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Iris
The room is as any office should be. White walls with beige furniture and a dark-colored curtain over the window, just behind his desk. A whole shelf of colored files to the left while an open space with sofas and chairs to the left. Behind the desk, on the wall, there are framed pictures of various events, I guess, but the one that attracts my attention is the big oneâthe family portrait.
But before I can observe the picture more, Mr. Radcliffe grabs my attention as he sits on his chair. He gestures me to sit opposite him, giving me a calculated gaze.
I feel that I am going to be interviewed and if I fail in this, I fail in life.
Still, I move my feet towards the chair after trying not to be awkward and clumsy.
I drop the pen stand as I sit.
Why am I like this?
"I am so sorry," I say to him but he just looks at me and then, at dropped pen stand.
I really want to enclose myself in a box and try to compel someone to drown the box (and me) into the Pacific Oceanâreally bad it is miles away and I can't compel anyone.
"Tell me about yourself," Mr. Radcliffe says, after I, very artistically, keep the pen stand properly on his desk. "Start with the basics."
I straighten myself. "Iris Cooper, daughter of Mia Harrington and Steve Cooper."
"Ah, Steve and Mia Cooper. I have not interacted with Steve Cooper much but Mia Cooper is... some woman." Mr. Radcliffe says in a way that seems a bit mockingly.
"Yeah, she is... great," I say, giving him a small smile (really not hoping that it melts him). "I am 17 and a senior in Seahome High School, actually."
"What are you and... Noah?"
"We are friends."
He hums, looking at me. "What kind of a student are you?"
I tell myself that this is normal; every parent asks their child's friend the same question. So, I answer, honestly, "Good, I guess?"
He puts his lips into a thin line, before asking again, "What's your grade point average?"
"About three point nine five."
"That's not good," He murmurs.
Honestly, I am not proud of my score but at least, I am not depressed about it. And it is not that bad. It is good.
"So," He starts, leaning back on the chair. "what do you plan to do in the future?"
"Dancer," I say with hesitation. "Or if I get the opportunity, a choreographer."
He tilts his face, his eyes sharp and piercing. "Dancer?" He repeats.
I nod, smiling.
"Are you going to directly jump to Hollywood?" Mr. Radcliffe asks and my smile drops. He has put up the face I have seen from a lot of people when I say I dance.
"No, I am deciding on colleges in states and one in England," I reply, politely, even though I feel a bit annoyed by the question.
"Which one in England?" He asks, almost robotically.
"Donella Estoile University in London." Though I shouldn't expect anything much, I do hope that this impresses him.
"So, you are going to major in Dance?" Mr. Radcliffe looks at me, doubting my capabilities.
"Yes, I will," I reply, trying to keep up my politeness.
"What's your plan B?" He waits for me.
I, actually, don't have a plan B but, now, looking at Mr. Radcliffe, I guess a plan B should have been on my mind.
"Uh, I don't actually have a plan B," I answer, honestly.
He stares at me. "You do not?" He nods and huffs out a laugh. "As far as my knowledge about them goes, they don't seem to be some parents that will give away their children's future to some â ah â arts."
Okay, really? Really?
"Who are you to judge what other parents think or do?"
Noah.
Surprised, I turn only to find him, glaring at his father. He continues, entering the room and standing behind me, "She is not her parents."
Mr. Radcliffe regards him with a blank look as he says, "Nice of you to barge into my office."
Noah scoffs. "Keep your bullshit formality for your fucking meetings."
He is seething with anger so much that he can breathe out fire more than a dragon. So, I whisper to him, "Noah, it is fine."
He clenches his jaw and tightens his fists but he calms down.
If Mr. Radcliffe notices this, he doesn't say anything about it. But he tells him (or us), "I heard from Mr. Booker that you are not picking up Danielle's calls. You should talk to her but of course," He looks at me. "You don't have time for her."
"Leave Bella out of this," Noah sneers, stepping forward. "Why are you so concerned about?"
"I am just giving my opinion."
"Not sorry to say, Dad, but your opinion doesn't matter to me."
Mr. Radcliffe's glare turns to me. "But Iris doesn't think the same?"
Yes, I do like to be liked by my friend's parents and I do want to impress Mr. Radcliffe but he is the one who is making it difficult for me to be polite and good.
"The path she is choosing for herself is... utterly a waste of time."
"Then, Mr. Radcliffe, please do the honors of reminding what are the professions to be proud of?" Noah huffs out. "I know the answer: the profession that brings the rain of money."
"How dare yoâ"
"What? Did I hit the core, Mr. Radcliffe? Honestly, you don't know shit about life if you keep on judging like that."
"And what do you know about life, Noah Arthur Radcliffe?" Mr. Radcliffe roars, slamming his fist on the table.
"Okay," I say, standing up between the two men. "I think the dinner must be ready, now." I turn to Noah but he is still glaring at his father. "Noah, we should go."
I try to pull him away with his hand but he stops me.
