“Hey Wesley, looking extra muscly today.”
Layla carries on teasing me like nothing’s wrong.
Did Iris not tell her?
I figured everybody would know what an idiot I am by now, especially Layla, since those two are apparently best buddies now.
I tune back into Layla’s chattering when she gets to the part about a party. “You have to come, Nate. It’ll be fun, I promise!”
Sure, my idea of a fun afternoon is hanging out at their house while her husband glares at me.
“Come on, Layla, you know Grant don’t want me there. It’s gonna be weird.”
She waves me off. “He’ll be fine! Even Iris is coming! You don’t want to leave her without someone to talk to, do you?” She asks, wrapping an arm around Iris’s shoulders.
“No, I definitely wouldn’t want that.”
Layla punches me in the arm.
“Don’t be a d-i-c-k, Wesley.” She spells out the word, like the students around us won’t understand what she’s saying.
The bell rings when I open my mouth to respond, and Layla starts to walk back to her own classroom. “See you guys at the party!”
Once she’s gone, I find Iris’s honey colored eyes already locked on me, and god help me.
“Hey,” I say, quieter now that it’s just us, all that confidence I mustered up falling away under her stare.
“Hey,” she echoes, shifting, playing with her rings, the same way she did the last time we talked. “Sorry about that. She’s… excited.”
I chuckle half heartedly. “Yeah. That’s one word for it.”
Silence again.
“I didn’t tell her. About the other day,” she pauses before adding quickly, “Not that it’s a big deal or anything.”
Right. Not a big deal.
“Thanks,” I say, looking down at the floor.
She clears her throat. “Are you um… Are you going to the party?”
“Guess I have to now, huh?”
“I guess so,” she responds, playing with her ring faster now.
This is getting real awkward, real fast. The hallway’s starting to fill with students, locker doors shutting around us, but I hardly notice. “Well,” she says, backing toward her door. “I should get back.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
She starts into her classroom, but turns back once to look at me, and I force myself to look away, trying not to read into how her face softened when she looked at me.
We won the first game of the season.
Ain’t much of a surprise, the Rosehill Rams always show up to win, and those boys earned every damn point on that scoreboard.
Families and girlfriends come down from the bleachers, all smiles and celebratory hugs, even a couple of kisses bordering on inappropriate for school, but I don’t say anything.
The band’s still going, playing something upbeat, and the lights overhead shine so bright they’re probably lighting up the whole damn town.
