by Cici Wickens
Cam came out the diner, looking angry as ever. Angry at himself or me, I don’t know.
Spiky took a protective step in front of me.
“Really, Iris?” Cam asked incredulously.
I shrug my shoulders. “You’re a jerk.”
He frowned at the guy. “Tell this bobo to go inside.”
The anger in the stranger’s eyes was evident. “No, I think she needs to come with me. We need to talk.”
“Whoa, I barely know Cam, but I definitely don’t know you. I think you have me mistaken for someone else. Thanks for the help, but I think I’ll be going by myself.” I say with finality.
“I…am not mistaken. I need you…to come with me.” His speech slowed. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before taking my hand. A warm breeze flits over me. With him holding my hand, all of my doubts disappear, and I feel…safe. I should go with him. “You must listen. It is very important—”
“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Cam attempted to grab my arm and pull me away from Spiky. The guy shoved Cam back in one swift move, dropping my hand. The warmth leaves me, and I find the will to think clearly again. Cam gave him a look that said, ‘who do you think you are?’ and sized him up. “You don’t want to go down this road, buddy.” Cam threatened. “Trust me.”
“This is getting way out of hand. You’re attracting attention.” I move to stand beside Cam, distancing myself from the stranger.
A few tense seconds passed before Spiky decided to back off.
“Alright. I’m not going to keep trying for much longer.” He said gloomily. His smile twisted into a smirk and his entire demeanor seemed to change. He turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd of people.
Cam ran his fingers through his hair.
“What do you want? Why’d you follow me out here?” I remark, thoughts of that brief and weird encounter already dissipating.
“What? No thanks for saving you?”
“I could’ve handled it myself.” I snap.
“Suuure.” He didn’t appear to believe me. “I wanted to apologize for acting like such a jerk. I know that you were only trying to look out for me and get to know me. I’m not very good at opening up to people.”
“Is this the beer talking?” I ask crossly.
He sighed. “This is me, Iris.”
I didn’t want to give in that easily, so I looked him in the eyes and asked him how I knew he was telling the truth.
“I don’t know. What do you want me to say?” He said while he ran a hand through his dark hair once more.
“What do you think you should say? Why do you care that I don’t stay mad at you? Why apologize?”
“I don’t know.” He said again.
I curtly nod my head. “That is why I don’t forgive you.” Shoving past him, I begin walking towards my car.
Cam easily kept up with me. His strides being much longer than mine. “Come on, let’s go back inside and finish eating.” Like I was eating in the first place.
“No.” I say, trying to walk faster.
“I said I was sorry, Iris. Stop being so uptight. And you say that I’m the serious one?” Cam’s aggravation was evident.
I pull my door open, but he slammed it shut. I cross my arms. “You’re this close to having me sock you in the nose.” I warn.
“Yeah…I’d never let that happen.”
We stand there, staring daggers at one another for a good full minute.
“Okay.” Cam finally gave in. “I don’t want to part ways on bad terms. So if you want to go home, you’re gonna’ have to forgive me first.”
“Fine. I forgive you.” I bite out. “Can I go now?”
“Say it like you mean it.” Cam drawled out with the ghost of his signature smile on his lips.
I sigh dramatically. “I forgive you.” I say, nicer this time.
“Good. That wasn’t that hard, was it?” Cam opened my door for me.
“You have no idea.” I mutter and get into the vehicle. “Handle the bill, would ya’?” I ask, though it’s not really a question.
Cam shut my door for me. I can’t help but grin. He’s so infuriating. I crank up the radio and drive off, leaving him staring after me.
Chapter 24
A Musky Glove Compartment
Iris
Today is my 18th birthday, and I’m feeling good. Even though my mom won’t be here to celebrate with me, I’m determined to make the most of it. This morning I was greeted by a text from Cam. He had sent me a message that said: Tell me if you see that guy again. Apparently, he’s taken it upon himself to be concerned for my safety…and forgotten it was my birthday. Not that I really expected him to remember.
Jen, Ron, Thomas, Minerva, and Blaze are the only ones I had invited for my little get together today. The limo is supposed to pick us up at five, so I still have plenty of time to grab Jen and Minerva for manicures.
I get ready for the day and head downstairs, wearing a blue tank with shorts and a pair of flip-flops. I give my dad a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
“I never got a chance to ask how it went with Cam…how did it go?” My dad was reading the newspaper, per usual. “Did he say anything that’d be useful for Frank to know? I can relay it if you want.”
“No, couldn’t really get anything out of him. He’s one of those guys.” I say with a raise of my shoulders.
“They’re the worst.” My dad replied with a grimace.
“Tell me about it.” I mutter.
“Did you invite him to your party today?” He asked, looking over his reading glasses at me.
“No, I only invited my friends from school.” I start backing up, intent to head to the kitchen next.
“Oh, okay.” He responded. “Well…I’m gonna’ get back to reading my paper. I just wanted to talk to you a bit before you left. You know, it’s the big day. The big 1-8.” He sighed. “But I still can’t believe it.”
“Believe it dad!”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget to eat breakfast kiddo.”
“That’s what I’m about to do right now.” I tell him. My dad never let me skip a meal, not that I would choose to.