"Not until he apologizes to you, Bella," He answers back to me, still not looking.
Mr. Radcliffe says back, looking at his son, "I will not apologize for merely asking questions."
"You insulted her."
"You say as you knowâ"
"That's because she is my friend."
He gives a dry laugh, looking at Noah. "Friend? I have seen girls coming out of your room, young man, and if she is one of themâ"
"I have had enough of your bullshit, Mr. Radcliffe." Before Noah can break my hold on his hand, I push him behind me.
I look at Mr. Radcliffe. "I love dancing. I do want to become a dancer, no matter what people think of that profession. My mother always told me to follow my heart and achieve my goal. And I am doing the same. I don't care about my plan B because I don't think any other subject or profession can bring me that much happiness that I feel when I dance. So, I don't care about your opinion."
Mr. Radcliffe looks at me, blankly, as I pause for a second. "Also, Noah is one of the best people in my life. He is one of my best friends. I have learned to trust him over these days and he is a great person and a greater friend to all of his friends. So, do not dare to speak shit about this man, because I will always defend himâbecause this man is important to me."
I take Noah's hand, without glancing back at anyone of them, as we get out of the room.
***
Noah
Bella's hands are shaking but we are still walking.
I was out in the garden, practicing football when I heard both of the sisters come in. I knew Mum would never allow me to enter the dining room, sweaty and smelling like grass and mud. So, I had gone to my room to change, only to come back and hear...
I knew something would go wrong but not this. Not what happened in his fucking office.
'So, do not dare to speak shit about this man, because I will always defend himâbecause this man is important to me.'
If Bella wouldn't have been there... I do not want to think about what I would have done.
He can insult the fuck out of me but not Bella. Never Bella.
When we are out of the house, I stop her and look at her.
She doesn't look back at me. Her hands are still shaking but not as much they were shaking before.
I move towards to close my arms around her. She flinches and I stop but she starts leaning into the touch until she is fully into my arms and hugging me.
My heart tightens.
My storm.
"Bella," I say, softly.
"He...I just..." She trails away.
"You stood up for yourself and your passion, Bella." I try to soothe her, one hand on her waist and another on her head. "That's more than enough what others do for themselves."
"Noah," Her voice wraps me around her finger. She looks up at me, "I cannot go inside and haveâ"
"We won't."
We just stare at each other as the words pass between us. She looks surprised while I am certainâmore certain of anything.
"Noah, you should be in the dinner," She shakes her head as she pulls away from me and puts some good distance between us. "I will just take the bus home."
I try to reason, "It is almost dark and we are almost in the outskirts of the city."
"I can protect myself, Noah."
"I am sure as fuck, you are capable of castrating without the required tools, Bella."
She giggles, looking away. I am almost on my knees at the soundâthe first smile and laughter I have gotten from her today.
Every time I am with her, every second I feel every particle in my body glowing with the warmth she spreads in me. That is all the warmth I need.
"What?" She asks, gazing across my face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
I chuckle, running my fingers through my hair. I tell her, "I have a place in my mind."
***
"Okay, it is your fault if I trip and injure myself," She tells me, wiggling her finger at me.
I suppress a laugh, skating in front of her and waiting for her to come in.
I got us to Ice Rink; it took us fifteen minutes and 45 seconds, according to Bella. Since then, she has been murmuring profanities under her breath as she glances and cringes at people falling down in the rink.
To be honest, I didn't know she couldn't ice-skate. I assumed she did because Michael skates and he told me once that he took her to the skating park. Of course, he forgot to mention that Bella hurt herself pretty bad that day.
I will deal with that fucker later.
"You will not trip and injure yourself, Bella," I try to assure her but her expression tells me she doesn't believe me.
"Really? Really? Can see you what I am wearing?"
I slide my eyes from her raven black hair to her pretty acne and cute nose and soft lips to the yellow sweatshirt, not hiding the dips and her curves, and blue denim paired with knee and elbow caps. Instead of her Converse, she has worn blue skates (also made me wear yellow ones).
I tilt my head, reaching her earthly brown eyes. "Hmm..."
Bella rolls her eyes and tries hard to give me a deadly glare but the small smile on her lips says otherwise.
She sighs, dramatically. "I know I am wearing knee and elbow caps but that doesn't mean I can't break my fingers..."
"I will hold them." And I do hold her hands, after skating towards her. "I will not let them break."
Soft blush paints her face over and over again until it is scarlet red, now.
I lean down towards her. "Also," I whisper and hear her breath hitch. "You aren't scared of falling. You are scared that I will see how you suck at the rink."
That does it.
She takes her hands away immediately and glares at me. "I do not suck."
"Are you sure?" I ask, amused. She skates forward, bumping on my shoulder, forcefully. "Ouch."
"Stupid."
She starts to ignore me but I am near her to her right. As she skates slowly and I know she would rather fall than take my helpâany help, I start to look around the place.
