by KB Benson
I want to help, but the sounds of her cries make me nervous. She’s teared up in front of me before, but I’ve never seen anyone in this much agony. I stay by the doorway listening to her weep until she finally pulls herself up off the floor. She washes her hands in the sink, tears streaming down her cheeks, but no more sobs bubbling from her throat.
“Stop it,” Iris whispers quietly. At first, I think she’s caught me, but she stares straight into the mirror. “Don’t do this. This is no different than any of the other times. Stop it.”
She wets a paper towel and gently wipes under her eyes. Her chest shudders struggling to take deep, smooth breaths, each one threatening to make her collapse again.
“I hate you.” Iris sniffs, staring straight into the mirror and wiping her nose. After a few grueling minutes she sighs, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I refuse to be you.” Shaking her head, Iris picks her bag off the ground.
The pit fills my stomach again; how is Iris dealing with this all by herself? Why would she ever hate herself? Carefully letting the door rest on its latch, I race to my first class.
By the time I reach Mythology, I still don’t know what to say to Iris. I hope she’s feeling better. I sit in my seat next to Iris’, antsy for her to come into class; but that incessant pull to her is weaker than it was yesterday. I really want to talk with her before class starts. I need to know what’s going on, what I can do to help. Unfortunately, Iris walks in literally two seconds before the bell rings.
“Welcome to class, Iris,” Mr. Demonas says. Weird, he practically counts anyone walking in two minutes before the bell rings as late, let alone two seconds.
Iris doesn’t react to his words in the slightest. Avoiding eye contact, she sits in her seat and slumps. I’ve never seen Iris slump; she always has perfect posture.
“Today,” Mr. Demonas announces, turning his back to face the whiteboard, “we move away from Odysseus and onto our next project: creating your own myth using the gods and goddesses of Greek mythology.”
I stare at Iris until she can’t help but glance up at me. “Are you okay?” I mouth.
She nods and looks away.
She’s not okay. Taking out a piece of paper, I write: “I know you aren’t okay. What’s going on?”
I fold the paper and hand the note across the small space between our desks. She glances at it and faces Demonas, not taking the paper from my hand. I lean farther over and toss it on her desk. She unfolds it and scans my scrawl. Tears well up in her eyes, and she wads the paper into a ball and shoves it into her bag. She wraps her hands around her head and stares down at the desktop where her elbows rest.
Iris doesn’t respond to me again during class. I try to get her to look at me; I try to write another note to her. She deflects it all, resigned to counting the lines etched through the wooden desk. When the bell rings, I expect her to bolt out of the room. I’m ready to race behind her, but she doesn’t even flinch as it sounds. When all the other students have abandoned the classroom, Mr. Demonas walks over to the two of us.
His brows pull together and he frowns. “Iris?”
At his voice, Iris looks up. A tear slips down her cheek.
Mr. Demonas looks like he understands what Iris is going through. I wish he’d explain it.
“Did it happen?” he touches her back and kneels by her desk.
She nods and a sob bursts from between her lips.
“It’ll be okay,” he comforts.
Iris wraps her arms around Mr. Demonas’ shoulders and sobs like a child. I know Iris lives with Mr. Demonas, but it’s weird to see him this close to her. I can only see him as a teacher not a father.
“Jace,” Mr. Demonas asks, “will you excuse us?”
I nod, picking up my bag and heading toward the door. Just before I leave the room, Mr. Demonas pulls a chair up close to Iris, whispering to her. The door swings closed behind me. I wait outside of the classroom, too confused and too sick to eat.
I lean against the wall as herds of students pass by, heading to the cafeteria and completely unaware of the breakdown happening on the other side of the door. When the halls have cleared, I sit on the floor and dig through my backpack, pulling out a bouncy ball. I throw the ball across the hall. It ricochets off the opposite wall and bounces back to me. Over and over again.
When I think I might fall asleep waiting, the door cracks open. Iris steps through and rushes to her next class without even glancing at me. Mr. Demonas waits at his door, fully aware I have questions and want answers.
“Well, Mr. Jacobsen, you might as well come in and have a seat.”
I follow his guidance and sit on top of a desk at the front of the classroom. “Mr. Demonas, what’s going on?”
He takes a moment before replying. “Jace, Iris is a very special girl. Before I tell you anything, I need to know what your relationship is with her.”
“My—my what?” I don’t really want to have this conversation with Demonas.
“I need to know what type of relationship you have with her.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I sigh. “I’m in love with her. Everything was going great and then something happened. She freaked out and has been avoiding me, talking about how she needs to keep me safe. Mr. Demonas, I just want to help her. I can’t stand seeing her like this and having no idea what’s going on.”
Mr. Demonas nods. “I want to start by letting you know I’m Iris’ primary caregiver, as you’ve probably already guessed, which is why I know these things. Iris has given me permission to fill you in if I see fit.”
So, he’s not her birth father. I nod, completely subject to Demonas’ discretion.
“Iris has a rough past, Jace. She isn’t your typical high school girl; she’s had a rocky road to get where she is today.”
I nod even though I’m not really sure what he’s talking about.
