Sometimes I feel like I’m not myself. Like I am acting like a girl named Iris Hart, but I am truly someone else.
I
wandered through our school’s library searching for a book for my next
reading project. I pulled a book from the shelf with a bright red spine
and golden letters. It was titled loveless I
opened it up and flipped to the story’s description. It was a tragic
love story between a boy and girl. It sounded very average, but I took
it with me anyways. Romance was my favorite genre and I read all the
time.
I
checked out the book and grabbed my backpack before leaving. I walked
the three blocks home, since it was a beautiful summer evening. When I
came home there was a bit of a commotion outside. The house next to mine
had been sold recently and the new family was just moving in. My
parents and older brother, Chris, were outside helping them carry in
furniture. I thought I should help to so I dropped my things inside and
headed over to them.
“Hi guys. I’m back.”
“Great, honey. Do you think you could help me with this couch?” My dad asked, lifting one side of a tan, leather couch.
I
nodded and went over and lifted the other side. We carried it up the
porch and squeezed it through the doorway. I had never been inside our
neighbor’s house before and it was much larger inside than it appeared
from the outside. There was a large family room when you walked in with a
triangle ceiling and skylights. We set the couch down in the middle of
the room beside two matching chairs and I wiped my hands on my jeans
shorts. Someone peaked around from the hallway and came toward us.
“Holly, this is my daughter Iris. Iris this is your new neighbor Mrs. Holly Riddle.” She smiled at me and I shook her hand.
“Please
just call me Holly.” She said sweetly. She had short blond hair and a
smile so big her gums showed. She looked like one of those people who
were overly caring and sweet to everyone.
“Nice
to meet you, Holly.” I replied awkwardly. It felt strange calling her
Holly, given she was probably in her 40s and I was only 16. Her husband
Rob came to greet me too and we shook hands. He also requested I call
him by his first name.
“We
have a son, Jack. He’s your age, but I’m not sure where he got off
too.” She glanced around and then faced me again. “I’m sure you’ll meet
him soon, he’ll be going to school with you too.” She said. She gave me
another too-big smile and left to gather more boxes.
I
followed my father outside and we spent another good hour unloading
brown boxes and classy furniture. Their white, paneled house started to
look like a mansion next to our small, brick one.
We
finally finished sorting and I sat on the grass to catch my breath from
all the lifting. Jack had still not shown himself and my dad invited
our new neighbors to a barbeque at our house. I led them through the
wood gate to our back yard and pulled up some lawn chairs around the
small, wood table.
While
my dad grilled some burgers and chatted with the new neighbors I
decided to take a walk. The sun was just setting on the orange sky, but
it was still bright out. I walked around our block and stopped when I
spotted someone collapsed on the ground beside a red bike. He laid
uncomfortably on the concrete parking lot in front of an abandoned
restaurant. I looked closer and noticed blood coming from a deep cut in
his calf.
I
rushed over and bent down beside him, he looked about my age and had
soft, black hair with bangs. “Are you alright?” I asked him and he
looked up at me. He had the most beautiful caramel, brown eyes I had
ever seen. They were flooded by tears and showed horrible pain. He
choked back the tears and tried to sit up.
“I
don’t think I can walk.” He said in a hoarse voice. I looked closer at
his wound and it was bleeding heavily. Not bad enough to go to the
hospital, but he still must have been in a lot of pain. I put his arm
around me and helped him up.
“I’ll take you to my house and my mom can fix you up, she’s a nurse. And we can call your parents to come get you then, too.”
He
nodded in agreement, but pointed to his bent, red bike lying on the
ground. “I got it.” I said and in my other hand grabbed it, struggling
to balance him on my shoulder and roll the bike beside me.
He
limped on one foot resting some of his weight on me while we walked
slowly to my house, a block away. We didn’t talk the whole way, but it
wasn’t awkward. I think he was in too much pain to say anything. By the
time we got to my house his bleeding had slowed, but his leg and shoe
were covered in it. We went around back, but my parents had moved inside
since the weather had cooled down. I helped him into a lawn chair and
went inside to retrieve my mother. I explained the whole story to her
and she rushed outside with a first aid kit, followed by my father, our
new neighbors, and myself.
“Jack!”
Holly exclaimed as she saw the boy. She bent over him inspecting his
leg as my mother cleaned him up. Robert also rushed to his side, looking
shocked.
I
was still a little confused though. “Jack?” I asked. Though no one
answered me. All attention was on Jack. Holly and Robert started
throwing questions at him and I slowly put the pieces together:
This
was Jack, their son and my new neighbor. He had been riding his bike
home when a branch got tangled in the front tire of his bike. Before he
could stop, the bike snapped sideways and he was thrown off. He hurt his
leg and couldn’t stand up. He was going to call for help, but his phone
had broken when he landed and no one was around to hear him, until I
came by.
My
mom finished addressing his wounds, saying he would be fine, and
retreated inside to put the first aid kit away. Before she even came
back out though, the Riddle family had disappeared to their own house,
Jack walking with his arm around his father.
It
was only eight-thirty, but I was already exhausted. I fled to my room,
skipping dinner, and collapsed on my bed. I hadn’t meant to, but as soon
as my head hit the pillow I fell asleep.