The walls in Foundation sites tended to be very thick. Even in relatively tame containment facilities like Site-17, most walls were required to be firebreaks, blast resistant, energetically insulated, and rated for loads far in excess of what they’d ever need to support. Much of the square footage of the containment sites was already underground, but the sparsely finished reinforced concrete gave the impression that much of it was chiseled straight from the bedrock. Nothing short of a grenade was going to make any noise in an adjacent room, and even the hum of the site’s electricity was totally arrested before even leaving the wires.
In short, the humanoid containment wing felt less like an apartment block and more like a large, orderly crypt. The inhabitants were dead to the world, and the world was dead to them. Were it not for the uncomfortable standard bedding provided to humanoid anomalies, the rooms would have been sensory deprivation chambers. This meant that two universal necessities for contained humanoids were an alarm clock and a small fan, just to remind them every morning that they weren’t dead. Neither appliance was standard issue, meaning they were effectively withheld from anomalies who recently arrived in their cells, be they newcomers or old inmates who returned just after their possessions had been recycled.
Iris wasn’t sure when she woke up, or if she had ever fallen asleep at all. It didn’t matter. All she wanted to do was lie motionless and think about nothing for a while, which was probably the one activity an unadorned containment cell was conducive to. She’d spent the past several days undergoing every test and completing every form imaginable, and it was only late last night that the administration became convinced that she was who she said she was and let her out of custody and into her old room, which had been thoroughly cleansed of the possessions of its previous inhabitants. So she came back home, showered, and flopped into her coffin like a good little corpse.
After god knows how long, Iris formed a single thought:
My back is itchy.
As much as she wanted to avoid thinking about it, that nagging sensation would prevent her from sleeping like she wanted. She eventually resolved to roll over and reach her arm around to scratch it. This, of course, only succeeded in waking her up more, but she stubbornly closed her eyes - if they weren’t closed already - and tried to fall back asleep. But once she was up, she was up, and she found herself idly prodding her chest in the darkness as if she needed to make sure it was still there. That she wasn’t really in a morgue.
Well, that wasn’t a pleasant thing to think about, and more than that, it wasn’t productive. Iris took a deep breath to tell her body it was back on the clock and pushed herself out of bed. Even if her old furniture had been thrown out, she still knew the room intimately enough to move around in complete darkness. She walked over to the bathroom and flipped on the light.
The bathroom was the real reason Iris had insisted on having her old room back. When she was fourteen, she’d enlisted Omega-7 to help her harass Site-17’s management to install a much larger shower, with a much nicer shower head, and a nice, dim yellow bulb above it. Her only real complaint with her younger self was that the tiling was stark white, but a shower rug solved this. That rug was gone, too, along with all of her soaps and cleaning supplies - just about the one thing Iris still bothered requesting. Whatever. She’d have to deign to ask Adams to take her out shopping today. Dealing with her for a few hours was preferable to waiting a week for her formal requests to come through, and the cheap soap they provided dried her skin out and didn’t help her relax like her floral washes did. But drying her skin out was preferable to smelling and feeling like a slob.
The shower itself was well-maintained, Iris noted as she turned the water on. Of course, she never allowed any sort of residue buildup in it herself, but it was nice to see there was no mold or anything in it. It must have been cleaned out before she arrived, probably by this section’s janitor -
Ah. Iris felt her fingers tense as her eyes fell back on the pearl-white floor. Right. They’d had cleaners in here, multiple times, since she left, not to mention the room’s ‘new’ inhabitant who had been moved on her account. She could picture their work boots tracking dirt into her room, under her bed, and all over the bathroom. Maybe they mopped, but they didn’t disinfect it. Iris found herself bristling at the intrusions - the first in about a decade - but knew she couldn’t blame any of those intruders, so her anger lingered idly in her breast with nowhere to go.
