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Typical.
I’m at my desk hunched over our textbook, my eyes crossing as I skim the first two chapters over and over again, trying to absorb what I’m reading. Highlighter pen in hand and running it over what seems like something vitally important and might appear on a quiz.
I hate studying.
“I hate studying,” Iris proclaims, as if she lives in my brain.
I glare at her from over my shoulder before returning my attention to the book. “Funny. Doesn’t look like you’re studying.”
“I’m not. I hate it, remember.” She sets her phone onto the mattress beside her and lets loose a long, forlorn sigh. “I am so ready for the weekend.”
“Are you doing anything special?” I don’t know why I bother asking. We’ll most likely be together but sometimes she goes home while I stay here, or I go to my house.
“Spending it with you on campus, most likely. I’m just ready for the break. School is such a drag.” She stretches her arms above her head and rolls over onto her side, staring at the wall. “I wish I’d graduated early.”
“You probably still could.”
“But that means I’d have to study extra hard and take exit exams. That sounds like a nightmare.”
“You can’t wish for one thing but not put in the work in order to achieve it,” I tell her.
She goes silent for long seconds. To the point that I turn in my chair to check on her. She’s staring at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
“Since when did you become an inspirational poster hanging on a classroom wall?” she asks.
“I’m just speaking truths, Iris.” I study her, noting how she keeps moving and shifting, like she can’t stay still. “Are you okay? You seem restless.”
“I am restless. I don’t know why, but everything around here is bugging me. I want out.” She scratches at the side of her neck, then gathers her hair and piles it on top of her head, holding it there with one hand. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?”
“It’s just you. And what do you mean, you want out? Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere but here? I’m not sure. I just feel ready to spread my wings and fly right off this campus, never to see it again.” She drops her hand, her hair falling around her face and she shoves it out of the way with a frustrated sigh. “Don’t you ever feel that way?”
Not particularly, but I don’t want to say that out loud and make her feel bad, or worse, get into an argument over it. Besides, I had my chance to leave and while I enjoyed spending time in Italy, I also missed this place. And her. Plus, I don’t want to leave, not when something is starting to form between me and Rhett. That’s exciting. Why would I want to walk away from him now?
“You probably don’t ever feel that way,” she says when I still haven’t answered her. “You had your shot and lived it up in Italy. Honestly, I’m surprised you came back. I don’t think I would’ve been able to leave Europe to return to this mundane place.” Her tone is bitter and full of disappointment.
Hmm. Iris doesn’t act like this unless something or someone is bothering her. And I would love to know what this is all about. Who she might be referring to—or what. Not sure what occurred to make her talk like this, but I’d love to know what’s really going on.
“Did something happen to make you feel this way?” I ask her, not wanting to push, but not really wanting to talk in circles either. “You seem extra disappointed tonight.”
Iris sits straight up, throwing her arms in the air. “My dad happened, is what.”
Ah. That makes total sense. Sometimes they have conversations and the outcome isn’t what Iris was looking for. My father is extremely overprotective but Whit Lancaster takes it to another level.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, going to her and wrapping her up in a hug. “Did you guys get into a fight?”
“Not really. There’s no point in fighting with him. I’d never win. He’s so stubborn.” Iris presses her face against my old, faded T-shirt, rubbing it against the soft fabric, and I hope she’s not crying. That’s something she doesn’t really do.
“What did you talk about?”
“I told him I wanted to go to Europe over winter break, and he said absolutely not.” She sniffs but still doesn’t lift her head. “He’s such a jerk.”
“What do you mean, go to Europe over winter break? I didn’t know you were planning this.”
“I didn’t either. I just threw it at him to see how he’d react. I don’t know what possessed me to come up with such an idea, but I thought it sounded fun.” Her tone is glum. “He responded just like I thought he might.”
“Who were you going with on this European trip?” I sound vaguely jealous because I am kind of jealous. She’s never mentioned any European plans to me and I feel left out.
