The Purple Iris

chapter four: fourth day

Thursday morning hurriedly came around, with one more day left to end the work week. 

Well, in my case, the school week. Same difference. 

The airy fall morning began with my alarm clock blaring noisily beside me, waking me from a deep sleep. I carelessly tossed the cheap clock, already annoyed. What annoyed me more was what my brain decided to embody for a dream. Dark slick waves of curls, shining green eyes that could see right through me. A thin sheen of sweat spread across my forehead and back, probably from the lack of breeze in my room. My apartment wasn't the best, but it was my very own place of solace. 

I swung my legs over the crappy frame of my twin sized mattress, thankful it hasn't broken beneath my weight after years of wear. Groggily, my tired eyes met my disheveled reflection; bedhead arising in every direction on my scalp. Dark circles hung under my eyes, although I went to bed at a reasonable time.

Or did I?

After leaving work, I drove home in silence. My heart never stopped its incessant pounding, even after several minutes of bidding goodbye to Mr. Morris. After visiting the shop Monday morning, he returned Tuesday. I was quietly delighted at his patronage, and it was refreshing to see him in a new light outside of school. We spoke briefly, as we both had our own things to attend to. He graded classwork again, his corner table with papers spread along its surface. While adding more napkins and straws to the lobby, he called me over. I hid my bashfulness, and presumed. Holding up the thin notepaper with a bold 96 written in red ink, he gave a gentle smile.

"Nice work, you wrote this well." 

My name was scribbled in messy cursive at the top right corner, along with that day's date. My heart leapt at the complement, but I stubbornly remained humble. "Thanks." I almost stuttered.

The workday ended the same way it did before, except he didn't return with anymore of my lost belongings. Thankfully.

With two days in a row, Mr. Morris awarded me his hushed company. I acted as if it were nothing, until he walked past the shop's threshold the very next day. Last night drug by, Moon Bean's not hosting too many patrons that peaceful Wednesday night. Once I returned home, I changed into a comfortable pair of old sweatpants, completing more homework. Around 10 or 11, is when I finally crashed to sleep.

Quickly showering, removing my body of the previous night's work. I scrubbed deep into my scalp, strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner permeating the wet locks. I always managed to never change my alarm clock, waking up with just enough time to shower and dress. The outfit of the day were a pair of black jeans ripped at the knees, with a burnt orange colored sweater. The sweater was a bit big as I liked it, hem ending a little below my waist. For footwear, were my beat-up checkered slip-on Vans; completing my casual fall look. 

Class started abruptly at 8:25 a.m. each day, yet I still couldn't seem to make it on time. Traffic was always god awful, and I couldn't get my body moving fast enough this early. At least I was trying, seeing as how my previous year's attendance was horrible. With my bookbag in hand and car keys in the other, it was time to leave. Cutting across my teeny sized living area, I pressed a kiss to a framed photo of mom.

"Miss you more." I sniffed.

It was a mantra we'd throw back at one another, each time I'd go to school or she'd leave home to run errands. Although it'd been nearly eight years, her passing never got any easier. Nothing since then has been easy. Adulthood was knocking at my door, along with the big plans for my future. I was beyond ready to experience it all, to escape the crappy memories of the stolen childhood I should've had in this town. But everything I do, is in hope that maybe wherever she is now, mom would be proud.

After racing to the campus, I hardly managed to get inside the main building on time. Kaylen and Billie waited at our meetup spot, playfully scolding me for never waking up earlier. Kaylen surveyed my outfit, her gaze meeting with the large slits in my skinny jeans.

"You realize that you'll get caught for dress code, right?" She chided.

I lazily shrugged my shoulders. "Hm, sorry. Are my knees distracting you that badly?"

Billie snorted, half expecting my retort. "Right? I don't get dress code. Punish the girls, but the guys? Psh, they never get in trouble." She thoughtfully added.

As if in unison, Kaylen and I nodded our heads. On cue, the first bell blared across the school, warning students to head to their first period classes. All three of us sped walked to room 04, not wanting to procrastinate the inevitable. The classroom was vacant, not even Mr. Morris being present at his desk. It was surprising to say the least, being at how he was punctually at attention every morning. I placed the day's class materials on my desk, finally getting into the routine of things. We were currently studying Shakespeare's works, now reading Midsummer Night's Dream. Of course, I already knew the moral of the story, if you could actually call it that. It was more lighthearted and comedic, in comparison to the tragedies' Shakespeare often composed.

