Iris Boys Box Set

by Lucy Smoke

  I hesitated, my hand reaching for the handle on the microwave as I watched her. My neck bunched under the tension in my skin – looking at her hurt. Pulling the steaming cup from the appliance, I set it on the counter and reached for a clean spoon in the drawer to the left of me.

  "Okay," I replied. "I'll clean as soon as I get back from work. For now, why don't you have some of the chicken noodle soup from the diner?" I peeked back at her as something glinted from the corner of my eye and quick movement had me backing up into the corner I had trapped myself in.

  Her mouth gaping with fury, her eyes straining, she hefted one of her old, heavy glasses from the counter collection and threw it at me. Instinct made me duck, my arms shooting up to cradle my head and protect it as the glass cracked against the cabinet where my head had previously been. It shattered, spilling pieces of glass that rained down on my shoulders.

  "Liar!" Spittle flew from her mouth as she screamed and cursed.

  I remained where I was, bent over, head down, eyes wide. My shoulders shook with a hot rush of adrenaline and exhaustion quickly followed. My knees trembled as I forced them to hold their position. Her ranting trailed off as I stood there unmoving. Her eyes dimmed, and she began mumbling about her head hurting.

  "Don't leave this house," she snapped once more before turning away. I listened and waited for the quiet snick of her bedroom door closing before I finally released a long held, pent up breath. My hands shook as I slowly stood and surveyed the damage. As the clock chimed in the hallway, I knew I was going to be late for work.

  Chapter 3

  Pieces of glass littered the ground and I bent, picking up the larger, jagged shards to throw away before gathering the rest with a broom and dust pan. Ignoring the black hole in my stomach that made my skin clammy and cold, and my chest vibrate with the tempo of my heart, I tried to take calming breaths as I finished cleaning. Cleo meowed from the doorway as I stepped over the debris on the floor.

  "Hey pretty girl," I whispered, "stay right there."

  She sat and continued to meow as I cleaned up the glass on the floor and counter. Though my stomach growled, I sighed at the soup and picked out the pieces of glass that had managed to make it into the cup. After making sure I had removed all of the glass from the soup, I redeposited it back into the refrigerator. We were low enough as it was on food. I rummaged through the drawers and found some prepacked deli ham. I grabbed a knife, sliced it up into bits, and dropped the chunks into a small plastic dish. Along with a bowl of water, I placed the offering on the floor by the entrance to the laundry room.

  "Okay, you can come eat now." I gestured the cat closer. "Sorry about that. She's just not feeling well today."

  Even as the hallway clock chimed again, I sat and scratched Cleo behind the ears. She licked her whiskers and meowed back at me. Rubbing the cat kept my fingers from shaking, but I felt like I could still feel the air above my head whistling as the glass grazed my hair before splintering into what seemed like a million pieces.

  When Cleo was done eating, I gave her one last kitty kiss goodbye and headed for the door, purse in hand. I paused before I left, head tilted toward the hallway. I rushed back to my room and dug through my crumpled jeans, plucking the business card from the pocket and shoved it into my bag.

  My purse was actually a satchel sewn together with bits and pieces of cloth. I had fallen in love with the design the first time I saw almost an exact replica hanging in Erika's closet and as a birthday gift last year, she had made me my own. It thumped and rattled against my leg with the tin of nearly empty mints hitting an old paperback from a library give away I had received a couple months back. I kept meaning to read it, but with so much to do, I hadn't had the time.

  Alex’s Diner came into view and the gas station to the side of it. The Carpo Express gas station was lit up like a Christmas tree even though the sun had yet to set. A couple of Hispanic kids hung out by the ice machine on the corner of the building. Two older boys spoke in Spanish next to a short, young girl with big, round cheeks and a dirty, white t-shirt that didn't quite fit. She smiled and waved as I walked past and I did the same.

  Joanna was flirting with a five top of guys – five guys ranging in age from early 20’s to late 30s – as I opened the door. The sound of Carl's hip-hop station from the kitchen had quickly become a soothing ambiance in these past few months and I was thankful for the familiar sound today as it calmed some of my frayed nerves. A tall, middle-aged man with a short crop of hair wiped down the counter, throwing a dish towel over his shoulder.