Just as I headed that way, Charley came out the kitchen with a plate of salted seaweed that had been arranged into the letter ‘I’. “Here ya’ are lil’ gal’. Happy birthday!” He gave me the plate.
“Thanks, Charley! How did you know it was my birthday? Did my dad tell you?”
“I is the masta’ chef!” He said as if that were my answer.
I wolf my breakfast down and go outside. The weather is perfect—a little warm, a slight breeze. A few clouds, but for the most part a clear, blue sky.
I sit in my vehicle and look towards the wood-line, remembering the weird experience Minerva and I had a few days ago. It had been so cold. I sit there for a couple of minutes, watching the edge of the woods. I lean forward in my seat when I see the outline of a figure move from behind a tree and into my line of sight. It wanted me to see it.
I gulp, and after taking a deep breath, I ease out of my vehicle.
“Who’s t-there?” I demand shakily, not really wanting a response.
The figure began making its way towards me. I don’t get the same cold sensation as before, instead I feel—
“Everything alright, Iris?” My dad called from the house, poking his head outside.
I turn around. “Y-yeah! I’m just taking in the scenery!”
My dad grinned. “Okaaayyy. Maybe we should go hiking or something then? How about after school sometime this coming week?”
I faintly nod my head, not fully into the conversation. I watch him until he goes back into the house, then I turn back towards the mysterious figure. It’s gone. I shake it off. It was probably just my imagination.
I get back in my vehicle and send a text to Minerva and Jen telling them ‘I am on my way.’ I didn’t know what the boys were doing to kill time, but hey, who cares?
Minerva was the first person I picked up, since her house was closer to mine. She and I picked up Jen a few minutes later. Jen was wearing a yellow dress with green frogs printed all over it and red sandals—as if the dress wasn’t enough. What in the world? That girl is…exotic. It’s certainly something that I wouldn’t wear, but the outfit suited her in a weird way.
Minerva started to say something, but I cut her off with a meaningful look and enthusiastically said, “Wow, Jen I love your outfit.” Jen smiled, and my heart warms.
The salon was freezing cold. We rushed through getting the manicures and when the lady was finished, we quickly paid and ran out the door into the sunlight.
“Thank goodness that’s done with. I nearly lost all t-t-ten toes in there. It was so cold!” Minerva exclaimed, rubbing her arms.
“I know, right?” I agree.
“What are you two talking about? I didn’t feel cold at all. In fact, it was kind of warm.” Jen questioned.
“You weren’t cold?” I ask, but then dismiss it. “Never mind. You probably just stay warmer than we do. Some people are like that.”
We headed towards my car, and once I get in I notice that my glove compartment was open. That’s weird. I reach over and close it, catching a whiff of something musky in the process. Had someone been in here? Nothing’s been tampered with or appeared out of place. Minerva and Jen took their seats in the vehicle.
“Everything okay?” Minerva asked.
“Yeah…” I didn’t want to worry them with my wild imagination.
I crank up the car and begin driving before I start scaring myself.
✽ ✽ ✽
It was already 3:00. We all went upstairs to my room and began hair and makeup. Jen was a little skeptic about putting on makeup at first, but we talked her into it eventually.
Afterwards, we changed outfits. Jen is like half the size of Minerva and I, so I let her wear one of the dresses I had grown out of. I always knew those outfits I saved from my thinner days would come in handy. She ended up with a frilly purple dress that went a little past her knees and a pair of yellow heels—and no it didn’t match, but she managed to pull it off somehow. Actually, she rocked it.
Minerva picked a simple black dress that hugged her in all the right places. I told her how I thought that dress was made for her. It went well with her dark hair and sparkly black heels.
Hot pink is my favorite color, so I chose a hot pink strapless dress that had sparkles brushed along one side. It went a little past mid-thigh, and I wore my silver open-toed heels with it.
The limo came to pick us up at around 5 o’clock. We grab our bags and make our way towards the limo. I notice that the air is freezing once more. I automatically glance towards the wood-line, but don’t see anything out of the ordinary.
I rub my bare arms. “Dad, are you cold?”
“No, I’m about to faint from the heat.” My dad replied, dramatically fanning himself.
I draw my brows together. What’s going on? I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut, tightly. I just want everything to be normal.
All of my worries were forgotten when we reached the limo. We all squealed when we saw the inside, just like normal teenage girls. If we were at my old house, Mrs. Peeble would have come out screaming, ‘Shut up you little brats!’ But here, no one came out yelling. I actually kind of missed her and that spoiled Chihuahua. Kind of.
Thinking of Mrs. Peeble made my heart ache for mom. Every part of me wished that she could’ve been here. I miss her bright smile and comforting hug. She had always been so warm. As if reading my thoughts, my dad pulled me into a hug and kissed me on the forehead. I rest my head on his chest and take a few deep breaths.
I vaguely hear Minerva mutter, “A girl can get used to this.” I smile to myself and turn to my friend. She’s sprawled out in one of the limo seats.
We all laugh.
Chapter 25
Sammy
Iris
When we pick up the boys, I take a moment to appreciate their attire. They look very handsome. Thomas had on a nice button-down shirt and Ron wore a gray polo.