Slowly, the room began to audibly grow an audience; chairs scuffing across the white tile and aged books flying open on desks. With the seats nearly full, Mr. Morris casually stridden into the classroom. He wore a pair of khaki pants, with a long-sleeved turquoise striped button-up neatly tucked in. A brown leather belt looped around his dress pants, with spotless oxford shoes of the same color. The dark mop on his head was styled in its usual manner: messy yet somehow polished. 

I averted my gaze, hoping he didn't catch me assessing his outfit. I felt a nudge against my arm, and nearly jumped out of my seat in surprise. Billie winked teasingly, and I realized why.

"I wasn't staring, dumbass." I mouthed with a frown.

She rolled her eyes, the same childlike grin on her face. "Sure." She mouthed in return.

The second bell rang, and the classroom door shut shortly afterwards. There were a few stragglers, who awkwardly stumbled into their seats. Mr. Morris brought his paperback copy of Midsummer Night's Dream to the front of the room, along with a few other notes on a podium. He ran a hand through his hair, a cute habit I quickly noticed he adapted. 

"Good morning, class." He warmly greeted.

A plethora of hello's and good morning's sounded, even a random 'yo teach' thrown into the mix. Mr. Morris removed a bookmark from his book, revealing the last page we'd read as a group.

"Okay guys, let's get right into it today. Please open your books to act two, scene one."

Pages fluttered open, each person complying with the easy instruction. The play itself wasn't very lengthy, but we discussed the meaning behind each scene. It was actually entertaining, especially listening to Mr. Morris convey the more sensual aspects of the story. Of course, the guys of the class roared in laughter every time. 

With that, sixty minutes zoomed by.

The plot of the play was nearing it c****x, the pesky fairy meddling in the human character's of the story. It held semblance to me, crinkling my nose in annoyance. Why did everything have to be so troublesome?

French IV was next, however it was an elective Billie didn't choose; she instead, chose Spanish. Kaylen and I sat in the same seats in the corner of the room each of the other three years, this one no different. My peers were mostly the same, a few new faces joining the diverse mix. 

Before I could check the time, it was lunchtime. 

Being a senior in high school held very few advantages, one of them being the freedom to leave campus. If you had a car, that is. I hardly ever left school grounds to buy lunch, but this was one of the days I chose to. I had a craving for chicken nuggets, and it was a well deserved treat. I was doing well with my classes, however muddling through the heap of overdue homework I had. Progress was being made and that's all that mattered to me at the end of the day. 

I texted the lunch plans to my friends, waiting for their hurried replies. We opted on a chicken fast food chain, and car pooled in my old sedan. Music blared through the speakers, Billie being the designated passenger dj for the ride. Once parked, we three went inside the restaurant. The smell of fried chicken wafted through the air, bodies hustling in a hurry to get a taste. Kaylen suggested a quaint corner booth, and she took our orders to the front counter. I began to scroll through social media on my phone, listening to Billie's daily dose of gossip.

"-can you believe that, though?" Billie huffed irritably. 

I gave a small nod, thoughts miles away from the conversation. Eyes still glued to my device, I heard someone clear their throat. My gaze followed the source of the sound, meeting the annoyed eyes of my best friend.

"Were you even listening, Rainie??" She questioned.

Not really.

"Sorry, sorry. I heard bits and pieces, though." I admitted with an apologetic smile.

She shook her head at me, crossing her arms over her chest. "Apology not accepted if you don't tell me what's up with you."

"What's up with me?" I repeated.

Billie ran a hand through her freshly dyed apple red hair, obviously displeased with my ignorance. "You've been so... Distant lately. Like something's on your mind, y'know?" She explained.

I pursed my lips, unsure of how to answer. Was something on my mind? What wasn't on my mind, is the real question. With it being senior year, my studies and work all piling onto my lap at once. Forever wondering if I'll make ends meet, considering I'm literally on my own. 

Billie sighed, noticing the way I furthered deep into thought. "You know what, nevermind. You don't have to tell me, but I'd like to know what's bothering my best friend." 

I shook my head, giving her a frown. "I don't mind telling you, but I just... Don't know where to start. It's a lot, Billie."

She listened as I explained my worries, with school and my financial endeavors. Her and Kaylen knew these things, but the anxiety grew nonetheless. I was always so used to fighting my battles alone, bottling up the insecurities with a fake smile. But then I became acquainted with my friends, and I've been so much better ever since. Meeting them was a great fortune and I can't seem to tell them that enough.

