Page 3 of The Fall of Iris Henley
CHAPTER 3
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 7, 11:06PM
BILLY SCHULTZ’S RANCH
“My feet are a mess.” Sophie wiggles her bare toes, showing off tonight’s blisters. “This new routine is killing me.”
The post-game party is at Billy Schultz’s ranch, ten miles out from town. It’s not as sprawling or well-kept as the Koenig ranch, but it’s right on the river. There’s a bonfire raging in the clearing in front of the barn. One keg is already drained, and another is well on its way.
Hayden, Sophie, and I are sitting together on the splintering dock, far enough away from the crowd that we can see the stars overhead. The night’s still hot, but a cool breath of air comes off the water. I hug my knees, my own aches and pains starting to throb.
“Ew, get ’em away from me.” Hayden swats at Sophie’s toes.
Sophie rubs her foot rapidly all over Hayden’s arm in revenge, then plunges her feet into the water. “Ahh. So much better.”
“The glamorous life of the cheerleader,” Hayden says.“Sticking your stinky feet in river water. Who wouldn’t want this?”
“It’s not so bad,” Sophie says. “This summer at dance camp I lost two whole toenails.”
“Truly disgusting,” Hayden says cheerfully. “Ballerinas are monsters.”
“Yeah, babe, I keep telling you that. You’ve seenBlack Swan.”
I take a swig of my beer and listen to their patter. I can tell they’re doing their best to keep things normal, keep things light, after what happened at the game. I love them for that. I didn’t really want to come tonight—not after the Koenigs showed up—but they loaded me in Hayden’s Jeep and dragged me here anyway. I’m glad they did, even if I’m feeling wrong-footed and tired.
I’ve been friends with Sophie and Hayden since our freshman year, when the three of us were alternates for the varsity cheer team. That meant we spent most of our time learning the varsity moves and then warming the bench during the actual performances. Sophie came to cheer by way of dance, of course, and Hayden used to do gymnastics when she was younger. I was the only one who came to it cold. I only auditioned because Lynette forced me to do it with her. It was a surprise to me when I ended up liking it, when I ended up being good at it.
Not as good as Lynette had been. She was the only one of us that made varsity freshman year. But then, she was also the only one kicked off the team, after she failed a surprise drug test October of our junior year.
The end of her cheer career, and the end of our friendship, all in one day.
I shake my head, imagining that the action could knock the thoughts loose, like some kind of human Etch A Sketch. Out of force of habit I pick up my phone. It’s low on battery—constantly hovering at about 5 percent charge is my toxictrait—but I flip through the usual apps. Pics of the party are already showing up on Sekrit, which almost everyone at school uses for gossip. It’s an encrypted app, so a lot of people use it to hide their private messages from their parents and teachers. There are also “communities” in the app that let you post and reply to other people’s posts, sort of like on Reddit. I scroll through for a second. There are pictures from the game. There’s a thread about the Koenigs’ appearance—that one has over a hundred comments already. Someone named “clownsex” postedTHE KEG IS HEREabout twenty minutes ago and it now has almost three hundred likes, which is way more people than are actually at this party. I wonder who’s sitting at home liking random posts from a party they aren’t invited to on a Friday night.
Then I close the app and, with a quick glance at Hayden and Sophie to make sure they aren’t watching too close, I open up my chat history. It’s disappointing. There’s nothing new from Jonah yet.
Jonah Bergman and I have flirted on and off at summer camp for the past three years, though it’s never had a chance to go anywhere. The first summer, he had a girlfriend back in Houston. The second summer, I was with Rocky. This last summer, of course, I was still shell-shocked from everything that happened last spring. But we hung out as friends. We’ve been texting back and forth since camp, and while it’s stayed mostly friendly, there’s a sense that something could develop, given a little time.
I haven’t told the girls. I’m not sure why. I guess I don’t want to have to answer any questions about it yet. I like that it’s a quiet, casual thing. I like that no one can put any pressure on it or ask me to define it. And even then—after being part of Varda’s most high-profile couple, after having everyone in town find out every part of my business—the secrecy is a luxury.
Jonah’s profile pic is a photo of him mid-laugh. One dark curl hanging in his left eye. A smile without reserve or hardness. And there’s what he said to me last night:Good luck tomorrow with the new routine.I think for a moment about replying. What would I say?Rocky’s parents made a surprise appearance tonight, can you believe that?No—we have already talked so much about Rocky and Lynette, and he’s been nothing but understanding, but I don’t need him thinking that I’m damaged goods, so broken everything in my life is governed by my worst day. I don’t want to bring it back to Rocky every damn time. Instead, I attach one of my pregame selfies. High honey-blond ponytail, bright blush on the wings of my cheeks. False eyelashes a mile long. I add a filter to smooth things out—we use stage makeup, and so it looks a little caked-on close up. Then I add a note.We lost the game but at least I looked cute.
“What you doing?”
I’m so startled I scream and fumble my phone. Luckily it doesn’t fall through the planks of the dock to the river below. I scoop it up, and in the light of the screen I see Bryce Sanders. This season’s quarterback.
Rocky’s replacement.
He leans toward me, his breath hot and beery, trying to get a glance at my phone. With one click I make it go dark. “Texting my mom.”
Behind him, Carter Mabry—Hayden’s linebacker boyfriend— lurches toward us. “There you are!” he says. “Baby, come up to the bonfire, there’s marshmallows.” He’s slurring so badly it comes out more like “smarchmollows.”
“Hey, baby,” Hayden coos, her voice going suddenly soft. “I’ll be up there in a minute. Just hanging with my girls.”
It’s always kind of awkward to see the way Hayden’s personality changes around her boyfriend. He’s one of those guys thatreacts to every little inconvenience with rage, and she spends a lot of energy trying to soothe him.
I’m hoping he’ll stagger back up to the fire to wait for her and take Bryce with him. Bryce has asked me out at least three times since freshman year. Luckily he’s had the decency to not pursue me since Rocky died, but I’ve noticed his eyes on me at school recently—just like they’re falling on me now.
“Man, Iris, you must be… so messed up tonight. Rocky’s parents just showing up like their kid didn’t blow some girl’s head off,” says Bryce.
