A way with words II

The orange juice leaked from the bottom of my hand as I covered my mouth. I nearly dropped the glass in shock of her question. I wasn't surprised by her question, I think any caring parent who hears their only son say "thoughts of you in ecstasy passing through my mind” would be curious as well. I didn't expect her to ask me that while I had pancakes in front me. Her eyes pierced me and my dad looked like he had her follow up. I didn't know if I was about to get jumped or if they were asking me questions.

"Huh"

"If you can huh, you can hear".

"I ain't finna be no grandpa anytime soon. You better put a helmet on your soldier. Shit, they got diseases out here where dicks just fall off. Keep fucking around if you want to, you gone catch "drop dead". I saw it on the Wolf News.``

My mother had a puzzled look on her face while she was pouring honey in her tea

"Harold what is drop dead?"

"Yvett, that's where 5 minutes after taking your condom off and flushing it down the toilet. You drop dead."

My mother smirked and rolled her eyes just enough to where I thought we would be searching the kitchen floor for them.

"Sweetheart, your father is right. If you are having sex I pray you are being safe while doing it at least."

"And who is she”? “Does she go to church”? “What's her GPA”? “What college is she going to”? “Is she fast? She seems fast, and I am done changing diapers."

Her questioning continued as my dad nodded in agreeance. The only thing that was missing was the narration from the First 48, before the detectives could finish their good cop funny cop routine I was bailed out. Thank Yah my parents had to go to work, between them and babysitting my gremlin of a little sister and working on this project with Iris; my head was spinning. Hours later Iris was knocking at my door.

"Hey"

"Hey Iris, come on in" I said.

"It smells good in here, what did your mom cook?"

"Nothing, I made lunch for Lola and I. Your welcome to have some if you want,

"What is it?"

"It's soup"

As I poured her a bowl she looked skeptical. Her facial expression looked like the soup was a vicious dog, you know the one that’s chained up in your neighbor's yard.

“It don't bite” I said.

She lifted the spoon to her mouth, for a moment she was silent. Then a smile started to form on her face.

"I'm impressed Oliver, this doesn't make me want to vomit and cut out my tongue".

"I told you, and you were looking at me like the soup was going to bite you" I said.

"But come on, we have to finish this work."

I gave her a nodding look as I pulled out my laptop and a literature book. Before I knew it hours had flew by. My hands started to cramp from all the typing and writing. A slow smile formed on my face as I typed the last paragraph. I looked across the table at Iris, the reflection of the laptop could be seen on her glasses. Lord knows that girl could stay focused. My feet felt like they were in a coma. I got up to walk around and go check on Lola.

"I'm going to go check on the gremlin"

She smirked as she continued typing. The little munchingin's door was cracked. I peeked in on her to see that she was sitting in the middle of the floor. I'll have to write spongebob and patrick a thank you letter for holding her attention. On one's own I made my way back to the kitchen to discover Iris closing her laptop.

"Done," she said with a look of relief.

"So are you still trying to get an invitation to The Mya Lorraine Classic? I know it didn't go how you expected last year."

My heart drops to my stomach thinking about it. A chill runs down my spine and my adrenaline begins to slowly pump.

"I……don't think, I’ll just-“

“Oliver you’ve been dreaming about winning that competition since you were Lola’s age.”

“I think I’ll just focus on architecture and just give poetry a rest”

She looks disappointed by my response

“I can’t keep doing this, year after year wasting gas on trips to Florida. Submissions of hundreds of poems, hours of thinking, days of revision. I’m tired of having to pay for submissions to websites”

“But Oliver, don’t you make money off those submissions?”

“Barely, and half of the time that money isn’t even promised. I know I’m supposed to dig until it hurts, but what happens when the shovel breaks?”

She looks at me eye to eye, her brown eyes are full of compassion. The touch of her hand is soft as a kitten when she reaches for mine, the way her hair falls effortlessly on her shoulder.

“Do you remember when I was at the mental institution? You may not think your words matter, but they do. I never forgot the poems you wrote me. the days I would sit on the bed and stare out the window, your words would be my wings. I know you may think it’s pointless but I believe if your writing can touch one person then you’ve done your job”.

With a weak smile I nodded as if I was stumbled into the light, but the truth was I was still in a bad place. We talked for a couple of more minutes as she packed up. The next couple of weeks I kept a tab open debating if I should submit an entry to the Mya Lorraine competition. Iris’s words swimmed in my head. In hindsight she was right, one yes will always kill a thousand no’s. I closed my eyes as the mouse hovered over the submit button to press it. A month has passed since I submitted my work, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t check the mailbox every day. Each mailbox trip was uneventful. The email said the results would come in three and half weeks. The repeated knocking at my back door stole my attention like a thief in the night.

“Alright, I’m coming” I said.

I open up the door to find Iris standing there, more excited than a pit bull with a new chew toy.

“You look happy ” I said.

“You look disappointed, were you expecting someone? ” she said.

“I was expecting Makenzie, she was suppose to come over here after her volleyball practice”

Her eyes shoot me a playful look as she adjusts her glasses over her nose.

“I am happy, the most amazing thing happen today”

“What happened?” I asked.

She handed me the mail saying nothing, her eyes were screaming to open it. As I read it I felt a growing excitement. “Oliver Jones, you have been invited to this year’s Mya Lorraine Poetry Classic…….” My heartbeat sped up out of joy, I finally felt the weight of a thousand no’s lifted by a single yes. The excitement was contagious, it spread to Iris as she was reading the letter after me. I could feel her body heat as we were hugging, her embrace was inviting. Before I knew it our lips were sharing a kiss. My hands were gripping her hips. I could feel her nails gripping into my back, blood was traveling south of the equator. We were brought back to our senses by the slam of a car door. We both quickly adjusted ourselves. As Mackenzie walked around to the back door the tension and awkwardness only thickened. She greeted Iris and I with a warm smile and started talking. I don’t remember what she was saying, how could I? Just a moment ago my lips were wrapped on Iris’s. I felt a little choked up. The person with all the right words suddenly had nothing to say, shame wrapped around me like a scarf, did I really just enjoy kissing my girlfriend’s best friend?