  "Afternoon, Harlow."

  "Hi, Alex."

  The owner of the diner rarely ever came in to actually work the diner. From my few conversations with him, I knew that he owned a few other businesses and properties that kept him busy, but every now and then, he would get an urge to sink into some mindless work and would pop in to act as a jack of all trades – server, kitchen hand, and busboy. He said doing so made sure he never forgot what all of his employees did every day. I appreciated that in a boss. I appreciated him in more ways than he could possibly ever imagine just for giving me my job – even though I was inexperienced when I had first started.

  "Have a good day at school?" he asked.

  "Just like any other."

  I moved towards the back of the kitchen where he had installed mini lockers to place our belongings in. I set my satchel and keys inside, pulling the black card from Bellamy out, and absentmindedly slipping it into the pouch of my apron.

  "Are you eating dinner here tonight?"

  Alex always offered to let his workers eat before a shift. He was just that kind of guy, the nice, I'll-take-good-care-of-your-daughter-ma'am kind of guy, even at his age. Had he been fifteen years younger, I might have found him incredibly attractive. It was the way he held himself, with such confidence that made him seem so dependable, but with Alex, he didn’t just look the part, he acted the part every day. His kind of self-assurance wasn't something I possessed, but I hoped with time it might rub off on me.

  "No, I'm not hungry, but thanks for the offer." Even the five dollars spent on a burger and fries could be put to better use. Yet, as the words slipped out of my mouth, my stomach growled in response. I pivoted as quickly as I could, hoping he hadn't heard.

  "Eat, Harlow. It's on the house." His big hand came down on my head and rubbed.

  "I'm fine. It's okay. I just forgot to grab a snack at home. I’ll just eat some crackers when I’m not busy. Besides, I'm late. I should probably clock in and get to work. Sorry," I prattled until his hand fell off of my head and he turned me around to look at him.

  "I want you to grab a menu and order anything you want. From the adult menu, not the kid’s menu – because I know you would." His eyes burned into me. "When was the last time you ate an actual meal?"

  "I heated up some soup before coming to work." Not for myself, but it was true and even though I hadn't eaten it, the statement wasn't technically a lie.

  He harrumphed, wandering back towards the kitchen. "Well, you're gonna eat something here. Go on. Get to it."

  "Yes, sir." I smiled as my shoes scuffed across the linoleum tiled floor out into the dining area where we kept the menus. I sat at the counter and looked through the cheapest selection of meals for adults.

  After a few minutes, Alex came back. "Alright, Harlow. What are you getting?"

  "Oh, I'll get it." I moved to hop off the stool when he slapped a hand on the counter in front of me.

  "You sit right there, young lady," he snapped. From him, the ‘young lady’ comment didn't sound menacing; accusing still, but in a playful way. "Tell me what you want."

  "Um...okay." I looked back at the menu, the decision I had made previously faltering in my mind. "Can I get the double stacked chicken club?"

  "You got it. With fries?" He was punching his fingers at the POS system that logged all of our orders before I even nodded in answer.

  As I waited at the counter, I was given a rare opportunity for q
uiet observation without a million thoughts running through my mind. As dinner time drew closer, more people filtered through the doors. Some were single regulars who took up space in Joanna's section. Others were families of three or four, with kids hanging from their parents' arms.

  "Hey there." The deep, reverberating tone that sounded almost musical had me turning my head to a pair of familiar blue eyes. The giant from the night before slid onto a bar stool next to me.

  "Hi." I smiled.

  "Taking a break, Little Bit?" I tilted my head at the pet name, shrugging. Some southern guys simply liked referring to every girl they met as something sweet or cute.

  "Sort of," I hedged as Alex re-entered from the back with a plate holding an overstuffed sandwich and a pile of steaming fries. My mouth watered immediately.

  "Ahhh, waiting on food then," Knix determined as Alex set the plate down in front of me.