“She showed up here just under a year ago, transferring just like you did. She was almost seventeen with no family, no home, and I offered to take her in. Not as an adoptive parent in any degree, but more as a caregiver to put a roof over her head, food on her plate, and the like. If you haven’t found out already, Iris never talks much about where she comes from; it’s too hard for her.”
Mr. Demonas looks down at his hands, fingering the place on his left ring finger where a wedding band would be.
“When she arrived here, bad luck followed her like the plague. I hate to even call it bad luck. It’s a tragedy of events. She jumped right into school as best as she could trying to make friends, having relationships and the sort; but soon it was too difficult. I think Aaron was the first. She dated him for only a week before he was attacked by a shark in the ocean. They recovered his body, but it was completely mutilated. A few months later, she started dating a boy from Soquel High School. They swam at the beach a lot until one day he went swimming alone while she was on a school field trip, and he never came back. That one actually happened just before you arrived here.”
“Do you think they were accidents?” I blurt, in horror. What are the chances in one year two of Iris’ boyfriends would die?
“Of course,” Mr. Demonas says confidently. “The police did complete investigations on both cases. During Aaron’s partial autopsy they found a shark tooth imbedded in his stomach. It was an awful time. Iris was in shock when that happened to Aaron. When the second one disappeared, Iris was on a school tour all weekend. When she returned, news floated around the school of his disappearance; and you could almost see her heart break. That’s when she cracked and turned against the ocean.”
“I wouldn’t blame her,” I whisper. “And all of that after her mom, too.”
Mr. Demonas’ brows pull together in surprise that I know about her mom. He clears his throat and continues. “She loves the ocean, as I’m sure you’re aware; but she refuses to get in.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“After Todd disappeared she hasn’t stepped in again. It really broke her. No girl should
have love ripped away from her that many times by death. She’s brave; I can’t believe she’s still moving on. She doesn’t give up.”
Silence fills the space between us. “So,” I ask, needing to know more, “what happened today? Why was she so upset?”
“Because of you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Jace. She has strong feelings toward you; but with her history, I don’t blame her for wanting you to stay away from her. She calls it her bad karma.”
“And that’s making her cry so much?”
Demonas nods. “That’s some of it.” He takes a deep breath. “It appears her ‘bad karma’ is no longer seeking its revenge on those she takes a liking to but on any person she has any type of relationship with.” Mr. Demonas rubs his eyes. “She told me she was making friends with, uhm, what was his name? Oh, Stewart Battingshaw.”
The punk from the dance. “You mean your nephew?”
“My nephew?” Demonas’ brow furrows. When the expression on my face changes to one of wary understanding, he hurries and modifies his answer. “Oh, yes, my nephew, of course. Stewart was visiting me this semester from out of town, and I’d asked Iris to show him around.”
I glance at Demonas, suspicious, as he clears his throat.
“Anyway, the boy disappeared in the woods last night. She’s worried something’s happened to him.”
“What?” I gasp. The kid I just punched—he’s gone?
“She informed the police after waiting for two hours for him to return. They haven’t found anything yet.”
Panic swells inside of me—poor Iris. I can’t believe what she’s gone through. I can’t believe what’s happening right now.
A hollow weight sinks into my stomach. Last night I punched Stewart in the face. I’m going to be the first person the cops come after.
“Hang in there with her, Jace,” Mr. Demonas says, breaking through my stream of thought. “I don’t believe in ‘bad karma’. If you wait for her, she’ll be there for you.”
I nod. “Thanks for clearing that all up, Mr. Demonas.”
“You’re welcome, Jace.”
Swinging my backpack over my shoulder, I leave the room.
Chapter 23
JACE
When the final bell chimes, I wander out into the commons area. I’m not much in the mood to go home and work on homework or even go to the beach, at least not with Iris’ warning hanging in the air. Really all I want to do is plop down in front of the TV with a big bowl of Doritos, Cheetos, and pretzels. My stomach rumbles.
Laney stops as she passes by me. “Hey,” she says cautiously. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” I say, shrugging.
“I felt horrible you had to bail on the party so early last night. At midnight they did a balloon drop—it was awesome.”
“Cool.” I try to pretend I’m not freaking out about my somewhat involvement with the disappearance of Stewart. I hope Laney doesn’t bring him up.
“What happened anyway?” she asks.
Sweat beads on my forehead. “I just got into it with some kid and needed to head out.”
“Really? You started a fight? How did I miss that?” Laney asks amused.
“It really wasn’t that big of a deal. I wouldn’t even call it a fight. I punched him once and he went down. Game over.”
“Dang. I’d hate to get punched by you, poor guy.”
I roll my eyes.
“Why’d you punch him?”
I take a deep breath—I might as well stop pretending. “He was flirting with Iris and acting like a jerk with her.”
“Seriously?” Laney is no longer joking, but a seriousness I’ve never seen in her before spreads across her face. “Iris doesn’t seem like the type of person who would let that happen.”
“That’s what I thought. She didn’t say anything, though; so I punched him.”
Laney smiles. “You’re so sweet; I would never—never—think someone would even try acting like a miscreant with her. Bad things happen to people who piss off the inner beast.”
