Don’t Let Go

15. Tyler

15

Tyler

After picking my car up from the body shop, Iris finally responded. We agreed to meet at our favorite pizzeria in downtown Scottsdale. It was a quiet place with jar lighting pieces hanging from the ceiling, vintage movie posters hung on the walls with most of them signed, and an outside patio so you could vape and play some hacky sack or air hockey.

The place was packed tonight. I was lucky enough to snag a decent table within view of the waiters but not near the restrooms or the doors that brought in a draft.

All that was missing was Iris.

She's already ten minutes late. That's unlike her. Especially since this place wasn’t too far from her house. I kept checking my phone for an update, but it always told me the same thing. Her last message claimed she was on her way.

I’ve never been stood up before. How long do you wait before you say screw it and take off? What’s keeping her? Did she get into a car wreck? Should I call her? Should I stay?

Another ten minutes ticked by. I was about to call it and toss down a twenty and leave when Iris waltzed inside, glancing around at all the tables.

She looked gorgeous in tight black jeans ripped at the knees and a low-cut white tee. Her heels clicked on the linoleum as she spotted me and waved. She zigged and zagged around all the tables.

I stood to greet her with a kiss, but at the last second, she turned her head so I kissed her cheek.

She pulled out her chair and sat down. I sank into my chair, fingering the dew on my soda glass, now mostly just ice.

“Trouble getting here?” I dared to ask, eyeing the waiter coming over.

Iris lifted her shoulder and dropped it effortlessly as she pulled on her shirt to keep it from slipping down her other shoulder, revealing her lacy bra strap. “You know it takes me half the day to get ready.”

No, it doesn’t. I remembered when I took her to New York to see a Broadway play and to the Opera two years ago and it took her a little less than two hours to get ready. This was a simple date. Why did it take so long?

“Ready to order?” the waiter asked, smiling at us with his tablet.

“Yes. I’ll have a Diet Coke and a piece of pineapple pizza,” Iris replied, grabbing a couple of brown napkins from the dispenser on the table and placing them on her lap.

“Okay. And for you?”

I moved my empty soda glass from one hand to the other. “Two pieces of your meat lover’s.”

“Sounds good. I’ll put in your orders and be right back with your drink and refill.” The waiter wandered away.

“So…” I wrapped my fingers around my straw and stabbed my ice cubes with it. “How’s school since I left?”

Iris shifted in her chair, almost as if she was on pins and needles, forced to sit with me. “It’s okay. But basketball practice was embarrassing. I'm worried about the game.”

“Quincy told me about that earlier. I wanna come back, but there’s all this red tape holding me in Phoenix.”

“How’s your new school?” She fiddled with her pendant on the silver chain around her neck.

“It’s hell. I regret never being nice to the new kids that came to our school now.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I miss the team.” I laid my arm on the table, reaching for Iris. “But I miss you more.”

The waiter returned with Iris’s drink and my refill, forcing me to recoil my arm. Iris grabbed her glass with one hand and her straw with the other, making her drop the necklace. To my horror, it wasn’t the pink diamond kitty I gave her. The necklace was a blue dragonfly. I prayed her parents or some relative gifted her that necklace and not another guy.

“I miss you too, Ty. It’s strange walking the halls and not finding your face in the crowd. I always loved it when you’d push me against the lockers and kiss me. It always made me feel like we were in some soapy teen drama.”

The waiter came by with our pizzas, placing the food in front of us. “You need anything else?”

“I think we’re good for now. Thanks, man,” I said, making him leave again.

I picked a piece of sausage off and popped it into my mouth. “I can’t believe the shit had to hit the fan my senior year, but college will be better. That’s all that’s getting me through this mess.”

Iris wrinkled her nose as if she smelled spoiled milk. “Ty, baby, what colleges are you going to apply to now?”

“The same ones,” I said more like a question than a statement before taking a bite of pizza.

She swallowed and dabbed her lips with a napkin. “You can’t have the same plans though. You no longer belong to a team, so that full ride on an athletic scholarship is out. You’re no longer graduating from a highly credible school with weight to its name to stand out on an application. Maybe you could get a few scholarships or grants?”

Who was this girl, and what happened to my Iris? The girl who laughed at my jokes. The girl who liked to sit next to me in her pajamas and spend countless nights watching movies and poking fun at the actors. Where was that girl who held my hand at my father’s funeral?

I dropped my piece of pizza half-eaten on my plate. I had lost my appetite. “You’re acting as if I’m shunned and lost everything. I still have my house, car, and everything my father owned. I just had to go to Phoenix because, according to the stupid law, I’m still a minor who needs a legal guardian.”

Iris sat her food down, wiping her hands on her crumbled napkin. “I’m sorry. I was stating the facts as I saw them. I still love you.”

I took a swig of my soda. “I know a lot has happened in such a short amount of time. Why don’t we go to the movies or something? Just hang out?”

She nodded, tossing her napkin onto her plate. “I’d like that, Ty. We can go to all the tourist shops and make fun of all the crappy souvenirs tourists buy. Who doesn’t want a snake’s fang in a glass vile or a dead scorpion paperweight?”

A smile cracked my lips. “Or chocolate-covered crickets.”

Iris got to her feet and offered me her hand. I dropped some money onto the table for the bill and took her hand.

I had already lost my father, my high school, and my team. I didn’t want to lose Iris as well. We needed to reconnect. After spending a couple of hours together, it would feel like no time had come between us. At least, that’s what I told myself as we walked out of that pizzeria and down the sidewalk together.