  I nodded, reaching for a handful of fries. I shoved them in my mouth before he could ask another question and he laughed. The heat and saltiness of the food was enough to wake me up a bit and energize me. My fragile nerves were a thing of the past.

  "Haven't seen you 'round here much, Knix." Alex's friendly comment had me tilting my head to watch their exchange while I ate. "Where have you been hiding?"

  "I was actually here last night with Marv."

  Thinking of Marv reminded me of that morning; how abrupt and irrationally upset he had been. Normal people weren't like that – they didn't really care about strangers or about me.

  Not wanting to eavesdrop, I tuned Alex and Knix's friendly banter out. Soon enough my food was gone, my stomach full and happily silenced.

  "He said something about running into Little Bit, here," I heard inadvertently and paused as I wiped my mouth on a napkin. I tipped my head in their direction, and brushed strands of my hair out of my face. "–said he saw her dodging traffic early this morning." Alex's gaze found mine. He grinned. I could tell he didn't believe it for a second.

  "I would never play in traffic," I said.

  Alex's sharp eyes watched us.

  "That's not what Marv said," Knix contended. "He told me you nearly gave him a heart attack."

  I slid off my stool. "Well, I'm obviously fine, and I won't be dodging cars anymore. I promise."

  I turned and strode through the back, wiping down and washing the dishes I had used before putting them in their respective places. As soon as I reentered the dining area, a large table of rowdy football players from my school came bustling in. They looked around and spotted my empty section, then took it upon themselves to pull three tables together to suit them all. Joanna's lips pinched down as she watched them sit. I could tell she was torn between wanting to take the table because they were all fairly good-looking guys, or not because they likely wouldn't tip very well for the amount of work they would be. I tied my apron around my waist and headed in their direction.

  "What can I get you guys to drink?" I asked, pulling out a notepad and pen.

  The guy who had initiated the table setup raised a fist for the group to quiet. It was surprising that the rest of his rather loud group actually listened, their roar lowering from yelling across the table to talking normally. They were still loud – so many voices talking at once – but no longer deafening.

  "I'll get a sweet tea," he said before bending his head to the rest. Coke. Sweet Tea. Sweet Tea. Water. Water. Water. Water. Lemonade. I nodded after each drink order to let them know I had written it down, though they could plainly see as I hastily scribbled over my notepad.

  "Alright, I'll be right back with that."

  I spun on my heels as a low whistle rose above the murmurs. I heard an embarrassed groan from the boy who seemed to be calling the shots and my eyes met Knix’s as his head lifted, inclining in my direction. Heat flared once again over my cheeks, this time with a rush of angry embarrassment. I glanced at Alex and flinched as he paused behind the counter, his shoulders tensing. I took a breath before continuing towards the soda fountain.

  "Come on guys," someone choked out, "don't." It was a quieter voice, not the same as the group's leader.

  Instead, the guy who sat at the head of the table tilted his head and glanced at me from the corner of his eyes.

  I tempered my reaction and decided to ignore the strangled hiss and the following chuckles from the others, pretending as though I hadn't heard the whistle at all. Alex smiled in approval as I passed him even though his shoulders remained stiff. I punched in their drink orders and grabbed Joanna as she finished folding the pile of napkins in the corner of the kitchen near the non-refrigerated condiments.

  "Would you mind helping me take out the drinks?" I asked. I was always hesitant to ask other servers for help, but with my current streak of poor luck – Mom's episode, late to work, rowdy party – I really didn't feel like accidentally dumping tea over someone's lap.

  She sighed heavily. "Fine, but only because those guys are cute."

  I pursed my lips, but didn't argue. Joanna followed me out, holding her tray of drinks, and stood behind me. She waited for me to hand out the drinks from my tray before I was able to point to where each of the drinks on her tray belonged. Joanna dipped low and placed each drink on the table in front of the guys, presenting her rounded chest for their perusal. Many eyes followed her as she traipsed around the table, coming to a stop next to me.

  "Do you need anything else, Honey?" she asked, sweetly. I closed my eyes, refusing to let them roll as I took a deep breath.