Kaylen arrived to the table with a tray full of food, including a 12 count box of chicken nuggets for me. We ate with haste, being mindful of our allotted time for lunch. After refilling our beverages, we piled back into my car. We talked about the typical high school girl things, including crushes and who we thought was hot. Speaking of which...

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you both this but Mr. Morris is kind of a regular at Moon Beans."

"What the hell?! How did you forget to tell us this?" Kaylen exclaimed, now sitting in the passenger seat.

I shrugged my shoulders, still concentrating on the road ahead of me. "This week has been busy for me, so I just forgot." I replied casually.

Billie scoffed, and Kaylen rolled her eyes. "Such an important thing to forget, Rainie. But explain yourself! What happened??" Kaylen continued curiously.

"Well, it's a coffee shop. I serve him coffee, and occasionally talk about idle topics like school." 

"Oh, bullshit. There's got to be more than that." Billie added suggestively.

"Nah, not really." 

I wasn't exactly lying. There wasn't much more to say about it all. I mentioned the generous tip Mr. Morris left me, earning gazes of awe from them both. I also talked about how he always sat in the same spot, fixated on the current day's paperwork to grade.

"Is that hot coworker of yours still messing with you?" Kaylen wondered.

Ah, Daniel.

"Of course he is. But I've noticed something; He won't talk to me while Mr. Morris is there."

"Wow, not weird at all." Billie spoke sarcastically. 

"Right?" Kaylen added.

I was weird, actually. Although our conversations are short with Mr. Morris, Daniel will hardly even look in my direction. Usually, he'd push his way into any conversation I'd be involved in. But lately, he's ceased his usual shenanigans.

"He's weird, but I still think he's hot." 

Out of reflex, I cringed. I was so annoyingly accustomed to hearing Kaylen say that. Billie felt the same as me, agreeing that Danny was gross.

"Attractive or not, that dude's still a freak." Billie retorted.

Lunchtime was over and done with, and I gave a pleasant goodbye to Billie. Billie parted with Kaylen and I to her block period, as we headed in the direction of the library. Kaylen was the librarian's assistant, and I was returning to scramble through more copious amounts of homework. During today's visit, I was going to focus on English. The previous days were spent on Marine Biology and Algebra, two of my worst subjects. Mr. Morris assigned a rather extensive set of worksheets. They focused on the current scenes we've read in Midsummer Night's Dream, and he wanted each of us to convey our thoughts on each one. One of the requirements for the classroom materials was the use of pens, either blue or black. Using a pen seemed more 'professional', unlike the traditional pencil. 

I reread the scene in my borrowed copy of the play, before scrawling out my responses onto the page. Just as I was ready to write, my pen seemed to be out of ink. 

Dumbass pen.

Huffing out of my seat, I went to the front desk. Kaylen was seated at the computer, explaining to an underclassman that they needed to sign in before entering the library. And as if on cue, Mr. Morris showed up right behind the student. He patiently waited for the student ahead of him to finish, then he neatly signed his name on the sign-in sheet. There were two sets of sheets attached to clipboards, one for the use of the conference rooms and the other for general entrance. I awkwardly stood there, waiting for him to walk away. Before I could muster a sentence, he noticed my brooding presence.

"Good afternoon, Rainie." He greeted warmly.

My eyes darted to Kaylen, who was silently watching the scene before her. She suggestively winked at me, biting back a grin. I glanced back at the face of Mr. Morris, and gave my best smile. "Hi." was all I managed to say.

Over his left shoulder was a vintage leather satchel, his stance casual as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "There's no need to be shy, you know." Mr. Morris added, showing me more of his dazzling smile.

My heart lurched, a familiar warm fluttering in my stomach. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kaylen's mouth go wide in awe. I was probably turning fifty shades of red, with how embarrassed I was. 

"K-Kaylen, do you have a spare pen?" I quickly turned towards her, attempting to ignore his comment. 

Kaylen nodded, just as shocked as me. She quickly placed a pen on the counter, and I snatched it up. I thanked her quietly, and noticed Mr. Morris was no longer standing idly in the same place. Instead, he was a few feet away, speaking with the very same female teacher I saw a few days prior. Her name was on the tip of my tongue, yet I couldn't place what it was. She seemed to be around the same age, with long blonde hair. It was delicately curled, probably thanks to an expensively branded curling iron. She wore a black knee length pencil skirt, and a pale pink blouse tucked in with nude pumps. Her body language was obviously meant to be conveyed as someone flirting, and I felt myself become slightly nauseous at the sight.

