When the newest day arrived, I felt like throwing myself out the window.
Firstly, my room was lit by the sky, except not really, to be honest; I didn't have to look to know it was a cloudy day again, so it actually just made it somewhat dim inside my bedroom instead of, well, completely dark, like it usually was in the mornings. So, that meant no fog, which meant even sadder Iris (me); the fog had grown on me, it was like a father to me, I loved it like a son. That doesn't make sense, I know, but it's a reference to something that shouldn't exist yet, as it's "2005" currently, and in my past. In fact, I probably already referenced a few things that don't exist yet, because of the year. Well, at least, let's just pretend it's that year, okay? Why am I referencing something that supposedly doesn't exist yet but I know it will? Maybe, I actually survived the attack I'm currently in the middle of as I retell this; you don't know. Maybe, it's many years into the future and I'm just dramatically recounting everything from the first…two I spent in Spoonz; you still don't know. Or maybe, this takes place in literally any year in the 2000's or 2010's because I don't actually remember what year it is; you still don't know but this is probably more accurate, to be fair.
Quit patronizing me, damn it; I'm trying to tell a very unique, totally different story and I can't if you guys keep asking me questions about shit that don't actually matter. Nobody asked for your opinions either.
I hesitated to leave my bed, knowing I'd just feel dreadful throughout the day if I left my bedroom. Alas, I was an idiot; I let curiosity take control. Curiosity killed the lioness (cat). I stood and went to my window. That's when I started thinking about throwing myself out of it, but I didn't. I probably should've, though.
Snow. Goddamn, motherfucking snow. Why, God? Why, Satan? I'd been doing right by you. Why were you allowing (bad) karma to strike me again? Fuck you. Well, maybe I did kinda deserve it for briefly pretending that I liked/tolerated snow; at least, I think I did that. I mentally promised not to pretend again; I broke that promise, obviously, because Maverick seemed to like the snow. I don't know why; I still don't. Because of the cold, maybe? The lack of sunlight? I just don't know, not for sure.
All that snow created ice, through the rain that fell the day before; that was dangerous, but fuck it, the snow was just so wonderful, you guys. It totally won't get you killed. I'd be lucky if it didn't kill me through my occasional clumsiness.
Cassius wasn't home, that I was most certain of; he always left pretty early, so I rarely caught him in time to make him breakfast before he'd left. I wasn't too upset over that, though; I preferred to be alone, most of the time anyway. It wasn't like we had conversations during such either; it was just as awkward as when we did talk, maybe more since it was just complete silence the other way around. None of that matters; it's pointless; I just didn't know how to continue my story for a moment there, sorry not sorry, bitch.
I threw on a semi-hot outfit; a beige cashmere knit sweater top of Chanel wannabeness, denim jeans of ripped pants-ness, and some black shoes of some brand of whateverness. Who cares? Apparently me; I keep describing my clothes to you when I said I wouldn't always do it. Anyways. I rushed through my breakfast of eggs, bacon, and milk; it was decent. I was ready to see Maverick again; I wondered if we'd have a proper conversation, one without idle words. Hell, even if we didn't have one, a conversation I mean, I could, and likely would, just stare at him again, admire his beauty of inner angst. Happy sigh. I'll use italics when I want to, whiny readers; I don't care if it makes sense or not.
A normal person would cease trying to befriend/charm him after such dullness, but I wasn't normal, clearly; I was insane, completely stupid, and uncaring about potential consequences. Hell, his past aggressiveness, and likely future aggressions, would've been enough to make normal people stay away but I didn't wanna. Red flags wouldn't stop me from coochie banging. And I would coochie bang with Maverick. Someday. It was insane how much we were like Romeo and Juliet; except we totally weren't and I was just saying that to throw you off. Gotcha, bitch. Ha ha!
So, navigating through the icy driveway, that was a bitch. I lost my balance five times; I'm surprised I didn't lose my balance the entire time. Yes, I fell on my ass each time; why wouldn't I? I told you I was very clumsy; it's not my fault if you didn't believe my overexaggeration. It took me three years each fall to get back up again; by the time I got to my almost brand new car (Thelma), everyone was graduating. Just kidding; it only had been, like, twenty minutes, maybe. I was so gonna be late for school. Oh well; shit happens.