She laid a clean towel in front of the shower along with a clean pair of socks. She didn’t want to touch the dirty ground as soon as she cleaned herself. She’d disinfect the room later. Then it would be hers again.
Iris spent a long time in the shower, as she always did, since it wasn’t like she was the one paying the water bill. Scrubbed herself thoroughly with the generic soap that made her skin itchy. Washed her face, and behind her ears, with the cheap face wash that didn’t stop her from breaking out. Worked in the shampoo that left her hair feeling like dry reeds. She’d probably feel worse after the shower, but she’d be clean.
She stepped out of the shower, careful to stay on the towel, and only touch the side that hadn’t touched the ground. She dried herself off and put on her socks before she moved over to the mirror, feeling her skin contract and crack as she did so. She didn’t have any of her moisturizer - another thing she’d need to buy today. She showered every morning, making sure she didn’t smell or get any kind of filth on anything as a matter of courtesy, and as soon as she returned to her room every night, to make sure she didn’t track anyone else’s filth in. Thinking of this made her frown at the tiles again, but she disinfected her room regularly anyways. She’d just need to be extra thorough this time.
With that resolved, Iris turned her attention to the sink. The new toothbrush looked so flimsy that she wouldn’t be surprised if it started losing bristles before she was done with it, but she’d never gotten a cavity and wasn’t about to start now. She spent the two minutes it took to brush staring at the drain rather than the mirror.
Once she was done, and she moved to leave the bathroom, her calf touched the cold porcelain of her toilet. She frowned. One of the janitors would have used it while cleaning, of course. She took her socks off and got back in the shower to clean her leg again. She’d really have to buy some moisturizer later.
Once that was dealt with, and she had changed into a new pair of socks having dirtied the old ones, she threw on the one-size-fits-all (oversized) tracksuit that sat by itself in the cheap, plywood dresser next to her bed before falling back down onto the spot where she had been laying. The bed was small and hard, too. She wondered if Adams’ car could fit a queen size mattress in the back. Though she didn’t like the idea of having to lay down on a bunch of those display mattresses in the store - there’s no way they cleaned those. But she’d shower later.
Iris continued laying on the bed, letting the warm glow from the bathroom fall on her face. Even without an alarm clock to tell her the time, she had faith that her biological clock would not have allowed her to wake after 7:00, so it probably wasn’t breakfast time yet. As she stared at the ceiling, she wondered if Lily was similarly punctual.
Yes, I’m up.
Iris frowned. “You said you wouldn’t eavesdrop,” she said to her empty room.
And I wasn’t. I was simply as bored as you seem to be, so I was a bit more… hm, attentive? It’s dreadfully dull in here, so it would have been harder to ignore you.
“Well, can’t say I blame you,” Iris mumbled. “When’d you wake up?”
Ugh, I swear, a better question is when did I manage to sleep, but it’s not a question I’d be able to answer. Utterly agonizing, resting on this… this… refuse! You'd think the Foundation is going bankrupt! They can at least afford some silk, can't they?
“Mm. Put in a request and I’m sure they’ll get it to you.” Of course, it would be up to Lily to get the new fitted sheet on, but children cannot remain innocent forever. “Any idea what time it is?”
…
“Lily?”
…No. Keeping track of time with just one mind to experience it from is… something of a new experience.
Iris didn't like being reminded just how weird Lily was, so in place of a response, she got off of her bed and tried to open her door. If it was still locked, than it was before 6:00, and therefore far too early to concern herself with worldly plights.
The door swung open easily in spite of its size, and revealed a brightly lit but mostly empty hallway. The sparse decorations and signs did little to alleviate oppressive sterility of the interior’s construction, but Iris had come to find the site’s predictability comforting. She couldn't have been gone that long if everything looked the same.
The only people in the hall were a few guards and janitors. No doctors or anomalies. It was still before breakfast, but there was nothing for Iris to do besides go to the cafeteria and scavenge today’s newspaper for its crossword puzzle.