Mentally scoffing, I returned to my seat in the usual room I'd borrow every day; unless there was a teacher's only meeting going on. I kept the door left open, but I chose to sit in the opposite direction; casting out any further distractions. 

I bit my lip in frustration, still grossed out by the public display of flirting. I carefully wrote my short paragraph, taking time to switch back and forth to the book. I continuously read my own words, shortly realizing I could've elaborated things differently. Finally satisfied, I flipped over to the next page.

"You forgot a question."

I yipped in surprise, flinching. I twisted around in the chair, and saw the intruder. Low and behold, my English teacher.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare 'ya."

Composing my frightened expression, I turned back around in the chair, facing away from him. "Yeah, whatever." I replied with a pout.

"Yeah, whatever? Geez, did I sound like that as a teenager?" Mr. Morris said jokingly.

He walked from behind me, placing his satchel in front of a chair opposite of me. He quietly pulled the chair out, seating himself. I watched, engrossed by how he basically invited himself to my table. 

"Sorry, sir...?" I asked, wondering if he felt disrespected.

Mr. Morris chuckled lightly, continuing to empty the contents of his worn leathered bag onto the surface of the table. "Sir? I'm not that old, you know." He replied curtly.

A strand of his hair fell into his face, while he fished out a writing utensil from one of the pockets. Without missing a beat, he tucked the loose strand somewhere back in the mess of tresses. In front of him, was the same copy of Midsummer Night's Dream I had. 

"Well, what was the last page we left off on? Let's see.. Ah, here."

He flipped through the pages, locating the bookmark he stashed to mark the last scene our class had read. I was bewildered, wondering what awarded me his unannounced presence.

"I don't mean to intrude, but I came by to check on your progress. Mrs. Smith, your guidance counsellor, asked me to check on you." 

Ah, I see. He was asked to do this. Then I remembered how grossly suggestive she was with Mr. Morris' good looks. 

"Wow, sounds about right." I frowned.

"Whatcha mean?" Mr. Morris questioned innocently.

I shook my head, not wanting to delve into that kind of conversation. "Nothing worth mentioning, really." 

Mr. Morris scanned over my face, waiting to detect a fib. I nearly broke out in a sweat from his watchful eyes, quickly averting my attention back to the worksheet. Finally, he cleared his throat and I met his gaze. 

"Well, if you say so. Sorry to intrude, though. But that's what teachers are for! To help their students on their path to learning." He cheerily explained. 

I snorted, crossing my legs underneath the table. "That's laying it on a bit thick, Teach."

"Whoops, my bad. I guess I'm still trying to figure out this whole thing. "said Mr. Morris.

"Thing? What thing?" I pondered.

He shrugged his shoulders. "How to talk to students, I guess. I'm not that much older than you, but I still need to seem more... Mature?"

"You care that much, huh?"

Mr. Morris nodded, folding his hands together atop the table. "Of course. I chose this profession and I intend to do it right. Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?" 

I smiled, more so to myself than at him. High school teachers like him were a rarity, and you could plainly hear his compassion as he speaks about his profession. It was... Enlightening, seeing Mr. Morris so enthusiastic about being a teacher.

"Yeah. It is." 

During the rest of the fourth/fifth period block, Mr. Morris helped me with my classwork. It was actually enjoyable, if I'm being honest. I thought I'd slip up and something that out of character, with how nervous he makes me. But this time it felt so normal. I'll have to thank Mrs. Smith for this, later.

"Don't tell your classmates that I kind of helped you cheat the answers, 'kay." He grinned.

I nodded, as I neatly organized my materials back into my worn backpack. He did the same, then checked the time on his watch. The bell was bound to ring within a matter of minutes, and I mentally sighed at how the tutoring session had practically flown by. 

I scuffled out of the conference room, with Mr. Morris in tow. I scanned the library, and noticed how empty it seemed compared to earlier. The same attractive teacher I saw speaking to Mr. Morris was still here, and I couldn't resist frowning. She somehow noticed the two of us, and almost glided over to where we stood. 

"You're still in here? How come I didn't see you?" She asked, directed to Mr. Morris.

"Oh, I was in a tutoring session with one of my students." He nodded in my direction. 

She glanced over to me, her eyes glazed over with a false politeness. "So dutiful, aren't you." 