The place hasn't changed much. Except for the workers and the newly formed Slushy bar, the corn-dog food stall exists along with the pinball arcade. I can see middle school students hanging out, laughing loudly while eating the corn-dogs.
It is a wonder that, years ago, Adi and I met on street just across this and used to hangout out here.
"Oh, no, noâ"
I put my hand around her waist and hold her hand with my other. "Quit moving, Bella. You need to get your center of graâ"
"I know physics!"
"I am not teaching you physics. I am teaching you how to skate."
"I know how to skate."
"Then, are you falling deliberately so that I can hold you like this?"
She stops moving and then, she says with the most serious voice, "Dad dropped me when I was a baby."
I wrap my head around her statement. I almost start to believe her but, then, she bites her lower lip. "I am not your daddy."
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fucking fucker's hell.
I clear my filthy thoughts and my throat as I make her stand properly. I skate backward, putting space between us. It is worse when I hear Adi shouting in my head: 'Real subtle, dick.'
Bella glances at me, biting her lower lip to stop herself from smiling. "Okay, that happened."
"Let's forget that happened," I murmur and push back my head.
She laughs, loudly. "Mm-hmm, sure."
"You know what?" I take her hand as we, slowly, skate towards the exit. "We are going to eat."
"Ugh," She groans. "Finally, relief from this."
***
It is a good evening for an outing as lights from the streetlights fall over the cemented paths of the park. The wind blows, making some strands of Bella's hair flow with it too.
She and I are sitting on a bench in old rec park as we are drinking cokes, keeping the empty packets that had burgers away. We have been silent as if gathering our own thoughts about what happened, today.
"I must have scared you. I have some..." I start but she shakes her head, smiling at me.
"Anger issues and whole lotta temper? I know that," She says, keeping her elbows on her knees and her chin upon her hands. She looks at me and it is just getting hard to keep my secrets to myself.
"I hate that he did that," I admit to her.
"He just wanted to know me, I guess."
I stand up, abruptly, and look at her.
"Are you trying to defend him, even after everything he said to you?"
"He didn't say anything that I have not heard, Noah," She looks at the ground. "And whatever he said, I don't care. It is okay."
I kneel in front of her and take her hands. "It is not okay, Iris. He cannot treat you or anyone like some low class, we aren't so 'privileged'. We are not some royalty of America or whatever."
"I wouldn't have let him push me around, Noah."
"I know, Bella. I know. I didn't want that to..."
"Noah, it was nothing in comparison to what I have already heard. And, honestly, I should have expected that," She says, looking away from me. She tries to take her hands from the hold and I release them, sitting beside her.
"What do you mean, Bella?"
"There are two types of people in this world, for this situation, Noah. The second type has people who do consider it as a form of art and encourage our talents. You know them very well, now."
I give her a smile in reply and she takes that as a cue to continue.
"Now, when I tell the first type that I am a dancer, they will always react in one of two ways. Like Mr. Radcliffe, they will tell me that I am wasting my time and only some in million can achieve it or, like some people in our school, they will have an expression thinking I am a stripper â sometimes, they think I do pole dancing too, though there's wrong in that and also, I can do it only a bit. That's all they have ever seen.
"They don't see the floors I dance on and how sometimes I do the pirouettes too reckless that they cut up my heels or, no matter how tightly I pull up my hair it would somehow always end up in this idiotic half ponytail â which you know I hate so much.
"Those people don't know that in that dance room mirrors surround me â how many times I change my routine in order to perfect every synchronization between every step. They can't see how many times I fall before soaring up on the stage. They can't see. They don't have that ability to see."
If anyone asks the meaning of passion and dedication to me, I will proudly present Iris Cooper. Her face brightens up when she dances or even talks about dance. Sometimes I see stars dancing in her eyes as if Dance, itself, is for her and her only.
"The part where he slut-shamed me?" She gives out a dry laugh. "Again, not the only one."
I look at her, shocked.
"Let's not go into that, Noah." She takes a deep breath. "A story for later. But he shouldn't have said the same about youâhis own son."
"Our relationship is more complicated, Bella."
"I don't care, Noah. He just shouldn't have said that about you. I hated that."
"Bella," She looks at me and I just stare at her, not able to say anything.
I wish I can say somethingâanything in Italian but whenever I see her, all my thoughts just turn into gibberish. All I know is that I want to hold her, just keep her to me and tell her all of my fears.
I want her to know that she is my Achilles's heel but still, when she is with me, I am the castle, not fire or water can break down.
But then I remember tomorrow is another day and I will meet her brother.
And, then, I remember the deal Caleb and I have made.
"Noah, are you okay?" Bella says, keeping her hand on mine.
I nod and give her a smile. "Let's get you home."
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- a u t h o r ' s n o t e -
okay, honestly, this chapter is solid 6? or 7.5? I really listened to the whole noah and iris playlist to go through all the emotions in this chapter. maybe i need to slow it down now. maybe not.
stay calm and hydrated
until we meet again,
Inerys