A few stretches, while she was still in her room, where nobody could see her. She thought to turn off the light before she left, but she wasn’t paying the electric bill, either. “You coming?”
Later. A woman needs her beauty sleep.
Suit yourself, Iris thought as she walked down to the cafeteria.
Her patented Slouch and Frown technique for keeping attention off of herself was a bit less effective when she was the only skip out at this hour, but all things considered there weren’t too many rubberneckers, and she wasn’t stopped by anyone, which told her that word of her arrival had gotten around the staff. Good. Fewer conversations later.
The cafeteria was as empty as Iris had expected, with most of the motion contained in the kitchen and only a few skips scattered around the large room. With a click of her tongue, she realized that one of the only other people who were even in the room had already seated herself at her table, but it didn’t look to be Anne, so she’d manage. She swiped a loose newspaper from one of the staff tables - the guard table, not the janitor’s - and moved towards her seat with a tense enough posture that it was clear to any who dared approach that she was crabby, but with a neutral enough expression to show that she was polite enough not to vocalize it.
The interloper, upon closer inspection, was Marya, looking a little bit more presentable and a fair bit more hostile than normal. A quick nod and a “Good morning” told Iris that her ire wasn’t directed at her, but she simmered as Iris sat down. It seemed like the vampiric woman was taking her frustrations out on a bowl of black candies, as she threw several into her mouth and ground them down like she was trying to infuse their flavor profile with tooth filings.
“Morning.” With a seat between the two of them, Iris opened the newspaper and flipped past all the headlines she didn’t have context for until she got to the comics and puzzles section, and skipped over all the jokes she didn’t get until she saw the puzzle with hints she probably also lacked the requisite knowledge to use.
Despite a valiant early effort mostly consisting of animals and turns of phrase, Iris ran into the inevitable roadblock of pop culture words, as her knowledge on that front started and ended with early 2010s Nickelodeon. The mounting frustration with the puzzle - The hell is the target audience supposed to be, anyways? - was only compounded by the gum smacking and tooth grinding next to her. Iris pushed the newspaper down in frustration, but its large, flopping pages made a louder sound that she had intended.
Marya’s fingers twitched in the middle of grabbing more candies. “Ah. Apologies.”
“Oh, no, I was just annoyed with the puzzle.” This was only a half-truth, but it wasn’t illegal to chew food in the cafeteria. Iris could suck it up, and Marya was generally one of the better tablemates she could have asked for. She knew how to shut up, a rare skill with Iris’ friends.
So she is your friend.
“That's not- Hey!”
Though Iris would have liked to scold Lily for eavesdropping, Marya’s I-think-you-have-a-concussion expression told her that she should keep her attention on what was in front of her. It was more satisfying to tell someone off in person, anyways, so that could wait.
At the very least, Iris’ outburst shook Marya out of whatever funk she was in. “I just had a rather tedious morning, that’s all,” she said, gracefully ignoring the earlier non sequitur.
“Like, annoying tedious or ‘fuck you’ tedious?” Iris asked.
Marya gave her another disappointed look that made her ears start to burn. It felt like she just let a curse out in front of her parents. “I mean, like, was it, uh…” Iris coughed.
“I was told I could assist with food preparation today and completed the requisite screening.” Marya spoke with a clear voice that betrayed none of the simmering indignation of her eyes. “When I arrived today, I was told, in the kitchen, that I, myself, am a - What was it? - biological hazard.”
Ah. ‘Fuck you’ tedious, then. Iris hung her head in a show of sympathy. “Well, that sucks. The staff here sucks at talking to other departments sometimes.”
“Oh, no, I think they’re doing just fine there.” Marya bit her contempt back, but Iris felt a fraction of it now directed at her. “How else would the security chief know to wait for me right there this morning?”
