Page 54 of The Fall of Iris Henley
In between episodes ofLove Is BlindI scroll through my phone. I still haven’t heard a word from Jonah. I haven’t heard back from Sophie or Hayden, either, even though I’ve messaged them a half dozen times begging them to talk to me:I don’t know how this happened. Please let me make it right. Please.
There are plenty of other messages coming through, though. Some are from strangers. Some are from people I thought of as friends.
MORGAN JENNINGS
why’d you kill them
RODRIGO MARTINEZ
killer
MOLLY JUN
I don’t know what’s going on but you’ve crossed the line you fucking psycho
STEPHEN DAWES
I knew you were a bitch
The replies to the new Rockytruther post are worse. There’s gloating and speculating, of course. But there are new touches too. In one they’ve taken one of my cheerleading pictures and photoshopped a gun into my hand. It makes the big smile on my face look manic, insane. Then there are the violent ends I deserve.
iwant to gut you like a fish
yourface won’t be so pretty when someone smashes it in
Carefulwhere you go alone Iris. Someone might be waiting.
I think about the night Hayden told me about how she’d cheated on Carter. That she’d been wasted, angry at him, angry at her mom, angry at trying to be perfect. She cried and cried, she swore me to secrecy. And I promised I’d protect her.
And I’d lied. I’d lied to all of them. I hadn’t meant to, obviously, but that didn’t change things. Why had I told Jonah? They weren’t my stories to tell. It’d seemed safe, it’d seemed okay because he was so far away and so uninvolved. But what’d made me think he could be trusted?
Had this been his plan all along? And if so… why?
Later that afternoon, I show up at the Little Gym a few minutes before practice is scheduled to start. I am dreading it and anticipating it all in one. My friends won’t text me back, but they can’t ignore me here. Conversations break off entirely the moment the others see me. Hayden is there in her leggings and sports bra, but Sophie is nowhere to be seen.
“What’re you doing here?”
Molly steps in front of the rest of the group, hand on her hip. She looks at me like I’ve sneezed and now I’m covered with snot. Like she genuinely doesn’t know how I can stand to live in my own disgusting skin.
“I’m here for practice,” I say. I force myself to meet her eyes, but the effort sends a shudder spiraling up my spine. Behind her, a few girls watch uncertainly. Some look openly gleeful. Hayden, sitting on the practice mat, looks down at her lap.
“You know you got Sophie benched?” Molly says. “Coach says she’s got to sit out until she passes a pee test.”
I bite my lip. “Shit.”
“Gloria’s going to give her a few weeks to get whatever out of her system before she makes her test, so I guess she’s lucky. Unlike Lynette.” Molly’s expression is hard. I finally look away.
Molly gives a soft snort of laughter. “Anything to be top girl, huh?
It’s not like that. It was never like that.But I don’t say it outloud. What would be the point? The truth doesn’t matter. Molly—and everyone else—is more than willing to believe that I am a monster.
I stand a few feet away and pretend to ignore them. If they genuinely want me gone, let them see if they can force the issue. But before that happens, Gloria comes striding in.
“Come on, guys, we’ve got a lot to get to today. I need you in position for warm-ups.” She claps sharply a few times. Most of the girls scramble toward their spots. I think I catch Gloria sizing me up before she kneels by the stereo to fumble with the auxiliary cord, but she doesn’t say anything. So I go to my spot and start to stretch.
For a little while I can almost pretend things are normal. With the music thudding through my bones, it could be any practice, any day after school. We move through our warm-ups and stretches. My body snaps quickly through positions and hits its marks. Every now and then one of the girls tries to catch my eye, to smirk or sneer at me, but I’m determined not to react.
Gloria cues up the music for our big showstopper. Bella, Lizzy, and Vanessa kneel to grip my calf and propel me up on the beat. My body is tight and muscular and aerodynamic, soaring up straight as a rocket, pivoting tightly. Muscle memory carries me, and my anxieties fade from roar to whisper. I punch a fist to the sky. Then I leap.