I couldn't wait for the remainder of that day, where I could see my soulmate. Yes, he actually is my soulmate; I'm done pretending he isn't. Lust (love) won in the end, you guys; can't wait until we get to that point of my backstory, before I have to show you my death. No smut, though; we haven't hit that step of our lust-love, surprisingly.
On the drive to school, I distracted myself from my general clumsiness, and my lust for Maverick, by thinking of the boys I didn't like all that much but still hung out with anyway; Constantine, Magnus, and (technically) Black Guy. Back in Raven, the boys never swarmed me; I was a basic plain Jane, after all. I wonder why they like plain Janes in Spoonz. Maybe because they don't have any? That has to be the reason; I haven't changed since moving. Maybe they find my slight awkwardness to be beautiful? Whatever the case may be, Constantine's stalker attitude, Magnus' back and forth mindset towards him, and Black Guy's constant staring at us three was rather annoying. But being ignored is far more annoying, so I chose to suffer in annoyance by their bullshit.
Thelma survived the slow drive to school. Woo! Go, Thelma!
I investigated Thelma once I was in the school's parking lot; no snow chains. I did that shit on my own. How epic is that? Well, maybe, I just got lucky. Again. For some reason, I was very lucky.
I was dancing in the parking lot, having the best celebration moment ever about not crashing on the way to school, when I heard a loud ass screech from nearby. I spun, startled by the suddenness of such noise. What the fuck was that? I thought. Did the school forget the rock salt again? Is someone's car slipping and sliding across the lot like I was at home on my feet?
Everything happened so fast, my mind couldn't fully comprehend what happened. Feeling like those were my last moments, my eyes went to where Maverick stood, so that he was the last person, last thing, I saw whilst I was alive. Dramatic, I know, but I thought I was gonna die, so why not stare at something pretty whilst I go? I didn't see a point in trying to run or duck or dive; I'd probably enter the death zone anyway in my attempts to get away.
Maverick Soren, my soulmate of lust-love, stood several cars from me; he was terrified, probably because I was about to be violently crushed between Thelma and the truck coming right for me. Others were shocked and frozen in place as they witnessed the scene, I'm assuming; I only watched Maverick, so, yeah. Maybe the others were actually cheering for my demise. I don't know; I was too busy staring at Maverick. I heard the vehicle coming but I didn't move, nor look at it; I just watched Maverick. Tires were squealing, some people were screaming; I didn't look at them, just Maverick. Maverick, Maverick, Maverick. The last person I was to ever see.
I was about to die in front of everyone. Boy, were they gonna need counseling. I knew coming to Spoonz was a bad idea, I thought since I was certain I'd be dead soon. But at least I met Maverick Soren; that was all that mattered.
Suddenly, I was hit, but not by the vehicle.
My head hit the icy concrete of the parking lot; it hurt like a bitch. I blinked and registered what was happening; Maverick, who'd been far away, was lying on top of me, on the pavement, in a non-sexy way. Temporarily, I was not in danger; he'd saved me. But then, I glanced to the side and saw the vehicle spinning towards us anyway, despite Maverick's attempt to rescue me; I was right to not try dodging, as I would've entered trouble regardless. But then, he saved me again, swearing beneath his breath (shit); he stopped the truck with his hands, leaving a massive dent in the vehicle.
Holy shit; it was such a sight to witness, dudes. It got me hot and bothered, and I just about died! Then, he moved my legs and feet outta the way before they got run over; the truck (or car, maybe; I don't know, I only know classics, sort of), its glass breaking and all that jazz, finally stopped, no longer causing danger to people (me). Who cares about the driver right now; they lived, therefore they were irrelevant.
People were screaming a lot more after that. They probably thought someone died. I couldn't blame them for freaking out; I would've, if the roles were different. And I still would've made the experience about myself, just so you know.
"Iris?" That was Maverick speaking; he sounded so concerned for my safety. Such a sweetheart.
