Page 24 of Beautiful Small Things

“It wasn’t difficult. Our teachers loved us. We made football a priority. And we never got caught,” he says honestly.

“So when did the party end?” I ask.

“It ended earlier for Callan than for me. I indulged him for a long time. Well into college. I thought he’d bounce back, given enough support. But he just continued to fall down the rabbit hole until your Aunt Colby came back into his life. I knew then.”

“You knew what?”

“That his life was going to change for the better. She was what he needed.”

“You’re quite the romantic. Who knew?” I joke.

My dad chuckles. “Nah, I wouldn’t go that far.” He stands as he says, “I’m hungry. Do you want anything?”

“No, I’m good,” I reply. “Thanks, Dad. For the story.”

“You’re welcome, Iris,” he replies as he walks away.

I grab my phone to text Jem.

Iris: Hi! Don’t forget about my award ceremony on Thursday.

She responds after a few minutes.

Jem: Of course not! Did you invite anyone else?

Iris: No. Just you and Dad. You are the most important people, anyway.

Jem: Obviously. I’m so proud of you, Squirrel.

Iris: It’s not an epic accomplishment, Jem. It’s high school.

Jem: It is an epic accomplishment. I never received an award like that in highschool. Or college. Or ever. Am I stupid? Holy shit. I’m stupid and you never told me.

She always manages to make me laugh.

Iris: You are perfect, Jem. It’s not a big deal. I rank first in my class. I get an award for it. Honestly, this type of accolade is based on archaic principles such as grades and testing ability that only serve to pigeonhole children’s progress and cannot possibly measure true potential. But I digress.

Jem: Thank God you digressed. Of course, Squirrel. I can’t wait to watch you receive your archaically pigeonholed award.

Chapter ten

On a Thursday

James

Iris texted me to remind me about this award assembly this evening. She usually chooses to skip this event but is trying to honor our wishes to participate in more high school activities. I don’t want her ever to look back and regret anything. I chuckle to myself as I think about that. The irony is astounding.

It took me longer than I thought to get here. I left with plenty of time but the traffic was hell. I have to leave directly afterward and head back to meet with a contractor at 7:15 tomorrow morning. I’ll be so happy when this studio opens and I’m not running around like a lunatic.

I work my way through the theater to find the seat she told me to take. Weaving my way through, I see many people I generally try to avoid. People who want to talk to me about investments and donations. It’s fake and irritating.

I give everyone a cursory smile as I expeditiously find my seat. I manage to avoid most people and comments from thirsty mothers asking where Marcus is.

The Headmaster calls the assembly to order. The top ten kids in the class are being honored. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. Iris is popular with her teachers, but not so much amongst her peers. It’s not exactly cool to be different in high school. That’s when I see a group of boys a few rows behind us with signs.

PURPLE RAIN!

WE LOVE YOU, IRIS!