Flexible Thinking for a Modern Life: Chapter 16
Added 2020-06-17 18:17:21 +0000 UTCSummary: A commission series for Alfalfa. Iris Fleurs, the stretchy daughter of a slime mother and a human father, tries to live her best life and feel comfortable in her own skin. Teenage rebellion ensues.
CHAPTER 16
The commute to school was the same. What was different was the general mood in the air all along the way.
For one, it was much quieter. Usually the trio of Iris, Miguel, and Sarah would get the chance to gossip all the way to school, catch up on their home life. But the news of Iris' home life deteriorating so dramatically soured the mood...
...Not to mention, Iris' attention was rather split by the gazing views of the onlookers, all along the sidewalk, along the pathways, through the school hallways. It seemed as if, just overnight, she had transformed into what could be conservatively described as a total hottie. And she made sure to put herself out there, drinking in all the attention. A coquettish wink to a pair of senior football players, before sharply turning the other way to wave at the engineering department.
The poor geeks stared blankly. One of the kids, their hands clutching a makeshift controller, paused to look, unaware that a miniature, foot-tall box on wheels collided with the far wall.
"Hehe! Everyone's going for the brand new me!" Iris cooed, grinning to herself as she turned to the other two. Miguel and Sarah only gave each other an uncertain glance, content to let Iris have all the fun. Actually, they had staggered their pace as such so Iris could take the lead. It was just as well, then, that the cajoling expressions of the hallway would turn away with the somewhat inoffensive duo.
Eventually, the three of them would reach their lockers; Iris relaxed, turning her back to the rest of the hallway as she rummaged through her things.
"Hoo! All that attention gets exhausting after a while..." Iris mused, reaching up for her textbooks.
"You don't sound tired." Sarah commented, hoisting up her backpack as she did.
"Ahh, I can make time for adoring fans." Iris grinned to herself. "With a body like this, I have to share the love!"
Sarah glanced over to Miguel once more. Miguel leaned over tentatively to check up on Iris.
"W-well, um... we're glad you got more confidence, yeah?" Miguel chuckled, tilting his head to the side.
"Yeah! I wonder if I could make it as a cheerleader..." Iris mused, admiring herself in the mirror. She eyeballed a stray strand of hair, and moved her hand to brush it aside.
"Cheerleader? Like, now?" Miguel's mouth flattened. "Weren't tryouts finished, like, a month ago?"
"Ehhh, I reckon if I pulled some strings, somebody would make an exception for me." Iris continued to preen herself. "Maaaybe somebody would drop out for my sake."
"I dunno how well it'd go over." Sarah state matter-of-factly.
"Eh? C'mon, I'd be a great cheerleader! I can pull off all the moves without breaking a sweat!"
As if to demonstrate, Iris backed up a few steps from her locker and, without any hesitation, raised her left leg straight up in a kicking motion, holding it above her head much like a ballet dancer would. Of course, the kicking motion barely avoided grazing Sarah's nose—to her credit, she was large unphased by the sudden motion.
"Oooh!"
Iris' flexible motion invited a chorus of awe from throughout the hallway. This was not lost on Iris, her cheeks flush with a swelling sense of pride.
"You know how they break in cheerleaders, right?" Sarah's eyebrow perked up.
"...Uhh..." Iris wondered thoughtfully, still holding her raised leg. Her free hand rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "...With an elaborate series of physically demeaning obstacle courses? Haze the newbies, or whatever-"
"No." Sarah cut her off. "You gotta work your way up the pyramid. Pretty literally."
"...Pyramid...?" Iris blinked, lowering her leg slowly. "...Ohhh, yeah, you mean the human pyramid thing they do. Right."
"Exactly. And they'll probably put you at the ground level." Sarah smirked slightly. "You think you can carry the whole squad on your shoulders?"
"H-hey, I'm pretty strong!" Iris declared, thumping her chest as if to demonstrate. Unfortunately for Iris, the motion didn't have the encouraging effect she had intended. Actually, it mostly served to cause her shoulder to wobble slightly. Her fist even left a small indent in her shoulder...
"...Crap..." Iris grimaced.
"Don't wanna be mushy putty at the bottom of a pile of girls." Sarah shrugged, turning back to her locker. "Probably a bad look, really."
"Nn... whatever. I wasn't really interested in trying out anyway. Why do they have to go and do those big performances, anyway? It's just showing off, is what it is." Iris pouted, folding her arms.
"And dangerous," Miguel added. "They got guards around them to make sure nobody goes and tips them over."
"...How do you know this?" Sarah glanced over.
"U-uh... heard it from a friend." Miguel chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.
"Pfft. Likely story." Iris rolled her eyes, wearing a bemused smirk. She glanced down the hallway.
"Ugh, seriously, Perrerra? That's, like, one step above cow-tipping."
The good-natured ribbing between Iris, Sarah and Miguel was interrupted by the curt assertion of an unwelcome outside. Sherry had arrived with her usual posse in tow, her hand firmly rooted to her hip with the most condescending sneer she could muster. She leered over Miguel with a smug, holier-than-thou expression.
