about leaving, but the idea doesn’t seem possible. My legs anchor me to the sand like a prisoner. I’m rooted in place, unable to do anything but stare at Iris and her glistening tears. I have to do something, either go to her or walk away. I want to go to her, but she’d hate me for secretly following her and watching her all night. The only thing worse than turning away from Iris would be to have her push me away.
I try to step away from the dock again, but I’m embedded in the sand. I can’t walk away from her. I focus harder on my body but nothing happens. My will to run weakens. I have to go to her. My foot rises effortlessly into the air. Just before I plant it on the sand, I force my muscles to throw my leg behind me in the opposite direction from Iris. A shooting pain lances through my side. I gasp and clutch my ribs. But as fast as the pain comes, it subsides. I force another step away from the dock, from Iris. Pain strikes like lightning through my leg. I fall to the sand, farther from the dock, and clutch my leg. But before my hands can apply any sort of pressure the pain is gone, the bond to Iris breaking.
With each step I take away from her, the easier the next one is. The lure of her voice crumbles from my heart as though literal chains had wrapped around it, dragging me toward her. The feeling of attached strings puppeteering my actions never completely goes away but lessens the farther I get from Iris. By the time I walk through the front door of my apartment I feel almost normal again.
Chapter 19
JACE
After taking a long nap, I stop by Iris’ house before heading to school. I need to see her. That weird pull still draws me toward her. More than anything I want to give in to it. I want to be there with her, forever. I pick a flower from my mom’s garden out back before I start off. For the hundredth time, I walk up the brick pathway leading to Iris’ house; but this will be the first time I step onto the cement porch to knock on the door.
I take a deep breath, wondering and hoping I’ll get to meet her father. I rap three hard knocks on the mahogany d
oor. A muted scuffle echoes on the other side along with the tapping of dress shoes before the door swings open.
My jaw drops when Mr. Demonas opens the front door. My body freezes in shock, the rose held limp at my side.
Mr. Demonas is just as I’d imagine he’d be at home—exactly as he looks at school: dark hair combed over, shirt buttoned up to his throat, his briefcase in his clutch.
“Oh.” Mr. Demonas’ brows rise as he steps onto the porch. “What are you doing here?”
I glance past Demonas into the front room before he shuts the door behind him.
“Well...” Suddenly I’m confused, and none of this makes any sense. “I think I’m at the wrong house. Sorry, Mr. Demonas. I had no idea you lived here.”
“It’s not a problem. I assume you aren’t looking for me but rather a young lady?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Iris isn’t here at the moment. She’s already left for school.” Mr. Demonas checks his watch signaling he should be there, too.
Mr. Demonas steps around me toward the red Corolla parked in the driveway.
“But,” I ask, stopping him mid-step. “Iris does live here, then?”
“Yes, she does.”
I’m not sure what question to ask so I just blurt, “Why?”
Mr. Demonas chuckles, a sound I haven’t heard him make before. “Maybe you should ask Iris that question. I’m late for school, though, and you are, too. You better get going.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, caught in my daze. Iris is Mr. Demonas’ daughter?
Climbing into the cab of my truck, I toss the flower on the passenger seat with my backpack. I speed to school, hoping I won’t be late again. During my first few classes, I wring my hands together near nonstop, occasionally wiping my palms on my jeans. I’m not sure why I’m nervous, but I can’t wait to see Iris today. I’m more anxious than ever that I won’t. There are so many questions running through my head—I’ve got to see her.
