IRIS
JANUARY 10TH, 2001

      SITTING ON THE EMBANKMENT OF THE GAA PAVILION, I waited for my reluctant chaperone to emerge from the changing room.

I'm actually really surprised he said yes. I had only asked because I was desperate.

I knew if I called Rex he would come despite the fact that he'd been throwing up all morning. Which is why I didn't call him. He needed rest. He had told me if I needed him, to just call, but he should've known I wouldn't do that.

Plus it would probably take him an hour to get here.

I had thought I'd be fine. When Aoife dragged me to this thing she promised that she and Paul were walking home after and they'd make a stop at my house.

She was the only reason I was here, because she didn't want to go to the game alone.

And then she abandoned me.

It was a good forty-minute walk from the GAA grounds to my terrace on the other side of town, there was no way in hell I was doing that alone and in the dark.

When Joey finally emerged from the back of the building, his hostility was obvious. With a gear bag slung over his shoulder, his helmet and hurley in hand, and a cigarette balancing between his lips, he inclined his head to where I was sitting and said, "Let's go."

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes or complain to him for smoking—especially so close to me—I hopped down from my perch and joined him on the footpath.

Looking wholly unimpressed with the position I had put him in, my best friend pounded the footpath beside me, silently seething while he smoked his cigarette.

After—maybe—twenty or thirty minutes of complete silence, I finally decided to say something.

"Are you mad at me again?" I asked, hoping my voice didn't show how worried I was that the answer was yes. "because I asked you to walk me home?"

"No, Iris," he bit out. "I'm pissed off because those two put you in a position where you had to ask me to walk you home."

His answer was sharp, cutting, and precisely to the point.

"Listen, I'm embarrassed enough about it," I mumbled, my head falling. "No need to layer it on, Joe."

"You should be embarrassed," he snapped, tossing his cigarette butt away. "Embarrassed for letting her treat you like some toy that she can put away and take out whenever she wants."

"What do you expect me to do?" I snapped. "It's not like I have many options. I mean, my last best friend ditched me without giving me a proper reason why."

He bit back a groan at the not-so-subtle jab at him, but I knew he wasn't gonna reply to that part. "You have plenty of options, Iris. There are plenty of girls at this school who would love to be friends with you."

"Yeah? Like who?" I asked, desperate to know the answer.

"For starters, Lenny was pretty excited to see you at the start of this school year." he hissed, tone laced with venom. "But you're too wrapped up with Aoife."

"Wait, what?" I felt my feet freeze in place. "I thought Lenny started next year because she got held back." I could've sworn I remember him telling me that and I was actually starting to get excited at the idea of hanging out with her next year.

I hadn't seen any of his siblings much since he stopped hanging out with me.

Joe was quiet for about half a minute until he blew out a frustrated breath and said, "No, Shannon's the one that was held back."

Oh, shit.

How did I forget that?

"Seriously?" I felt terrible.

He just nodded.

"Well, how's school going for her? She's made friends right?"

He hesitantly nodded and I let out a relieved breath.

That's good.

I started to walk again "and the others?" Shannon, Tadgh, and Ollie. "How are they?"

Joey let out a loud breath, glancing over at me skeptically before he shrugged "They fine."

I could practically feel the wall being built between us in that moment.

I had said something wrong, I knew I had.

Maybe because I had forgotten how old Lenny was, which I'm already mad at myself for, so I completely understand him being mad at me too.

"I'm sorry."

For some reason that made the boy beside me groan. "Oh, for the love of God, stop apologizing."

"Sorry."

"Iris."

"Right, sorry—wait, I mean—just—okay."

This was a conversation I had often with Rex. Only it usually ended a lot more violently (never put a pillow in Rex's hands when he's pissed off).

"So—uh" I went back to the first question I had asked. "You aren't mad at me, you're mad at my shity friends."

"Yes."

"Good." I sighed "because if you were mad at me, I'm afraid I'm no longer allowed to apologize for things."

Joey breathed out a laugh that he quickly cut off.

Then we were quiet.

It wasn't awkward—like—at all, it was more peaceful.

Because I am finally able to stand so close to Joey and he's actually aware that I'm there. We aren't just sharing glances across the room that usually send my heart fluttering out of my chest. We are standing side-by-side, close enough that I can see every curve on his face.

"Iris." He almost groaned again "you're staring."

I shrugged, "I'm not sorry. It's the first time I've been this close to you, so I'm just noting everything that's changed."

"Can't you do that when you staring at me from across the classroom?"

My head fell down as I attempted to hide the blush that spread across my face "I mean, I could, but it's much easier when you're closer."

Our path was cut short by the view of my house. Standing there, looking all dark and quiet as if no one was home.

But someone was home. He was probably just sleeping. When Rex is sick, he sleeps—thankfully, 'cause when he isn't sleeping he's complaining.

And he'll complain about anything and everything.

"Alright." Joey let out a sigh, stopping at the end of the stone path that led up to my door. "This is you."

I sighed "this is me."

I didn't want him to go.

"I'll see you around, Iris."

"Ah—wait."

Oh God. What am I doing?

Joey stopped, turning back towards me with a questioning glare.

"Come inside."

"Why?"

"Why does there have to be a reason? Can't you just hang out with an old friend?"

"I should probably get home."

"You could check on Rex. I think he's in his room and I don't want to go upstairs because I don't want to get sick."

"So you want me to get sick?"

"Well, I didn't say that, but. . ." I laughed.

"I really should get home, Iris." Then he began to walk away from me and I think my heart stopped beating.

I didn't like the idea of him going home, it's like a part of my brain knew something bad would happen.

I've seen the bruises, I'm not an idiot, but he doesn't admit it anytime I ask about it so it's not like I could do anything about it.

It's always some stupid excuse about running into tables or falling down the stairs.

I stopped believing them when I turned twelve.

"Please." He stopped walking. "Please, Joey. Just for a few minutes."

AUTHOR TALKS!!
I just wanted to say that you shouldn't expect Iris to be exactly like Michelle. I know Michelle is very act now, questions later and in a few more chapters for the New Year's party thingy you'll see an older version of Iris who isn't exactly like this one. But just trust the process she's only like thirteen/fourteen right now. In her cameos in sweet oblivion she'll be seventeen/eighteen. She just needs to have her character development.

Just keep that in mind as you read on.