"I'm good," I lied. I didn't want to move; my head hurt like hell. On the bright side, Maverick was holding me in his arms; it was almost like we were cuddling. Ahhh. I wanted him so much.
"Your head, it's bleeding," Maverick pointed out, in worry. ...It was probably from worry.
"Duh. That happens when someone violently knocks you onto concrete without warning," I hissed. "It hurts like a motherfucker, by the way. Thanks for that." He smiled weakly at me, poor baby. "So, you gonna tell me how the fuck you got over here so fast? 'Cause I was watching your ass the whole time; you literally teleported from a few cars down."
"No, I didn't. I was over here the whole time," Maverick lied, his tone serious all of a sudden, concerned no longer. The fuck? Was he trying to compel me? Yes, I referenced a show that doesn't exist yet (we're still pretending it's 2005, remember; or whatever year I said) but it will; don't ask how I know, I just do. Also, the answer of how I have such knowledge should be pretty easy to figure out, actually; cough Briar-Fleur cough. Or, you know, it's a different year than what I've been saying. Who knows. I could just be crazy. Or you could be.
I stared at him, blankly. "Really, bitch? You're gonna be like that now, huh? Gaslighting motherfucker." I sat up, ignoring the pain in my head. The lovable asshole released his grip on me, moving as far away as possible with what little space we still had; his expression was back to concern. Make up your damn mind, I thought angrily, glaring at him despite my lust-love for him. And then, I realized that no one had made it to us yet. Odd.
That was when everyone suddenly started pulling up on us, sobbing their faces off dramatically, shouting at the top of their lungs like they were in church, and some of that shouting was at us; like, bitch, we could've died, sound less angry when you're shouting, damn.
So many things were being yelled at once, I couldn't comprehend any of them; they were all jumbled together, making them sound like they were speaking another tongue. Perhaps snake language. Hmmm. Wink.
I just stayed where I was, chilling on the ground. My head pounded viciously. I was annoyed, pissed, and relieved; annoyed and pissed at Maverick for gaslighting me, and relieved that I didn't die like I thought I was gonna. I looked at my lust thing (instead of boo thing, 'cause lust is happening, get it? Hehe, I'm funny). "You were standing near your vehicle; I know you were. I never looked away from you, not once. And you never stopped looking at me." You've been caught in a lie, bitch, and you can't walk away, I thought aggressively, wanting to prove myself superior.
"But I wasn't near my car, I was standing over here," Maverick denied, voice as cold as ice.
"No, you weren't," I firmly stated.
"Yes, I were," Maverick firmly stated back.
"You weren't beside me!"
"But I was."
"But you weren't!"
"But I was."
"Gah!"
I punched the pavement beneath me, which hurt my hand. I wasn't gonna win the argument; he seemed keen on repeating the same line over and over. He chuckled at my frustration; I stopped myself from kicking him in the head, considering he was also sitting on the ground with me; I was certain I could reach his head if I tried, though.
"Iris?" Maverick still sounded amused by my annoyance and stuff. That rat bastard. Don't worry; that was a term of endearment, I solemnly swear.
"You are telling me the truth after all this bullshit is over, you hear me? Maybe not immediately afterwards but eventually. You'll stop denying what I know to be true and you will stop gaslighting me. Just watch. I'll win, in the end. You'll see," I told him, giving him a stern look. I wasn't gonna back down. He sighed, frowning at me, looking resigned; his eyes showed sadness. Good. Wait, what? Sadness?
The entire school and on-hand whatever-you-call-thems had to work together to move the vehicle away from us; just kidding, it only took, like, three very strong people to do it. They must lift vehicles for a living or something, damn. It was at that moment that I worried about the driver that almost hit me; I wondered if they lived. Probably; no one has screamed 'dead body'. Plus, me from the future has already told you, readers, that the driver lived.