Iris wanted to look back down to her crossword puzzles, but felt that it would be rude. It was obvious what Marya was getting at, but still, she was being a little harsh - it’= wasn't like the staff got off on being dicks. But at the same time, she did get screwed, and best practice was shutting up until the other party cooled down. So Iris nodded, a gesture that was at once sympathetic and noncommittal.
Marya looked unconvinced. Even so, she took a few moments to calm herself, closing her eyes and forcing every muscle in her face to rest, then smiled at Iris. Whatever was gnawing at her earlier had been shunted away with practiced grace. “Well, at least I got some salmiakki out of it since the order already went through. You want a piece?”
The candies in the bowl had more in common with charcoal briquettes than anything Iris had eaten as a kid. “Thanks, but I try not to eat much sugar,” she replied. While technically true, it was spiritually a lie.
“Bah. You kids only like the sweet stuff,” Marya muttered to herself.
By now, a few skips had begun to stream into the cafeteria and mill about, starting conversations and bringing a low murmur to the room. Now that it felt less like a library, Iris figured it would be good to start up a slightly more pleasant conversation to start the day. Or at least a more informative one.
“Well, I’m surprised they let you-” Wait. No, that, uh, sounded bad. “I mean, it’s good that you were let out-” Not quite. Iris kicked herself. “Well, it’s good to see that you’re… um…” Considering what they had just finished talking about, Iris was now second-guessing the wisdom of asking ‘Why didn’t you get thrown in a pit forever for being scary a couple months ago?’
“Spare me.” Marya sighed. If she had been offended, she didn’t show it. In keeping with her ingrained politeness, she returned the 'compliment.' “And it’s good to see you as well, since you…”
Her complement remained incomplete as well. She looked like someone who was about to go to sleep only to realize they'd forgot to dry their bedsheets from the wash.
Oh boy, here it comes. Iris had been mentally rehearsing this for the past week. She had faith in the pacing of the story, now, and even workshopped which parts to embellish with Lily. Because if she had to put up with all that shit, she at least wanted a good story out of it.
"Well, that's a bit of a story," Iris said with a wry smile, "so it might be better to start it once everyone-"
"Story? What story?" Marya looked Iris up and down like she wasn't sure what she was seeing. "Weren't you cremated?"
Iris scratched at her neck. Honestly, she knew that already - it was what happened to any dead skip - but she really didn't like thinking about it. Lily insisted her new body was perfect like her honor depended on it, but hey, it was, y'know, all her blood and guts and whatnot. She'd spent a lot of effort keeping it all in a single-digit number of pieces even if she ultimately didn't care for it. It was a bit like a shitbox car she'd become attached to in that sense.
"Well, I got better," Iris mumbled.
"W-What? When?"
"Uh… About a week ago?" Iris blinked. "Maybe a day or two before they told you guys I was back."
"I heard you were dead some weeks ago, but that's it."
"Well, you must not have been paying very much attention to the staff announcements."
"Aha. No, I think I'm the only here who does."
Oh no. Did… Did they only tell the staff she was back? The room suddenly sounded three times larger. Iris scanned the room, three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, and noticed a lot of funny looks, but none from anybody who would actually want to talk to her. There was still time. Iris stood up, slowly, like she was backing away from a bear.
"Well, I'm sorry for not noticing earlier, but that's no reason to up and leave," Marya tut-tutted. "In my defense, I don't believe we spoke very much at all, and death was far less sticky where I grew up."
"No, it's - you're - you're fine, I gotta go." Iris began shuffling down the aisle, careful not to make any noise as though that mattered at all at this point.
Marya rested her head on her hand and watched Iris with a bemused expression. "I see. Didn't think you'd be having this conversation today, hm? You aren't going to be able to hide forever, you know."
Oho, watch me, Iris said with a defiant look. Even that barren room was preferable to withstanding the verbal and, horrifyingly, physical onslaught of people heaping their attention on you. She knew nothing of how to react other than that the apathetic and confused expression she was bound to make wasn't it.
