Page 42 of The Fall of Iris Henley
CHAPTER 23
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 12, 8:14PM
WALMART PARKING LOT
The Wednesday before homecoming half the school gathers in the Walmart parking lot to work on parade floats, as per Varda tradition. Well, the word “floats” might be overly generous. Mostly what we do is decorate a bunch of pickup trucks with balloons and crepe paper. This year’s theme is “Enchantment Under the Sea,” and I’m watching a wide array of creative visions develop around the parking lot. Most people have gone all in on a glittery mermaid vibe, with giant seashells and pearlescent bangles, but there are also pirates, sea monsters, and some kind of tentacle-heavy creation from the theater kids.
Sophie’s the one who dragged me out tonight, on the grounds that it is “the last one ever” and that I should care what the float that will carry the cheer squad out to the field looks like. So I’m sitting in the bed of someone’s F-350 with a blanket around my shoulders next to a metal urn of hot chocolate. Meanwhile, on the official Cheer Float, Bella and Molly are trying to artfully drape fake kelp across a gardening arch, and Sophie is shouting at a couple of football simps to get anoversized purple dolphin a little to the left, no, your OTHER left.
I snap a quick picture of the scene and send it to Jonah.
ME
Greetings from beautiful landlocked Varda County
JONAH
Who drew that dolphin? Follow up question: have they seen a dolphin before?
ME
That one’s all Sophie
JONAH
She knows how to do a google image search, right?
ME
I’m not about to ask
Across the parking lot the swing choir already has a plywood yellow submarine strapped onto the side of a Toyota Tacoma and are taking pictures with their heads sticking out through the portholes. I can see Katy inflating dozens of translucent balloons for the Key Club. There’s no sign of Max, and Hayden’s off picking up a massive Starbucks order for the rest of the girls. It makes me feel a little vulnerable to be without so much of my support squad, so I’ve been staying out of the way as much as I can.
It doesn’t help that my own personal shadow is here, lurking at the edge of the parking lot. Deputy Mays is in his sheriff department car with the windows rolled down, aviators hiding his eyes. He hasn’t spoken to anybody. Most everyone is studiously ignoring him, but a few people keep darting glances over at his car.
Sophie stomps over to where I’m sitting, her face borderline furious. “That guy was always such a jerk,” she snaps. “And now he’s messing with tradition. No one can drink while he’s here. How are we supposed to get this done without a little help from Jack Daniels and company?”
“Maybe I should just go home,” I say. “I bet he’ll leave if I do.”
“I’m not about to let him chase you off,” she snaps. “But I do need you to come and help with the float. Those dumb bitches don’t know how seaweed is supposed to look.”
It’s useless to try to tell her that arts and crafts aren’t my strong suit. I hop up out of the bed of the truck and drag myself over to the rest of the team. I think I catch a strange look passing between Vanessa and Bella, but I try to ignore it. So far, no matter what else has happened, the cheer team has supported me. Molly even got into a flame war on Sekrit on my behalf, calling out a bunch of the people who’d been talking shit. It didn’t help—and mostly seemed to get a bunch of the worst people riled up—but I still appreciated it.
“Hey,” I say, climbing up on the cheerleading float. “Sophie’s on a tear, huh?”
“You have no idea,” says Tammy Bates, who has a strand of crepe paper in her hair. She holds up her usually manicured fingers to show her chipped nails. “She made me sandpaper the clamshell!”
“She’s a monster,” whispers Molly, glancing to where Sophie’s scrutinizing the hand-glued sequins on a big piece of tarp.
I can’t help it—I break out in a sudden and unexpected grin. This is so normal compared to everything else that’s been happening lately. Sophie’s right. This is the last time we get to gather like this to make something fun and beautiful and pointless. This is the last time we get to argue and play like this.
I pick up a paintbrush from where someone left it. I’m planning to find a place to start painting—but first, I snap a selfie of myself holding the paintbrush up, and I send it to Jonah.
ME
I’ve been conscripted.
JONAH