The ambulance pulled around and parked near us. Stretchers were used; Maverick didn't need one, apparently, and I didn't want one but he told on me, let everyone know about my head hurting, so I had to be on the damn stretcher, and with a fucking neck brace, too. It wasn't humiliating; this shit happens to the best and worst of us, but it was a major pain in my ass. Maverick, the lucky bastard of my lust, was able to ride upfront, which made no goddamn sense (to me, at least) because that didn't seem at all realistic to what the procedures are, as I believed only a family member could do that, not some random classmate, but whatever. Seriously, though, it really didn't make any sense to me; maybe it was because of his adoptive father?
Speaking of dads, Cassius showed up just before I could be taken to the hospital. He was panicking, like any overprotective father should be, especially over their only child, and he just wouldn't shut up with the questions. I endured; he was just extremely worried about me, for the reason I've explained already.
Just before the back of the ambulance closed, I saw Maverick's adoptive family in the far distance; I couldn't tell what their expressions were, but hopefully, they'd been of worry for me-I mean their not-brother. Surely, they couldn't be heartless.
Blah, blah, blah, zoom, zoom, zoom, hospital.
Emergency room, I was placed within; you know what those look like, so I'll save my breath in explaining what it looked like. Umm, blood pressure was taken, alongside my temperature, for some reason (what basic care I was given, as someone who'd just been in an accident involving a vehicle) and even though the curtain around me wasn't closed, leaving me without privacy, I still kept that stupid neck brace on because what goddamn idiot would rip it off before getting the go ahead from their doctor, someone who'd know if I actually needed it or not? Even when I was all alone, with no one to witness me remove it without permission, I still kept it on; I wore it with pride. I wasn't stupid enough to risk further injury.
Soon, another patient was in the same room and the nurses were paying more attention to him than me. I immediately recognized him, too; it was the basic black guy character, dubbed Black Guy, the one people throw in to not look racist and stuff but still somehow manage to kinda be that way, anyways, because they don't know how to write them properly. You know him; like I said, I've been calling him Black Guy. Very few succeed in getting them written right. Anyways, uhh, what was his name? I don't think I ever learnt it, actually, fuck me. I stared at him; he had a bloody bandage around his head. He looked so much worse off than me. I didn't care, though; he was still alive, wasn't he? He didn't even seem to care that he was in worse shape; he looked so concerned for me. Wait a second…
"You nearly fucking killed me, asshole!" I yelled, trying to sound menacing but the neck brace was making that very hard to accomplish because I looked fucking ridiculous in it.
He panicked. "Iris, I swear, I didn't mean to! The ice; I thought I could control my truck!" So, it was a truck! I think; I still could be remembering wrong. Eh, car, truck, van, it was a vehicle, wasn't it? Jeez.
I couldn't take it anymore; I started laughing. "Dude, you should've seen your face! I'm good. Still breathing, so it's fine, I'm fine. You look like you got the worst end of all this, though. Are you good?" I made a face of yikes when the bandage was removed by the nurses, revealing many cuts across his entire face. Yep, he was definitely much worse off. "Damn, man… That looks… It kinda looks badass, actually. Think it'll scar? Scars look pretty hot, not gonna lie."
He pouted. "You had me going there for a second; I really thought you were pissed at me for something I couldn't control." He half-smiled. "I'm glad you're alright; I feel bad, though. I could've ended your life." He shrugged. "Me? I'm good. It was nothing." He winced; the nurses messed with his injury. "...You really think it'll leave a cool scar?"
"Hells yeah!" I exclaimed, smiling. "Maybe several of them! Girls will be lining up!"
He smiled fully at that. "Thanks, Iris."
"Welcome, Scout!" I beamed.
His eyes grew wide. "I'm surprised you remembered my name."
"Me too." I honestly hadn't known that was his name; I was just calling him a scout, as a nickname, because why not. Whoops. Oh well. Scout be his name, huh? Nice. Weird name, though. It couldn't have been Scott instead?
They took me away from the room for x-rays. Long story short, I, surprisingly, didn't have a concussion, after all that shit I went through. My head was still hurting like a bitch fucker, though, so maybe they missed something; there was just no way in Hell that I was completely okay. I couldn't leave until after the doctor saw me; I didn't care because maybe he'd find out what was wrong with my head, unlike the dumb nurses. Scout and I didn't talk again, by the way, if you were wondering.