Perhaps sensing the forthcoming excuses, Marya's expression hardened. "It wouldn't be right to leave the girls in the dark."
Iris groaned. She was right, of course, but children were especially awkward in these situations. Even as she stopped in her tracks, she found herself asking how big of a deal it could have been, after all, when she was their age-
"They were quite upset for some time," Marya added, pressing the advantage. "Stacey took it especially hard."
Fine, fine. She made her point. Any more weaseling wouldn't just be sad, but heartless. Iris could be lazy when she was the only one who would suffer for it. Even so, she mumbled out one last excuse.
"…This feels like my damn birthday."
"Well, then, it sounds like fun," Marya said, pointedly ignoring the fact that Iris did all the could to keep her date of birth a secret. "I'm not going to soft-launch your resurrection for you, if that's what you're asking."
Iris frowned. Marya had gotten a bit of a mouth on her since she got let back out, hadn't she? "That wasn't what I was asking," she said, only now considering how good of an idea that sounded like.
"Hm. Well, I'll admit this is a difficult situation for you, so I can help a little." Marya stood, brushing herself off. "I'll speak with the girls for a couple minutes. That should give you two some time to catch up," she finished, nodding towards the other side of the table before taking her leave.
Today's first challenger, right on cue. She was going to have to deal with everyone eventually, so Iris took a couple of seconds to feel sorry for herself and rank her options - Anne, Adams, Foxx, and Jackie, on a scale of most to least exhausting - and turned to face the person who'd just walked up to her.
Anne. She should have guessed. From how she was standing, it looked like she'd been frozen in place while looking for a spot to sit down. She wasn't even slack-jawed, just frozen, like she'd seen a… Well, okay, Iris could give her that one.
The silence quickly became uncomfortable. Iris could handle a staredown, but it wasn't Anne's style. Well, Iris could hardly blame her for being off her game, all things considered. It was up to her to get the ball rolling.
"Whatever it is, Anne, I'm really not in the mood-"
"This seriously isn't funny." Anne's voice was cold. Her distant expression had stiffened in hostility.
Iris sighed "What else is new-"
Anne interrupted her by grabbing her by the wrist, hard, like she was tearing down a poster. In response, before she knew what she was doing, Iris ripped her hand away and slapped her hard enough to leave her palm burning. Any patience Iris had been willing to extend evaporated instantly.
Anne didn't flinch, or stagger backwards. She looked like she hadn't even registered her grip being broken, much less the red mark growing on the side of her face. It was only once she reached up to touch her cheek, then checked her hand as though she were expecting blood, that she blinked.
"Ah," she whimpered.
Iris felt the rush of heat leave her head, and became aware that her arm was still outstretched. She awkwardly stuck her hand into her pocket. "Shit, um, I didn't mean to, uh…"
"Aha!" Anne's sudden laugh was more jarring to Iris than anything that just happened. It sounded the same as it ever did, and her face was smiling again as soon . "Damn, I didn't think a - a ghost would hit so… I mean, be so…" The corner of her mouth twitched.
Seconds passed. "…Anne?"
"I, uh… Just a minute." Anne slid away in the direction of the restrooms, disappearing into the crowd. An impressive feat, considering most everyone in a ten-meter radius was staring at the two of them.
Iris looked at nothing in particular and ignored both the onlookers and her own burning ears. "…The hell was that?" She whispered. She was used to Anne's typical unpredictability, but that was something else. Did something happen with her? Iris nervously rubbed the wrist she'd been grabbed by with her other hand. She could still feel Anne's… hand oil, or something, on her wrist, and thought about sneaking over to wash it off in the bathroom once Anne had left it. Once everyone had stopped looking at her. She sat back down and hunched over as much as she could, hoping that everyone would just pass her by for the rest of the day.
I'm glad to see you're still on such good terms with everyone.
"Ugh…" Iris moaned through gritted teeth. "You having fun over there? Happy to just watch?"
