✾

My mother takes the slowly rotting flowers, the bouquet of artificially dyed daisies wrapped in rubber bands by the stem and film of plastic. Between her fingers is a tobacco cigarette she puts out using the ash tray on the kitchen table, giving her full attention to my father. He stands with his shoulders down, his gaze meeting my mother's with his fake shy blue eyes — blue eyes that contain patches of brown.

"I have a lot I need to apologize for," he says, and he does say sorry for hitting her and being so disrespectful and everything. When his whole speech is over, the one I've heard him say a lot, my mother sets the daisies on the table so that she can forget they existed again. She wraps her frail arms with yellow bruises around his torso, and he holds her waist with one hand while stroking her thick, dark brown hair using the other.

The old cigarette smoke still lingers in the air, and I can smell it from my spot behind the wall where I watch them. In my hand is a cheap toy car made out of plastic that Dad got me, when he apologized for pulling my arm out of its socket once a few months ago. I didn't know what that meant but Mom said that's what happened, and I just know it hurt real bad.

When Dad apologizes, that's when I know he'll hit Mom some time again. That's why I sit where I'm at, behind walls. That or I listen from other rooms. I've become a really good listener.

A few days later he does hit mom. They argue about money, and how Dad has been making money and not spending it on the right things. That's when I start to smell the cigarette smoke. Mom wants a job but Dad says she can't get one. She says if she wants to, she can leave and go wherever she wants, but she won't because of me. And Dad slaps her for it, and tells her he just wanted her to 'honor and obey' like their wedding vows said.

He takes her by the arm, which I see with my own eyes when I'm hiding behind the wall. But he doesn't spare a single glance at me, because he takes mom into their bedroom and he slams the door. And she says she doesn't want to and that she'll run away if he 'does it.' But he tells her to 'Shh.'

I don't know what goes on behind the door, if he hits her more, or if it's something else I don't know about. This doesn't happen often, but it's always after he gets her the dying daisies.

"Pierce," Iris comes up to me, her eyes going up and down myself. "Thanks a lot, for getting Logan off of me. I didn't think you'd show up." She slurs a lot, stumbling and blinking fast to keep her eyes steady.

"How many drinks have you had tonight, Iris?" I ask.

She laughs, shrugging. "Good question, Pierce. Hey, where's Sophie?"

"She fell asleep on the couch," I tell her. "She went with Julian and they got drunk, but they don't quite seem quite as bad as you do."

She stares at me blankly, blinking a few times but not saying a word. After an awkward moment, I slowly ask, "What? Is there something on my face?"

"I said Logan's eyes are shiny," she says, "but yours aren't. Yours are dark. Your eyes though, they make you look sad. Are you sad?"

I shake my head with a chuckle. "No, I'm not sad. We need to get out of here, it looks like you're way too intoxicated."

"We will. But the thing about your eyes is that they shine from the dark. Reflections. But his shine because they're... I don't know, but his are shallow when I look at yours." She blinks up at me, the lipstick faintly smeared off from Logan.

"Everyone's eyes shine in one way or another. I'm going to get Sophie and Julian, okay? Stay here and if someone tries to do anything to you, kick them where—"

"Okay, I get it." She impatiently lets out a deep exhale. "Go and I'll wait."

After pulling Sophie and Julian off of the couch as a way to wake them up, Sophie slaps my hand and mumbles something about having a headache. Julian doesn't really care, he actually leans on my shoulders and whispers loudly to me, "That girl is mine."

Sophie gets picked up by her older brother, who warns her about how Dad is going to be furious. Sophie shrugs it off and says she's being normal "so he can deal." Julian rides home with another dude here and I end up alone in the car with Iris, whose head is spinning. Literally, because she's trying to hold it up.

"How're you not all doozy?" she asks in the passenger's seat, her hands fumbling as she struggles with getting her seatbelt buckled. After it clicks, her head goes back and rests on the seat.

"I didn't drink."

She gasps, but not enough to move her head. "My head weighs a thousand pounds. You know, I didn't think I would either, but then I got scared and decided it didn't matter. And I feel like I'm gonna barf all over your car."

"Please don't."

"I might."

"Just, I don't know, drink water? There might be some in the back seat. And if you have to puke, Princess, puke out the window."

"Princess of Puke. Princess. Why do you call me Princess? It makes me sound like... I don't know, a Princess? But I'm not a Princess, I spend my free time on my knees scrubbing tiles and dusting shelves that just gather dust all over again. Princesses are pretty, but I have brown eyes and a wide nose and weird lips and my shoulders are too wide too."

"That's all in your head."

"My dad's gonna kill me!" She suddenly shoots up from her recent position. "And he has no idea where I'm even at, oh God. But I'll call him and tell him I'm at Sophie's and I'm on my way home!"

"Don't call him, you're too drunk, Princess. Just have me text him so it's clear enough and tell me what to say. Are you sure you want to go home like that? You're kinda blowing your cover anyway."

"Better idea! I stay with you and tell him I'm at Sophie's tonight. Then I come home early tomorrow and he doesn't think a thing."

"Great idea," I play along.

✾

I tie her hair back into a bun as she keeps her head over the toilet, slouching and sitting on her knees. Her hair is soft in my hands, and there's a lot of it I have to tie back. She keeps trying to talk to me through her gags.

"Thank you—" she gags, "for— for helping me."

"Anytime, Princess. Don't talk anymore, alright? Focus on getting that out of your system since that's what your body wants. Then I have a spare toothbrush you can use and you can take a shower. I probably have some shirts and maybe a pair of shorts or something you can take when you get out."

She nods, taking my advice on not talking. She gestures for me to leave the room, so I do so and close the bathroom door behind me. Following that comes the noise of liquid splashing on liquid a few times.

While she's getting ready, I get some clothes together for her and keep them folded outside of bathroom for her to take when she wants them. I make my over to get her some water and then watch TV to pass the time.

Shining eyes, eh? Maybe because science reflected lights onto irises, and that way, everybody's eyes shine. There's just no way in h*ll my eyes would be brighter than Logan's — so yeah, maybe more "deep," but to be honest, you'd think surviving with my struggles and my past would give me more than just a pair of eyes that look a certain way. People say eyes are the window to the soul, but if you know how to shut the windows and pull the curtains over them, it might as well be another wall.

"So I'm tired," Iris announces as she walks out of the bathroom, "and I want to sleep on the couch." Her hair is wet and it goes down her shoulders dripping, although she pays it no mind. Her face is clean from makeup, revealing her naturally clear skin and the bags under her eyes. She's wearing the clothes I gave her of course, a white T-shirt and some regular black pants. She looked better in them than I did.

"Here, take the water," I tell her, handing her the glass. "And the bed's more comfortable."

"I'm used to the couch and I want to sleep on it."

"You sure?"

"Without a doubt."

I nod acceptingly, and she takes a drink as I get up and take a few blankets and a pillow. I toss them on the couch and she sits on it, setting the drink on the table and pulling a blanket over her shoulders. "Thanks for everything you did tonight," she tells me, closing her eyes. "Getting Logan away and taking care of me and all that. You're the best."

"No problem, Princess. Good night."

✾