Ouch.
A keening noise pierces the air as she leans forward, pressing her hands against her face. “They didn’t even notice me until they were right on top of me!”
“Oh, ‘Rissy.” I stroke her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
She rears up, her palms hitting her thighs with a slap. A wild anger lights her eyes. “And that piece of shit, puta madre, fuckhead had the nerve to shout at me.” She stabs a thumb to her chest. “Because I came over without asking.” Her laugh is manic. “He was all, ‘Shit, Iris? What’d you expect? We aren’t married or anything.’”
She breaks into a rapid-fire string of Spanglish cursing that I appreciate if only for its inventiveness.
“I cannot believe he didn’t even try to apologize!” I say when she calms enough to get a word in.
Iris whips around to face me. “Well, why should he? When Henry is never wrong.” Her fists tighten on her thighs, and then she’s crying again.
I can’t do anything more than rub her back. “Do you want me to call George—”
“No!” She looks horrified. “He’ll just make it worse by going over there and kicking Henry’s ass.”
And George would do a good job of it too. While he might be happy-go-lucky and obsessed with finance, George likes to keep in shape by practicing mixed martial arts.
“This is a problem, why?”
Iris scowls. “I don’t want Henry thinking he’s worth it.” She scrunches down in her seat and scowls. “Besides, George will be all, ‘I told you so, 'Ris.’ Which I do not want to hear.”
Mental note: bite back any and all urges to say ‘I told you so.’
“He’ll find out sooner or later.” I hold up a hand when she looks ready to tear my head off. “But I’ll keep quiet for now. Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll get us hooked up with some truly terrible and truly good munchies, and we’ll have some quality veg time on the couch.”
Iris smiles and leans in for a quick kiss on my cheek. “Thanks, Banana. That sounds good.”
It takes me no time to run down to the corner store and fill my bags with goodies. I’m just getting back into the apartment when my phone dings.
Baylor: Hey, beautiful. Had a quick break between drills. What are you up to?
I smile wide. Shit. I am so gone on him. I want to dance in place. I want to run and hide. I settle for answering him back.
Me: My armpits in drama. Iris discovered Henry with another girl last night. It’s bad over here.
Baylor: Damn. Sorry for Iris, but that guy is a POS
Me: The biggest. Iris was with Henry for two years. She’s a wreck.
Baylor: So I’m guessing you’ll have your hands full?
Disappointment tugs with both hands on my breastbone.
Me: Epic girl time is imminent. Movies ordered. Junk food acquired. Dart board w/Henry’s pic attached is being hung at this moment.
Baylor: Lol. I guess I’ll be seeing you in class then.
Me: That’s probably a good guess. :( Sorry.
Baylor: I’ll console myself by hugging the pillow you slept on. Maybe the guys will come over & watch Snakes on a Plane with me. Sigh…
Me: Funny. :P
Baylor: ;) I’d call you at some point but I want to live.
Me: I knew you were smarter than you look.
Baylor: See you, Jones.
Me: Later, Baylor.
Damn, I already miss him. This can’t be good. An age-old panic tries to claw its way up my chest. Exposure. I feel it rip through my skin, and I rub the backs of my arms to prevent it from spreading further.
Iris shuffles back into the living room, her damp hair spreading wet spots on her Bieber shirt. His goofy, clean-teen smile mocks me. But Iris seems diminished, her shoulders curling in on themselves. I shove my phone into my purse and meet Iris on the couch to give her a big hug.
“I’m sorry, 'Ris.” I kiss the top her head.
“Yeah, me too.”