You say this like it's my fault you went and got yourself ventilated.
Iris bit her lip. That was awfully harsh.
I'd like to ask you to save your misplaced ire for when I do make my grand debut and steal that spotlight of yours.
She had plenty of ire to send Lily's way, for the record, but out of simple jealously that she was still snug in bed. Just what had Anne all out of sorts? Iris alone couldn't have possibly gotten her that off her game. She probably should have asked Marya earlier, but knowing Anne, she was probably the only real nuisance that Iris would have to deal with-
"Iiiiiiiiriiiiiiis!" Came a wailing voice from the other side of the room. Iris jumped up from her chair and put up her fists in a defensive stance.
Somewhere, Lily groaned.
Bursting past Marya's futile attempt at containment, Leora barrelled across the cafeteria floor, bumping into anything and anyone in her way. With how much she was blubbering, it was a wonder she could see much of anything, or stay upright without slipping on her own tears.
When she reached Iris, the older skip was still standing like she was expecting a brawl, but that didn't give Leora a moment's pause as she lunged forwards and wrapped her arms around Iris and bawled into her shoulder. Iris secretly thought that the mental fortitude she was showing in not forcefully rebuking her was commendable, but she was only touching her clothes, anyways. And she was thirteen.
"I thought you were dead! I missed you!" Leora was more yelling than sobbing. It was remarkable how well her voice traveled with her mouth buried so firmly in Iris' side.
Oh, lord. Iris thought people were staring at her before, but now she felt like an ant under a magnifying glass. But as much as she wanted to squirm, it was glaringly obvious that Leora was upset because of her, and was happy for her too, and the thought of that made her face burn in the way she hated the most because she knew everyone could see it. The least Iris could do was hug her back… W-Well, no, uh, actually, she didn't really know if she should go over or under the shoulders, or crouch down, or where to put her arms at all, really, so she settled for a pat on the head. It felt like she was tamping down a pile of hay, but she couldn't do nothing.
Marya, who at least had the good graces to appear apologetic, mouthed 'Sorry' to Iris from the cafeteria's entrance. Standing next to her was Stacey, who looked like she wanted to be there even less than Iris. Marya appeared to be trying to speak to her to mixed results. After some time, Marya took Stacey by the hand and began taking her towards Iris and Leora.
The babbling coming from Iris' shoulder pulled her' attention back to the crying girl. After several seconds of intense internal deliberation, the best she could come up with to comfort her was "There… there… I'm, aha, happy that you're so… energetic? I mean, doing well." Iris regretted each word as she said them.
Leora looked up at Iris, and however red Iris' face was, hers was in ever worse shape. Iris felt a pang of guilt she couldn't quite place. "Y-Yeah, I'm… hic." Leora peeled herself away from Iris and wiped her tears away so she could try to look gallant. "I'm still the same old me!" Her smile was unconvincing, but she did her best. "But it was hard… W-When you…"
She deflated. Not even her trademark gusto could carry her very far today. "…It was so sudden."
The pang of guilt turned into more of a stabbing sensation. "It was sudden for me too. This is all…" Iris rubbed her temples and tried to focus on the conversation at hand. "…Very sudden."
Silence stretched out between them, made even more unbearable by the fact that much of the room had gotten noticeably more quiet. God, Iris couldn't even hear the cook staff. She bit the inside of her mouth and looked at the foot of the next table over, tilting her head down as though it would make people forget she existed, but even that most tried and true strategy of hers wasn't helping today.
Sensing an opening, Marya stepped forward, gently guiding Stacey behind her. Iris felt like she was watching someone add extra miles to a marathon as she was running it.
Now that Iris had a closer look, the teenager looked downright haggard. Sunken, reddish eyes, and skin that was either pallid or red. A familiar look for Iris, one she'd become well-acquainted with a decade ago. Her stomach turned. One of her hands clutched at it and wound up balling up her shirt in her fist.