Sometime before the doctor showed up, Maverick walked into our room, looking concerned and amused at the same time. It was weird. Scout (I still can't believe I finally remembered his name, and by complete accident) started apologizing to him, too, but Maverick brushed them off (the apologies) and strolled over to me, ignoring his further attempts; Scout ultimately uttered a profanity at Maverick but my love-lust ignored that, too.
"So?"
"Seriously? That's it? 'So'? That's all you've got to say?" I questioned back. He shrugged and smirked at me. I glared. "My head hurts, they claim nothing's wrong, and now, I've gotta wait for the doctor." I nodded towards him. "Lucky for you, you were adopted by one."
"Lucky, indeed," Maverick answered.
Conveniently, that's when the doctor walked in; I wasn't at all shocked when I immediately realized that the man, the doctor who would check on me, had to be Maverick's adoptive father, because he just had to be. He looked like he was in his late twenties, maybe mid-thirties; my age assumption zones are usually off by a little, so maybe between those gaps, leaving him at early thirties, in my continued assumption, as I still don't know today of his age, look wise. Umm, he was, or rather is, very blonde, like very blonde; it looks white, almost. He also looked pretty hot, like my not-friend Erica (was it Erica…?) said; except, I still believe Maverick is much, much hotter in comparison, through the obligation of needing to think this because he's my soulmate. Just like the rest of the family, he's very pale. Very, very pale. With the blackness underneath his eyes, too. I think. Not entirely sure; I was suffering a head injury, I was probably just seeing things by that point.
Yes, I went back and forth with past and present tense, and I'm not sorry; I'm dying, remember? Don't make me haunt you after I die. I will continue to do so, by the way, so deal with it. Or fall in a hole. Whichever keeps you from bugging me whilst I die.
Okay, so, this next part shall be "summarized" because who cares about Dr. Soren, okay? This is me and Maverick's lust-love story, yeah? Dr. Soren, I'm sorry, I adore you, but I'm skimming through this, as it's pretty irrelevant; you'll get your time to shine later, probably, if I let you; it's my story, and Maverick's, after all. You'll have your time to shine. Probably.
Okay! Long, irrelevant moment(s) shortened!
So, I told Dr. Ansel Soren that my head was hurting like a bitch fucker but everyone kept telling me I was super gucci (good). He consulted the charts of my x-ray or whatever, agreed with them, and then touched my head and made it hurt more; he just told me to take some over-the-counter meds or whatever and return if it caused me to lose my shits and stuff, like blind me or something. He was really nice and intelligent, you guys, so much better than those nurses that didn't know shit about my head injury. Meds would cure my pain, guaranteed.
Maverick stood in the corner, listening silently and like a creeper, which was really hot. Hot, hot, hot. I stood up, then immediately fell down because of gravity and my cursed clumsiness; I had to explain, in great detail, to everyone that it had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with my head injury and everything to do with me just being me because the doctor said my head was fine just a few minutes beforehand and I would always believe my doctor's words over everyone else's. After that, and after I no longer had to wear the neck brace even though I was certain I totally should've kept it on, I dragged Maverick outta the room for a private chat because his bullshit was getting to me, again.
So, here we are now in my story, with me and Maverick having an epic showdown in the hospital hallway, corridors, or whatever you'd call them, about who was right and who was gaslighting the shit outta the other. Spoiler: I was still right, he was still gaslighting but more hardcore.
He had the audacity to glare at me like I was the worst mundane person on the planet; excuse you but a lot of the worst kinds of people are already dead, thank you very much, so go glare at the ones that still remain. It was pretty hot, though, his glaring; it made me all hot and bothered, again. "Well?" he asked in a cold tone. His mood swings were really getting to me, too; like, he's sweet one minute, cruel the next, awkward another, social butterfly after that; it was getting very confusing. And his formal, informal mannerisms were throwing me off, too. They still do, even though I do the same thing, to be honest.
I didn't allow him to intimidate me with harshness. "Dude, you heard what I said earlier. I will prove that I'm right and that you're gaslighting me." I crossed my arms, glaring back. "I know what happened; I saw it all. Nothing you say will change that, not even your half-assed lie of "I was totally there with you the whole time, Iris, I swear" because that's absolute bullshit." I stood my ground. "Tell. Me. The. Goddamn. Truth. Already."
