Page 7 of The Fall of Iris Henley
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 8, 12:02AM
HENLEY HOUSE
After my friends drop me off, I stand at the curb and wait until the sound of Hayden’s engine fades to nothing.
The air has finally cooled a little, but I’m sweaty and aching and my nerves feel ragged. The development we live in is boring during the day—the houses are all in the same earth tones, the lawns the same too-bright green—but at night it’s borderline spooky, a hall of mirrors, the patterns repeating up and down the street.
A rustling sound; I stop, my head whipping right and left to see where it’s coming from. Someone’s out here. A moment later I hear a soft laugh, a man’s murmur. My heart climbs into my throat. I will my feet to move, to carry me to the house, but I’m frozen in place
Then I see shadows next door. It’s Max Fisher, walking his girlfriend Katy down the driveway to her car.
If I’d realized they were there, I’d have sprinted to the front door of my house. Max and I are friends. Katy and I… not so much.
But it’s too late now. He sees me and waves and starts across the dark expanse of lawn toward me. Katy trails reluctantly after him.
“Hey.” Max shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets, stretching them out away from his hips. He’s only a few inches taller than me, but wiry, with a kind of spring-loaded energy in his movements. He stops just short of my mom’s agave.
“Hey, Max, Katy.” I try to get a read on them, whether they’ve been on Sekrit. Max is usually super plugged in to online stuff—but I also know that’s one of the things he and Katy fight about, so if he’s been out with her, he may not have seen it yet. “Did you guys go to the game?”
Katy presses her lips together. “No, we missed the gladiator battle.”
Generally I wouldn’t bother paying attention to someone like Katy Phillips. She’s supersmart and actually pretty cute, but she’s also prissy and judgmental and boring. She’s one of those people that think anything popular is automatically a waste of time. And for some reason she’s never really liked me. Even back in middle school, before I started cheer, she always seemed to be gunning for me in class, trying to take me down a peg. These days we keep it civil for Max’s sake, but I can’t help but bristle at half the words that come out of her mouth.
“How was it?” Max asks me. “Did we go… fight… win?” He says it deadpan but does little pom-pom motions with his arms. From him it’s not mean-spirited. He’s always teased me about cheer, but it’s more like brotherly ribbing.
“We did not,” I say. I’m pretty sure by now they haven’t seen Sekrit, or Katy would be throwing it in my face. I consider telling them about the Koenigs, but it feels too risky to gossip right now, like I’m inviting my own judgment. “It wasn’t a great game. What were you guys doing tonight?”
“Working on college essays,” Katy says. “I finished mineback in July,” she says, “but I’ve been helping Max with his. How are yours looking, Iris?”
Mine? Unwritten, unconsidered, and shoved to the back of my mind. But I can’t say that to Katy.
“Um, I’ve got a decent draft,” I lie.
“Nice!” she says, pasting a smile on her face. “Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” I say, but she’s not done.
“You know, I was honestly almost jealous of you when I was working on my essays this summer. Like, here I am trying to write about overcoming adversity, when the only thing I’ve been through was the time I missed mock UN because I had strep throat.” She cocks her head to one side, her hair falling pin-straight over her shoulder. “But you! You’ve been through so much. It must have been easy to whip through those applications.”
I have no intention of writing anything about Rocky and Lynette. But I just smile at her.
“Soeasy,” I say.
“Anyway,” she says, slinging her backpack across one shoulder. “I’ve got to get home. Tomorrow’s my last shot at the SATs and I’m aiming for a perfect score.”
“Bye,” I say vaguely, but she’s not even listening. She turns with sudden determination to face Max and pulls his hips square against hers. She plants a wet, awkward kiss on his lips and lingers a few beats too long. His eyes go wide and stay that way when she turns away to where her little white BMW is parked at the curb.
We both watch as she drives down the street, the same direction Hayden went a few minutes earlier. Max shakes his head a little and smiles.
“Thanks,” he says.
“For what?” I cut my eyes toward him, frowning.
“That’s the most action I’ve gotten in weeks, and it was just because she was trying to make you jealous,” he says.
I snort. “Jealous of what? She thinks I’ve got a crush on you or something?”
“Well, yeah,” he says. He gestures toward his own body. “Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?”
