8
Iris needed to be brave.
Keith had told her the truth about his past, bravely and simply and without trying to make himself look good. If anything, he’d gone out of his way to paint himself in the worst possible light, savaging himself for the kind of mistakes anybody in his weird situation might have made. He’d told her everything even though he’d clearly been afraid that it would make her walk away from him.
He’d just steeled himself and gone through with it, because he felt like she deserved to know.
She couldn’t believe she’d said that all this striving for perfection had to be easier for him than it was for her. They might have reacted to the Silver Council’s rules in very different ways, but they had both gone through hell.
The biggest difference between them wasn’t that she used to rebel and he used to follow the rules. It was that when the world had taught them a harsh lesson, Keith had opened himself up.
She had shut herself down.
Yes, they’d both changed. But she was starting to think that while his change had been a thoughtful decision made in good conscience, hers had just come out of panic and grief.
After all, did she really want to be the person she’d tried so hard to become after the accident?
Wouldn’t that perfect unicorn lady have been aghast at Keith kissing her hand? Horrified by him cursing? Wouldn’t she, like the Council, have said that the mistake he’d once made hadn’t been a mistake at all?
If she had really become the new, perfect Iris ... she wouldn’t be the person Keith had needed this morning.
She didn’t know if she could turn back into the person she’d been before the accident, and she didn’t know if she wanted to. Thinking about it still made her feel almost queasily guilty.
But even if she didn’t know who she was right now, she knew what she needed to do; she knew what was fair. He had told her his story, so she needed to tell him hers.
Once they’d put the breakfast dishes in the sink, Iris made her move.
“I don’t know what you planned on doing today, but if you didn’t have anything in mind—there’s a place I want to show you.”
“Then that sounds like a place I want to see.” He looked down at himself, as if taking in the travel-creased clothes he’d unearthed from his overnight bag. “Should I change?”
Never, Iris thought.
He looked endearingly rumpled and a far cry from the polished, braced-for-the-worst guy she had met in the Council chambers. She liked this version better, just like she had with pajama-clad Keith the night before. It felt like she was getting permission to see therealKeith, the one he normally would have tried to hide.
“You look great,” Iris assured him. “And this is going to be the furthest thing from formal, anyway. We’ll just have to wear something fancy tonight—Seraphina and Blake both like to dress to the nines.”
He nodded, looking solemn. The divot between his eyebrows was back.
“Are you nervous?” Iris said.
Keith shrugged. “A little.” He flashed a smile at her. “And by that I probably mean a lot.”
They’ll love you, Iris almost said, but then it occurred to her that she wasn’t actually sure about that at all.
They would love Keith-the-tribute, the painstakingly polished surface of a rigid, brittle shell. They would eatthatup with a spoon, just like the Council did. But would they like the real Keith, the one who got excited when a clownfish paid attention to him, who made jokes, who cared so much and so passionately about living up tohisstandards instead of just the Council’s? Probably not.
