Page 14 of Crystal Iris
She gives me a knowing look. “And why’s that?”
I roll my eyes again, knowing this conversation is going nowhere.
“This is the dress,” she says as she zips me up.
I nod in agreement.
“I wish you could come to these parties with me.”
“When hell freezes over.”
I laugh. “Stranger things have happened recently.”
I’m grading my last paper when I realize Darion hasn’t handed his in. I haven’t seen him on campus since the day of our encounter by the river. It’s odd for him to be gone for this long. Did I have anything to do with it? He’s not a straight-A student, but he could probably still pass my class. I can’t help but wonder what’s happened, even though a part of me hates the idea of seeing him again. I email him like the great professor I am:
Hi Darion,
I haven’t received your final paper. Just wanted to make sure it didn’t get lost somehow.
Hope to hear from you soon.
Iris De Loughery
It feels good to be done with work for a while. I’ve been extremely distracted this semester, and my job has fallen to the back burner. Hopefully, things are slowing down now. I’m looking forward to the break, despite having to stay with my future in-laws for several days. Aaron gave me my Christmas gift early—tickets toThe Nutcrackerin New York City. He knows I prefer experiences over material things. We’re staying in a hotel until Christmas Eve, when we’ll rent a car and drive upstate to his parents’ house. I ask him why we’re skipping a driver, and he says he doesn’t want people to work on a holiday because of him.
I realize Akira’s new place is only a few blocks from my old apartment when she texts me the address. I barely paid attention the last time I was there. She’s catching a flight this evening, and Aaron and I leave in a couple of days. Her parents live in Chicago, and she has a new nephew to meet this year. I can see her excitement when she talks about the baby. She’s already a proud aunt.
“How long are you staying?” I ask, eyeing her place.
“Five days,” she replies.
“So, you aimed for… a bag a day?” I count her luggage.
“They’re all gifts.”
“Wow, you don’t do anything… small, do you?”
“Not my style.”
I laugh.
“Well, my gift now seems pretty pathetic.” I hand over my gift bag.
“Oh, stop it.” She’s already pulling at the tissue paper.
I’m not very good at buying gifts; I know that. I always opt for the plain things anyone could use—candles, wine, sweaters. The people I care about already have everything they need.
“I didn’t see you buying this; I love it.” She holds up the mug that readsBewitched Bitch.
“I snuck out when I left to get us coffee.” The Salem sales lady smiled when she rang me up, asking if I was interested in any of their scented candles. I ended up picking two for myself—one that smells like fresh pine trees and another that reminds me of an apple pie.
“And this will be handy when I’m supposed to look like an adult on Christmas Eve.” She holds up the sweater I got her to go along with the mug.
“Red is festive,” I say, almost apologizing for my plain gifts.
“Crimson,” she corrects me.
She had explained, what seems like forever ago, about her deal with color names.
