I Am Iris

Chapter Eight: Robot Boy's Secret

"I think I may have lit my science teacher on fire," I told Robot Boy sheepishly. "Oh, who am I kidding?! It was magnificently, amazingly wonderful!"

Robot Boy just gaped.

"You didn't hear? I would have assumed it was hot gossip."

Robot Boy frowned. "No one really talks to me," he whispered.

"Really? Same here!" I squealed.

Robot Boy raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't seem to bother you much."

"And why would it? I don't need anyone to make me happy," I scoffed. "I'd be perfectly fine if everyone in the world just ignored me."

Robot Boy nodded, slowly. "Oh."

I couldn't help but think that something I said was wrong. "What? Should I care?" I wondered aloud.

"No. It's cool that you don't care about what everyone thinks of you and that you don't judge others and stuff," Robot Boy told me with admiration. "I wish I was the same way," he breathed.

"What? Why? What does everyone think of you?" I demanded in amazement. People weren't mean to him, were they?

"You've never heard what they say? The kids at school don't exactly keep their thoughts to themselves." Robot Boy was looking right into my eyes, frowning.

"You never told me this," I croaked.

"Never mind, it's nothing. It honestly isn't," he assured me.

I sighed in relief. Don't worry, Iris. If he said it was nothing, then it was. Now I had more important things to focus on... Like how annoyingly cold it was.

The two of us had to walk back to the apartment building to get to Robot Boy's car because apparently driving to school wastes gas money. The weather had finally begun to get worse, signaling an approaching winter. Oh, how I hate winter. The air was cold and sharp and bit at my skin uncomfortably. I wrapped my arms around my chest, which was covered in a sparkling red sweater.

Robot Boy followed slightly behind, with his arms at his side and his dark hair rustled slightly by the wind. He seemed completely immune to the cold. He had to be faking.

"Aren't you cold? I'm not. It's, like, super warm!" I shouted with fake enthusiasm.

Robot Boy rolled his eyes.

"Why aren't you freezing your fudging buttocks off?!"

"Oh, Iris," Robot Boy sighed.

Then I realized we were standing outside a smelly van with pealing red paint. There were a fair amount of dents, which I guess makes sense. I wonder how many buildings he’s hit with it.

"What time are you supposed to be at work by?" Robot Boy asked as he hopped into the driver's seat.

"Before I'm late," I quoted, wondering when that was. Not that I cared. Or Robot Boy. Or Bob.

A few minutes later we were at our Utopia. I'm glad Robot Boy was able to drive me because I never would have been able to find it on my own. I just stumbled upon it on accident yesterday. I was one lucky duckling.

"Where are you going to park?" I questioned as I realized there was no parking lot. Just a tight, thin road sitting beside the row of small buildings.

Robot Boy pulled up in front of a newly painted red fire hydrant, and, in doing so, blocked the majority of the already narrow street.

"I suppose this could work," Robot Boy said as he pushed open his squeaking door with all of his strength.

I skipped into the tacky diner with Robot Boy on my tail.