"No."
My left eye twitched. "No? No?!"
"You hit your head pretty hard against the ground, remember?" Maverick was using his nonchalant, blank voice. How dare he. "You likely imagined everything that you're claiming you saw."
"Fuck you. My head may be hurting like a bitch fucker still but it's very clear, thank you very much!" I felt like hitting him. He was being such an ass; god, he was so hot, though, holy shit. Eh, I'd forgive him in the morning; spoiler, I did and didn't forgive him the next morning.
"Are you ever gonna shut up? This conversation is over, Iris. I was beside you; end of story."
Oh no he didn't, I thought. "No, I will never shut up, not until the truth comes outta your lying mouth."
"You are so infuriating," Maverick whispered, staring at me in brief awe before he looked all grumpy again. He thought I was being appealing with my fiery presence, eek! I love-lust him sooo much! "Why don't you tell me everything, then? What happened, huh?" He crossed his arms to match my arm crossing ability; rude. "I'm waiting."
I'm gonna win this shit, I thought, assuming that I was sensing my upcoming victory; I was wrong, sorta. "I was staring at you the whole time. You were staring back. You were worried about me, given that I was about to die. I heard the vehicle coming but I never looked away from you because I wanted you to be the last person I saw before death took me. You teleported, in like a blink of an eye, and saved me; first, you got me outta the way whilst also giving me my head injury, then you dented the fucking vehicle when you stopped it. Then, you stopped my legs from getting smashed to pieces next. The rest is history." I stared at him, so pissed off that I felt like dropping to my knees and sobbing.
He just continued staring at me. His expression changed various times; confusion, concern, shock, annoyance, irritation, then anger again. Lord, have mercy. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?" he questioned me. I just shrugged, nodded, and smirked smugly. "You'll just end up in an asylum if you tell everyone."
I blinked, confused. "Eh? Tell everyone? Why would I do that?"
Maverick was confused again. "Wait, you aren't gonna tell anyone about your…theory?"
"No. Why the hell would I do that? I just wanna know the truth, man; no one else needs to know shit," I answered honestly.
"Uh huh. Sure."
"Oh, thanks for saving me, like, three times, by the way," I stated in gratitude. "But dude, tell me the truth already. This shit is getting old real fast."
"No."
"Why the fuck not?"
"Because I was standing right beside you."
"Fuck you, no, you weren't."
"I'm done with this."
"Why the fuck did you save me, then, huh?" I asked, still angry. "Letting me die would've saved you the trouble of this annoying ass conversation, yeah? So, why let me live? Why gaslight me?"
Maverick stared at me, shrugged, and then walked away, all swagger and shit. I stared at his ass as he left me there, fuming in anger. He was just so, so hot, you guys. Yeah, I definitely couldn't stay mad at him for long, sorry not sorry. He kept showing so many red flags of "DON'T DATE HIM" but I just wanted him so much more. Sigh. I couldn't wait to fuck him someday. I've said that before, but yeah, I totally wanna bang him, man. How can I not be horny for the man? Aggressive men are probably rough in the bed; I likey.
Anyway, let's finish that day off with a boring bang!
The waiting room had my whole school in it, literally; I hugged my friends, not-friends, teachers, and people I hadn't met yet and likely won't ever talk to or see again. Cassius was there, too; I don't get why he, an officer of the law and my dad, had to wait like everyone else for news of my health, but whatever. Blah, blah, blah, worry, worry, worry; Cassius took me home and everyone else returned to the school, not even slightly concerned for Scout, who was worse off in injuries. Poor man.
Understandably, he told Mother about what happened, so I went to call her, since emailing her was annoying and texting doesn't exist in her world. After enduring all her sobbing and stuff, I hung up. I just read books all day, took some over-the-counter meds like Dr. Soren told me to, and then went to bed eventually, a little earlier than usual, too, but I almost died, so duh.
I ended up having another wet dream about Maverick Soren. Go figure.