"I didn't take you for a yokel, Perrarra. You never cease to find new and creative ways to disappoint everyone around you~" Sherry sneered.
"...Sherry." Sarah stepped forward, placing herself between Miguel and Sherry. Miguel raised a hand to get a word in, but Sarah proved to be adequate in-between the two of them.
"Oh, this is new! You need your midget wannabe girlfriend to take the heat for you? How brave~" Sherry could hardly stifle her laughter. Mimicking her motions, her cronies joined in on the chorus of laughter herself.
Miguel anxiously lowered himself behind Sarah, hoping if he played dead that they would just move on without him.
"Seriously, Sherry? What is it this time? Is bothering us a full-time job for you?" Iris rolled her eyes as she turned towards her would-be antagonist. "...Ohhh, wait. You don't have a job, you just leech off your old man. I forgot."
"Ohoho! That's a lot of sass coming from you. Fleurs. Did you come up with that look all by yourself? Hell, if I didn't know any better, I figure you'd be trying to copy me!~" Sherry chortled. Iris met this with a grimace.
"Please. We're nothing alike. I don't get my fashion advice from prostitutes." Iris spat back. Normally, this would be the point that Iris would turn her back to Sherry, and let her sling all manner of disparaging remarks, but today... Iris was feeling spicy.
"P-prostitutes??" Sherry stammered. Her cronies silently exchanged looks to each other. "Where do you get off, when your father's knee deep in cow shit and fertilizer, and your mother's hardly a rung above that! Of course, they'd end up with a trashy girl like you!~"
Sherry's words were sharp and biting. Iris knew she had hit a nerve. Even with the recent spat Iris had with her family, she didn't much care for her family name getting dragged through the mud.
"Iris, let's just go." Sarah poked her shoulder. But Iris remained steadfast as she stared down Sherry.
"Sherry, I don't know what wriggled up your cunt and died, but you're gonna need to cut that shit out before someone gets hurt." Iris stated, an icy look in her eyes staring Sherry dead on.
"Ohhh? Did I hurt the dirt pusher's feeeeelings?? Maybe if you didn't cramp on my style and try to get up in my business, these things wouldn't happen!~" Sherry teased with a snide tone. "But by all means, run back to the dregs with your little midget and faggot friends- Urk!"
Sherry's venomous, homophobic, and altogether unpleasant tirade was momentarily interrupted as Iris grabbed her by the collar, lifting her up effortlessly. The cronies cried out, before parting in separate directions, as if to give Iris an even wider berth. Even Sarah and Miguel were surprised - and perhaps a little frightened - at what was coming to pass.
"...Pfah, what the hell, Iris? Put me down or you'll be sorry, you soggy pile of-"
Swoosh!
Sherry could feel a breeze as her entire body was jerked away from Iris, her arm lengthening at a rapid pace across the hallway. Sherry's back collided sharply with a locker on the opposite side of the hallway, her sneer turning into a pained grimace. That one was gonna bruise.
"Let's set the new ground rules, you heinous bitch," Iris declared, taking slow but deliberate steps forward, keeping Sherry pinned to the far wall as the distance between them closed. "You're gonna stop harassing me, and my friends. You're gonna get your lapdogs to leave us alone. And if I hear a peep of someone getting so much as a dirty look from you, well..."
Iris' grip tightened. Sherry's eyes shot wide open.
"...I'll leave that to your imagination." Iris's eyes narrowed slightly.
"That... that better not be a threat, you goddamn freak..." Sherry sputtered between tight breaths. Her high heels were kicking back and forth, as if to struggle free.
"Oh no, it's not a threat. It's a promise." Iris stated. She paused to get a better look at Sherry in the eyes. Even if she talked tough in her precarious situation, she could tell by the terrified glint in her eyes that the message had been received. Iris slowly began to let Sherry down to the ground, and Sherry even let out a gasp of relief...
"...See ya."
"Eh?? ...AUGH!"
But before Sherry could react, Iris simply threw her down the hallway like a ragdoll, content to let her slide across the polished flooring like a curling stone. A few onlooking students stepped aside, as if to avoid Sherry's trajectory altogether, as her jewelry, her high heels, and her purse flew off in separate directions.
Sherry screeched to a stop about ten feet away, her jaw agape, her arms and legs sprawled out and reaching for the floor, and her makeup well and truly ruined. She looked like a mess... and by the stunned looks of observers throughout the hallway, no one seemed to be in a rush to help her back on her feet.
A hushed silence filled the school corridor. Iris brushed her hair aside, and began to walk away. But not before glancing over to her two compadres.
"You guys coming?" Iris asked, before going on her way. It seemed that she expected them to follow.
Sarah and Miguel glanced over to Sherry one more time, watching in quiet awe as Sherry struggled to pull herself back to her feet. The throw from Iris ended up breaking one of her high heels...
"Holy shit." Sarah mused aloud, in a somewhat deadpan voice.
"That's right. What the hell, Iris...?"
Bing! Bong! Bing! Bong!
The student body wouldn't have time to muse on this. Morning classes were about to begin.