I inhale sharply when I see Blaze. He wore a bright white dress shirt and dark jeans, and had his hands shoved into his pockets. His shirt highlighted his light blue eyes and made his hair look so black it was nearly blue. I recognize him instantly and feel incredibly dumb for not seeing the resemblance earlier. “You’re that guy from gym!” I exclaim.
“Uh, yeah.” Blaze said, flipping the hair from his eyes, which shone brightly against his caramel complexion.
“You didn’t know that was Minerva’s bro?” Ron asked doubtingly.
I lean back in my seat, mind blown.
“Can I sit here?” Blaze asked, meeting my eyes. I detected a minute amount of curiosity shining in his own.
“Sure.” I manage to say, scooting over a bit.
I fiddle with the end of my dress to distract myself from his still form beside me. I wait for him to start up conversation, but he remains silent as the limo begins to move. Of all the places he could have sat. I inwardly sigh, realizing that he’s perfectly content with sitting in an awkward silence. I glance around to see what everyone else was doing. Ron was completely zoned into the football game playing on the TV, sometimes shouting something at the screen, and Thomas was secretly video recording him. Thomas caught me watching him and gave me a quick grin. I smile back at him, and he goes back to recording Ron. Thomas would no doubt tease him about the video later. Minerva and Jen were chatting with one another. I wish I was too.
“So…you like to run?” I question lightly.
“I guess.” He said with a shrug.
I wait for him to ask me if I like to run. He doesn’t. I watch him from the corner of my eye. He had started to bounce his leg up and down.
“Are you worried about something?” I inquire, referring to the bounce of his leg.
He sighed loudly. “No, I’m just irritated.”
I cringe at his response. I begin to see the signs of a guilt-ridden blush creep up his neck. I follow his eyes. He was looking at Jen, who had her eyebrows raised in a chastising manner. She had heard his comment.
He scowled and leaned back in his seat. “My bad.” He told me quietly. “I’m not good at this.”
“Making friends? Talking?” I ask in confusion.
“Yeah.” He admitted. “I shouldn’t have come.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering what had happened to make him like this. Yet even though I wondered, some part of me just knew. Understood. “I’m glad you came. And I think you’re doing fine.” I find myself saying in earnest.
He stared at me for a long moment, his lips pressed firmly together. Then he faced forward and didn’t say anything for the remainder of the drive.
✽ ✽ ✽
Soon enough, everyone was exiting the limo and trickling into the brightly lit three-story brick building. We stood at the entrance for about five minutes before a waitress with long black hair and freshly bleached teeth showed us to our seats.
The part of the building we’re seated in is decorated like an old Victorian-era room. There’s deep red carpeting and the walls are a golden color. The table is set with multiple dishes and glasses I had never even thought was meant to be drank or eaten from. Lustrous chandeliers hang from the ceiling, their crystals glistening. It’s absolutely stunning.
“Dad this place is beautiful.”
“Good. I’m glad you like it sweetie.” He replied.
The waitress came by to get our drink orders and handed us some laminated menus. “Hello, my name is Kayla. I’ll be your waitress for this afternoon. What would you like to drink?”
“Water, please.” I told her, flipping through the dinner section of the menu.
The waitress said that she was going to retrieve our drinks and would be back to take our orders.
“What are you going to order, Iris?” Minerva asked.
“I think I’m going to get the baked calamari and shr
imp platter with no seasoning, except salt. And a side of wild rice.” I reply.
“Are you on a diet or something?” Thomas raised an eyebrow from the seat across from me. Diet…Diet…Diet…Diet…Diet.
I wince whenever I feel all eyes on me. I clear my throat. “Um…something like that.”
Minerva rolled her eyes. “She can’t eat anything that doesn’t come from the water.” She lifted her shoulders at my narrowed eyes. “What? You were still going to keep it a secret?”
“Ohhh, okay. That’s what you meant.” Ron drew out. “So you’re telling me that if I dunked an apple into a pool of water and baptized it, you could eat it?”
Jen frowned. “I think Minerva meant that Iris can only eat plants that are grown in the water. Aquatic plants like wild rice, water chestnuts, and seaweed. And seafood of course.”
We sat there and chatted for about thirty minutes while waiting for our food. Eventually though, my mind drifts from the conversation. I let my eyes trace the last rays of sunlight until they wander up to a beautiful ornate window. As I think, I absently run my finger through the condensation on my glass.
I can’t help but recall the shadow that I saw at the wood-line, and the open glove compartment situation. Could there be a connection between the two? And what’s with the freezing temperatures lately? It didn’t make sense. Janelle’s strange words, Minerva’s drawings…I can no longer tell what’s true and what’s fabricated, what’s real. What I want to believe and what I can’t ignore.
The air starts to warm, and I realize that the plates have been set in front of us. We eat quietly for a few minutes, savoring our first bites. As much as I try to keep my mind from intruding thoughts, I struggle to do so. I’m grateful when my father picked up conversation.
“How do you like the food, kids?” My dad asked before stuffing his mouth full of steak.
“It’s delicious.” Minerva said, and then sipped on her tea.