Page 51 of Iris Kelly Doesn't Date

The two of them laughed for a good two minutes, so much so that Iris’s stomach muscles started hurting. Stevie had a great laugh, soft, but strong and passionate.

“Wow, I needed that,” Iris said, sitting back against the warm wood, her legs splayed. “You’ll have to thank the girl you puked on for the comic relief. From me to her.”

Stevie grinned. “I’ll do that.”

Iris gazed up at the ceiling, reality settling back in again. “I dated her. The blond one. Her name is Jillian.”

Then, the whole story spilled out. She didn’t want to talk about it, but at the same time, shedid. She wanted to explain to Stevie, but she also just felt heavy, like the words and feelings of the entire ordeal were stuck to her ribs, slowing down her movements and thoughts.

When she was finished, she leaned her head against the wall, suddenly exhausted.

“So that’s my sad little story,” Iris said. “Want to hear about my boyfriend of three years who dumped me because I didn’t want to have his babies? That’s a good one too.” Iris rolled her head to look at Stevie, because at some point, she’d moved next to Iris, still holding her bathing suit to her chest, wet hair frizzing around her face.

“None of that was your fault,” Stevie said.

“What? The babies or the cheating wife?”

“Both,” Stevie said.

“Yeah, my friends all say the same thing.”

“Of course they do. But maybe you need to hear it from someone who barely knows you and has no stake in the game. Because it doesn’t seem like you quite believe it.”

Iris shook her head, looked away. “I believe it.” But even to her own ears, her voice sounded hollow. “It’s just... do you ever feel like theyouyou want to be isn’t the person anyone else wants?”

Stevie laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Yeah. All the fucking time.”

Iris tilted her head. “Why?”

Stevie sighed and pulled one leg up on the bench, wrapped an arm around her knee. “I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Have since I was a kid. And it makes things... tricky. I don’t always know what’s going to trigger my anxiety, and it’s like, the whole fucking world won’t slow down, you know? To keep up, I have todoandbeandactand move to that city and say no to that person and be fine when my ex says we should break up even though I’m terrified to do life by myself.”

“And be fine when that ex starts dating your best friend?” Iris asked. She hadn’t exactly been told that Vanessa was Stevie’s close friend, but she got that vibe—that queer coven energy she knew and loved well.

Stevie sighed, shrugging. “Yeah. And Iamfine.”

Iris smiled. “Just like I believe it’s not my fault.” She and Stevie watched each other for a few seconds, seconds that suddenly made Iris want to pull Stevie to her, bury her face into her neck and breathe in deep.

“This isn’t very romantic,” Iris finally said. She needed to break this spell.

“No, it’s not. And it’s hot as ever-loving fuck.” Stevie wiped at her forehead, slicking her hair back, then grew serious again. “Do you want to go back to the pool?”

“Not even a little.”

“Oh thank god,” Stevie said. “I mean, Icouldpay two hundred bucks for a club bathing suit, but then I wouldn’t be able to buy groceries for like a month, so.”

“Understood.”

Still, neither woman moved. It was true Iris didn’t want to risk seeing Jillian again or explain to her friends what had happened, but she also didn’t want to go home.

She didn’t want Stevie to go home.

For the first time in a long time, despite her encounter with Jillian, she felt... relaxed. She wasn’t thinking about her disaster of a book. She wasn’t thinking about how things were changing in her friend group. She wasn’t thinking about how everyone seemed to be moving on, growing, changing without her.

She simplywas, with another disaster by her side—because Stevie was one hundred percent an adorable disaster—and it felt like that first gulp of cold water after a long hike.

“You know, pumpkin,” she said, sitting up and wrapping her towel back around her waist, “I think I could go for a super queer and witchy flat white.”

Stevie lifted a brow. “Really.”