“Inner beast?” I ask, knowing Laney probably has some philosophical answer.
“Yeah. Iris is great, we all know that. She’s the nicest person ever, but it’s always the sweet ones who have the darkest beasts inside.”
I can’t tell if Laney is joking or not. Before I can respond, Lisa walks up and links arms with Laney. “Wasn’t last night so much fun?”
Laney nods. “Mmmhmm, I want to go again. Did that guy ever give you his number?”
Their voices fade to a distant hum as Iris drags her feet through the hall, careful to dodge the people surrounding her. I’m afraid she’s going to split without talking to me. “Hey, sorry girls, as much as I love talking about boys,” I say with mock excitement, “I’ve got to run.”
Lisa rolls her eyes as I steer myself away from them and toward Iris. “That’s not all we talk about, Jace!”
Iris reaches the front doors; but instead of walking through them, she walks past them toward me. My heart skips a beat. Finally, she’s coming to me.
“Jace,” she says breathless.
“Hey, Iris.” Heat floods my body. Inside I’m super stoked and relieved to be on speaking terms again, but I also don’t know exactly how to act.
Her eyes scan my face, stress painting the creases around her eyes. When her gaze locks onto mine, her stress disappears; and she breaks into a smile.
“Hey, Iris,” I say again, happy to see her. I wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her into a long hug. I don’t know if this is appropriate with everything going on; but all I know is Iris is hurting, and I want to be here for her. She’s in my arms and the pull toward her is so strong but different. The manic craze has lessened. No, this is a deeper pull, a pull toward who she is, not a pull to just be near her. With this pull, I feel more in control.
Iris locks her arms around my waist, resting her head against my chest. I stroke her long, dark hair.
“I missed you, Jace.”
“I missed you, too.” I want to tell her I love her, but now is not the time. I hope she can hear it in my voice.
“Your eyes,” she says, “they aren’t sparkling as much as they were the other day.”
“Oh really?” I touch my eyes. “I totally forgot.”
Iris smiles sweetly.
“Can we talk?” I ask.
She nods, slipping her hand into mine and following me out of the noisy hallway and into the daylight of the soccer field. The warm sun radiates around us, exposing every secret left in unforgotten corners and eliminating every fear. It feels right to be with Iris this way.
I lead her to the bleachers.
“I take it Mr. Demonas explained everything?” she asks.
I nod. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah, I’m glad he did.” She stares at her fingers for a moment. “He doesn’t know everything, though, and…” she pauses. “I can’t tell you everything. At least not right now.”
“What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to think with all of these secrets?” I ask.
“I’m sorry there are so many. I promise you, Jace, this is all for you, all for your safety.”
“Iris, your ‘bad karma’ isn’t going to get to me. All of these other guys are just coincidences.”
She shakes her head. “No, they’re not. It’s because of me.”
Gently, I grab her shoulders so she has to face me. “No, Iris, they aren’t.”
Reaching up, the soft skin of her palm rests on my cheek. “You are amazing, Jace. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
I stare into her eyes—she’s telling the truth. She looks down into her lap, the inner struggle she’s dealing with coming to life again.
“It’s only because I have such an amazing girlfriend,” I say, testing the words. If she freaks, well I was going to lose her anyway.
She smiles, tucking a wave of hair behind her ear.
“I mean,” I stutter, “you a
re my girlfriend, right?”
Iris’ cheeks flush and her smile reaches her eyes. “Most definitely, if you want me to be, that is.”
Relief spreads inside of me; we can go back to normal.
“Can you just stick with me for another week?” she asks. “And promise not to get jealous?”
“Jealous? Me?” I brush it off, but the weight fills my stomach again. I can’t handle another Stewart.
Iris eyes me, my casualness not fooling her. “I’m sorry about how much time I spent with Stewart away from you.” Her eyes well up with the prospect of tears, but she holds them back. She shakes her head. “He came to visit Mr. Demonas from New Mexico. Stewart and his mom were having a rough patch and Stewart needed to get out of the house. I think this was the first time since Mr. Demonas has seen him since he was a baby, but he told his sister that Stewart could stay with him. Mr. Demonas asked me to show him around so he’d feel like he had a friend. Stewart was a little too friendly, though.”
“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?” I ask, still unsure if this is true.
“I didn’t really have much time, Jace. It was only a few days, or it was only supposed to be. I was hoping you’d come keep him company with me tonight.” Iris’ eyes fill with tears again. “But I guess we won’t need to anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Iris.”
She shrugs. “I should’ve known better. Stewart wanted to go on a late night hike. I knew better. You don’t hike in the woods in the dark without a group. It’s too easy to get lost or worse. I said no at first; but he kept pressing it, so I gave in.”
Iris looks at her hands again, ashamed.
“He tried to kiss me. When I wouldn’t let him, he ran off and told me to find my own way home. Jerk. I know those woods like the back of my hand. I’m worried something’s happened to him, but he deserves getting lost.”
“Do you think he’s more than lost?”
“Please don’t even joke about that.” Iris folds her arms across her chest.