"That's me." Mr. Morris awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, Theo. If you have any spare time later, could you maybe text me? I had something I needed to ask you." 

Ew, barf?

"Just ask me now, if you don't mind. I'm hardly on my phone these days." He admitted curtly.

The woman's eyes widened, clearly taken back.  "Oh, uh. It's a bit personal, so-"

"I'm going to just go." I interrupted, not bothering to hide my annoyance. The two teachers met my gaze, then looked at each other. 

"Thanks for the help today, it means a lot." I added, deciding to remove myself from the odd setting.

"You're welcome, Rainie." Mr. Morris replied curtly, studying my features.

I hurriedly left the library, not wanting to intrude any further into whatever the hell was going on between those two. Something about that lady rubbed me the wrong way, but those thoughts were soon replaced as the ending bell rang. I caught up with Kaylen, and walked alongside her until we parted for our few remaining classes.

Seventh period came and went, the final bell sounding once everyone's clocks turned to 3:10 p.m. I texted Billie and Kaylen, letting them know that I needed to make a quick stop before departing for home. I knocked on the door of my guidance counsellor's office, Mrs. Smith. My foot impatiently tapped against the shiny tiled floor, waiting for her to finally greet me inside.

"Rainie, welcome." She smiled.

"Yeah, yeah. We've gotta talk, Smith." I replied in annoyance.

We typically threw away most formalities, including the way we addressed each other. If anything, Mrs. Smith seemed more like an aunt to me than what she really was. It was thanks to my previous record of suspension and 'troublemaking', but I was thankful for knowing another person that's somewhat pleasant in this god forsaken school.

I plopped down into my usual seat, and she took hers at her desk. She took out a nail file, and began to casually file them as she listened to me speak.

"I didn't know you asked Mr. Morris to watch over me." 

"Oops, I guess I forgot to mention that, huh." She smirked, still paying attention to her nails.

"That's kind of important, you know. But, I'm thankful so... Thanks, I guess." I spoke quietly, eyes averted on my hands in my lap.

Mrs. Smith lazily leaned back into her office chair, crossing her legs. "Told you he's a hunk."

"What the- Can you please maintain a little professionalism?" I hissed, nearly jumping out of my chair. 

She simply rolled her eyes. "You're such a dork, Gray. Anyways, how'd you know? Did he tell you?"

I nodded, settling back into my seat. "He even helped me with my English assignments, during my block period." 

Mrs. Smith pursed her lips, seemingly surprised by this. "How sweet. However, I don't recall asking for him to interfere further than that." 

"What do you mean, interfere? He is my teacher, after all."

She straightened up in her chair, impassively placing a hand under her chin. "That, he is. But I merely asked him to occasionally survey you, while in attendance in his class."

My eyes turned to slants, unsure of what to say. "So?" 

"So? He did everything else on his own. Perhaps he just took a liking to you, and wanted to help a troubled student." Mrs. Smith added nonchalantly.

My mouth twisted into a frown at the use of the word 'troubled', considering it was implied towards me. I wasn't troubled; I just made a poor choice. 

"Well, Gray. If that's all, shouldn't you be heading home? I know I'd like to do the same."

"Aren't you supposed to be guiding me? Y'know, like an actual guidance counsellor."

This earned a laugh at my expense, and I bitterly watched the woman chuckle. She quickly recovered, maintaining a somewhat more appropriate expression. "Gray, you know I like you. But you told me long ago that you didn't want to speak to me if I was going to be 'fake' with you. So— I'll be real with you." 

Perhaps that was what I appreciated the most about Mrs. Smith; there was zero bullshit. That's the sort of crap most school employees shoved down your throat: fraudulent concern. Whenever I was suspended towards the end of last year, my case was directed to Mrs. Smith. I won't lie, I was rude and absurdly opposed at the idea of having to speak to her on a weekly basis. Now, it all seems natural to conversate with her like this.

"Thanks, Smith." 

Mrs. Smith smiled wide at me, and it was an actual real genuine grin. "Anytime, dear. Have a good night." 

I met with my friends, and we quickly caught up on the few exciting topics of the day. Yet in the back of my mind, was the near two hours of time spent being tutored by Mr. Morris. I felt his watchful gaze, as I read aloud assigned passages of the play. How laid back he seemed, as if he wore a façade to others while being a teacher. I also thought about what Mrs. Smith said, and how he selflessly opted to help me.

I was seeing more and more of Mr. Morris, and I wasn't quite sure when's the last time I felt so content.