It took quite a bit of effort from Stacey, but she mustered up the courage to take a step towards Iris. Just one, just within arm's reach, close enough to reach out for the hand Iris had clutching herself. She jerked away without thinking, and Stacey gasped and did the same. So Iris dug deep, bit down on the inside of her mouth so hard she expected to taste iron, and reached back out to Stacey. It took a few seconds, but she mustered the courage to take Iris' hand as she had intended to do before, then brought her other hand up to close around it.
"I'm happy we're-" Stacey's voice broke. It was so quiet that Iris could barely make it out, and she looked down at her hands without once looking up. "…Thanks for coming back."
Iris' eyes stung. Badly. Her vision became blurry. Shit. She hasn't done that since… Shit. She couldn't blink or the tears would fall and everyone would see. Her stomach churned and her head burned, and she forced herself not to breathe until Stacey let go of her hand. So long as she stood there like a statue, nobody would notice.
After far too long, Stacey let go of Iris' hand and shuffled back behind Marya. It was only then that Iris realized she needed to say something in response, so, staring at the foot of the next table over, she said, as loudly as she could while keeping her voice stable, "I'm glad to be back too."
"Well, I'm glad that everyone's doing well. I'm sure Leora - and you too, Stacey - have a lot to catch you up on, hm?" Marya spoke as she helped Stacey over to her seat at the table next to Iris.
Iris reminded herself that Marya was being kind and helpful, not patronizing or condescending. "Aha, well, I am pretty hungry after… a month. So what have they been doing for breakfast?"
"You're not leaving again, are you?" Leora refused to be distracted.
Another difficult question. Iris wanted to say she was making up for a month's worth of headaches, but frankly she felt like Lily alone already paid that debt meeting Lily. "Well, yeah - but not like that. Not for that long."
"Are you leaving soon?" Stacey asked, facing the table but side-eyeing Iris.
…Damn. She was just going to have to ask Adams to pick her stuff up herself. She owed Iris some favors anyways. "No. Not right now. Uh, Marya?"
"Yes?" Marya was still looming - er, standing behind Iris and Stacey.
"You know where Adams is? I gotta ask her something.
"Adams? Haven't seen her in about a week," Marya shrugged.
"The hell? I-I mean, heck?" Iris glanced at Leora. Did Adams transfer back to 19? she always complained about it, though, so it seemed unlikely. "Where's Foxx?"
"Site-19, for the time. Wouldn't tell me why even after I got the task force privileges."
"Why would he- Wait, the what?" If Iris had gotten breakfast earlier, there'd be saliva and milk all over the table.
Marya offered her a sympathetic smile. "Mm, they really didn't tell you much, did they? I expect you'll have quite a few meetings today. I'll get you a bagel and some 2%."
Iris blinked. "But… But I drink skim." There were probably better things to ask, but Iris' brain felt fried.
"You'll appreciate the extra energy today, dear. And have some salmiakki!" Marya made an encouraging gesture as she walked towards the food line. "It wakes you right up!"
"I-I don't…" Iris didn't like licorice. Or 2%. But she had to concede that Marya was correct in that she normally got bagels for breakfast. Perhaps she was looking out for Iris in her own way, but she felt a little… emasculated? What was the girl version of emasculated? She felt like that.
Infantilized, degraded, or enfeebled, to start, but nothing quite fits. Hm. Deflowered? No, actually, that's… something else.
It took all of Iris' strength to not start crying again.
Oh, fine. Never ask me for help again, then.
She had not asked in the first place.
Fie.
Ugh. Okay, okay. One thing at a time. Meeting she could handle, she told herself. She was already over the hump. She just needed something to wake up, she thought, and looked at the bowl of what looked to be licorice, coated in fine sugar. Maybe just a taste.
No sooner than Iris had made a move for the candies than Stacey met her gaze for the first time that morning. She only shook her head.