  "No, I'm good, Joanna. Thank you." She frowned slightly, but tilted her head towards the table.

  "Alright, no problem. If you boys need anything, you let me know." More than two or three bobbed their heads, eyes wide, as they followed her retreating rear end.

  "Do you know what you want to eat?" I asked, redirecting their otherwise engaged attentions. For several minutes I stood there, writing down simple and complicated orders. Burgers, Salads, arguments about carbohydrates. Who knew guys could be just as concerned about their weight as girls?

  No other customers entered the diner as I waited for the group's orders to be finished. Knix and Alex talked quietly at the counter and Joanna flirted back and forth with the customers in her section. As I entered the food orders, I remembered something.

  "Hey, Alex?" Alex paused, mid-sentence, and looked away from Knix. I ran my fingers over the edge of the counter. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt." I glanced back at Knix. "I just wanted to let you know, I can't work this Sunday."

  "You can't?" He cocked his head to the side. "I thought you were usually free on Sundays."

  "I am," I blurted. "I mean, I was – I am usually – but the lady who takes my mom in for her appointments needs a babysitter that day and she's only willing to help me out if I can babysit when she needs me. Do you mind? I can find someone to cover the shift if you need–"

  He waved his hand in front of my face, cutting me off. "No. No. It's fine. Don't worry about it." Alex stepped across the aisle to the drink dispenser to refill a glass with Sweet Tea before returning to set it down in front of Knix.

  "I'm gonna head back and see if Carl needs any help. Harlow, stay here and watch the counter for me, will you?" I shuffled over to take his place in front of Knix as he pivoted towards the kitchen.

  "Nice guy."

  "Who? Alex?" Of course he meant Alex. Who else could he mean? I mentally slapped myself upside the head while trying to control the blush I could feel spreading up my neck and across my cheeks again.

  Knix chuckled. "Yeah, Alex. I've known him for quite a while."

  "I’ve never seen you in here before, not until last night," I said. "How did you meet?"

  "We work for the same organization."

  "You're into real estate?" That was the only other specific work that I knew Alex did, but for some reason, looking at Knix – his height, his width, his stark appearance – he didn't strike me as the real estate type.

  "Not exactly." He leaned forward and raised his
glass to his lips.

  My eyes followed as a bead of condensation slipped slowly down the outside. Before I could ask another question one of the football players called me over.

  I didn't get a second more to myself until well after Knix had paid Alex his tab and left. Between running food, bussing tables with Alex, and seating customers, my break came well after the sun had set. I glanced up as a strike of bright light flashed across the windows. A few seconds later, a crack and thunder rolled through. I sighed.

  "Do you want a lift home?" I paused as Alex locked the door to his back office, set in the corner of the kitchen, with two blind covered windows looking into the area.

  I hefted my satchel over my shoulder. My eyes were drooping, my neck hurt, and I was more than ready to crawl into bed. Not only that, but I really didn't want to walk home in the rain tonight. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble," I relented.

  Alex smiled and patted the top of my head as he passed by. "Not at all, Squirt. Let's go."

  He led me outside to his truck, opening the door for me, and even assisting me into the cab as the rain poured down. A thirty-minute walk took much less time in a truck, and when Alex's headlights flashed over my mailbox, I unbuckled my seatbelt, said a hurried goodbye, and practically sprinted for my front door. He waited patiently until I had the door unlocked before backing up and turning out of the driveway.

  The house smelled like dust and dollar store hand soap. I passed my mom's room without much fanfare, the light sounds of snoring from beneath her door telling me that she was oblivious to the rocking rainfall outside. Falling face first into my bed, I struggled to reach up and make sure my alarm clock was set for an hour before the bus would arrive in the morning and then sank into blissful sleep.

  Chapter 4

  The baking heat of the school's outdoor courtyard was only a prediction of the oncoming summer. The polarizing, damp, humidity had escalated so badly within past weeks, it had driven most of the usual courtyard inhabitants indoors. Even though there had been a sparse few summer showers the night before, the sun beat down on the remainder of the outside occupants, hot and angry.