False Start: Attempting to start a dive, then stopping motion before the take-off.
IRIS’S DAD flies out of their house the minute we pull onto her long driveway. If I thought there was a chill in the air earlier, the sensation pales in comparison to the unwelcome reception I see in her dad’s eyes. A brand-new storm front headed straight for me that I should have seen coming.
“Shoot,” Iris says. “I had a feeling we might not beat him home. But don’t take off too fast. That’ll make it worse. You and I were out working on our projects. No big deal.”
A hollow feeling sinks into my stomach as I open the truck door for Iris and face her dad. Because even though he’s maintaining eye contact with me, he speaks directly and only to her.
“I think I left the kettle on the stove, Iris. Why don’t you go inside and turn it off for me while I talk to your friend?”
Iris shoots me an apologetic look and gives me the one-minute finger before rushing inside.
Sure. No big deal. I swallow hard.
The second Iris is gone her dad’s eyes go hawk-like. “Why are you hanging around my daughter? Do you think this is some kind of game?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Fiorello. I’m only—”
“Trying to screw with her head?” he interjects. “I know. But you can forget it. Find yourself another filly to toy with, young man. I’ve paid my dues to your family. We don’t need any more freebie psych treatments. Iris is off-limits. To you and that uncle of yours.”
I go into temporary shit shock, but manage to pull it together enough to defend myself. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Mr. Fiorello. Iris and I are working on a project together, and I do like your daughter, but I’m not playing any game.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.” He stares at me like there’s something I should know. “Just remember at the end of the game the king and the pawns go into the same box together, no matter who wins.”
What the—
Iris comes out of the house, sees my face, and gives her father a scolding look. “Dad, you never even turned the gas on for the kettle.”
“I must have imagined I did. You know how the mind can play tricks.” Mr. Fiorello pulls Iris forward and kisses the top of her head, all the while staring into my eyes. “Make it quick, Iris. You have homework and chores.” He walks away, leaving me confused. I definitely know how the mind can play tricks. But how would he?
“Sorry about that,” Iris says once he’s gone inside. “He’s been a little overprotective since my mom died.”
Mr. Fiorello’s face pops up in a window behind her and that old Clash song runs through my head again. I’d say more than a little.
“It’s cool. But I should go. It was pretty clear your dad lumps me in with his feelings about my uncle. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
I turn to leave and she catches me by my sleeve. “Theo, wait. I had a really good time today. Don’t let my dad scare you away, okay? He’s all bark.”
That might be true. But if Chip’s mom taught me anything it’s that a barking dog can be more than just a warning.
“I had fun too,” I tell Iris. “It was great. But maybe we should—”
“Do whatever makes us happy? Great idea.” She pulls me closer and kisses me, once and fast. “I’ll let you know if I find anything else in the archives.”
As she jogs up the front steps to her house a tiny voice inside my head finishes my original thought—maybe we should heed your father’s warning and cool it for a while.
The problem is staying away from Iris is the opposite of what I want to do, and it’s clear she feels the same.