---
"...The Hildegarde region was central to the Aluminum Riots, which put pressure on mining communities in the footlands. This was primarily due to the proliferation of an important innovation that shaped our nation's economy..."
History class proceeded as usual. Iris was only half paying attention, her eyes staring outside the nearest window. She wanted to be out there, instead of in this stuffy classroom.
She was already making plans on what to do once the school day was over. She'd try on that costume Kamika magicked up for her, hit the streets, do some good, stay up late doing it, and then probably sneak home after the fact. The less she saw of her family, the better. Heck, if she was really solid as a good Samaritan, maybe someone would give her a free meal...
She momentarily flirted with the idea of spending the night crashing at Kamika's, but it didn't seem like a hot idea to her. It's not like Iris was the neatest or most well-organized person in the world, but the place was altogether a mess, and she had a feeling she'd get roped into some cleaning chores while she was down there. Chalking it up to payment for Kamika's mentorship...
Iris tilted her head pensively. It wasn't too bad at night this time of year, and she could probably sneak in just about anywhere. Crashing some empty, boarded up apartment would hardly be a trifle for her, so long as there was a crack to slip through...
"Iris? Iris!"
"...Ugh, yeah?"
The teacher, Mr. Roberts, had interrupted her daydreaming. With a sigh, she shifted her body towards the front of the class, folding her arms as she leaned back in her chair.
"I was wondering if you recall, from the readings, the importance of Walter Beckett?" Roberts asked, tapping a piece of chalk against the blackboard. Seems he was deep into his lecture already.
Iris clicked her tongue. Of course, with all the time she used up practicing her abilities, she hadn't been keeping up with her readings at all. Not like history was ever her most favorite subject. She was feeling a little cranky getting dragged back into the unpleasant present day...
"I dunno. Probably another stuffy old racist white guy?" Iris shrugged. "There's a million of those, and most of them are shitheads."
Iris' bluntness invited a chorus of murmurs and a few scattered chuckles around the classroom. Mr. Roberts, however, was not amused, the corner of his mustache twitching.
"...I don't suppose you can be a little more specific than that?" Roberts questioned with a beleaguered sigh.
"Something, something, going overseas, plundering and pillaging villages for gold." Iris rolled her eyes. "Or going to war to kill for oil. Or spices, or whatever."
"...Right then, I can tell you're behind on the material." Robert's eyebrow perked up. "Perhaps an extra credit assignment will help you catch up. Let's say five pages?"
"Ngah, c'mooon..." Iris whined futilely. Roberts tut-tutted, before turning back to the blackboard.
"Beckett was responsible for the invention of the Iron Bishop, a metal-working marvel that automated the process, creating more demand for the rare metals that-"
Krsht! The speakers above the door of the classroom crackled to life, interrupting the lecture.
"Attention students. Can Iris Fleurs report to the principal's office? Iris fleurs, to the principal's office. Thank you."
Iris' mouth flattened slightly, her eyes darting back and forth. This was irregular, but she had a pit in her stomach, a pang of suspicion as to what this was about. This was not lost on the rest of the students, as heads joined together to gossip quietly, filling the classroom with a cacophony of dull noise.
"Harumph... I could do without the constant interruptions." Mr. Roberts hissed, rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced towards Iris, gesturing for the door. "Better get going, young lady."
"Don't need to tell me twice..." Iris muttered under her breath, hoisting her bag upon her shoulder as she hurried down the aisle and out the door...
---
"Detention!? You can't be serious, Principal Hawkins!"
Iris sputtered, rising from her seat in a show of indignant outrage. Sitting across from her was a smartly dressed older woman, perhaps in her late 40s. She had a tough, stern feel about her, her grey business suit pairing well with her icy blue eyes. The responsibility of her thankless station had resulted in creasing wrinkles across her cheeks and around her eyes.
"I'm quite serious, Ms. Fleurs," Hawkins droned, pushing up the bridge of her glasses. "Our school has a strict policy against student violence, and we can hardly overlook such matters."
"But you never even heard my side of the story!" Iris blurted out. "You know how much of a bitch Sherry has been to my group all year!? The things she says??"
"If you feel so strongly about her attitude and conduct, you ought to have spoken to a teacher sooner. Or any one of us in the office, Goddess knows Vice Principal Brady needs something to do..." Hawkins sighed.
"What matters is that she's goading for a response! Don't you guys go on and on about anti-bullying policies? Or is all that just bullshit and hot-air!?" Iris pressed further and further.
"Watch your language." Hawkins held a finger out, pointing directly at Iris. She could only click her tongue in response, her eyes drifting to the side.
"Our anti-bullying policies have nothing to do with the fact that you physically assaulted a student." Hawkin's coldly cut in. "You have to understand the consequences of your actions, Ms. Fleurs. You're lucky you're not getting suspended for this snafu."
"...Lucky my ass..." Iris leaned back into her chair, folding her arms with an annoyed pout.
"Language." Hawkins lectured her with a single, outstretched finger. Iris simply rolled her eyes in response, opting to exercise her right to remain silent for the remainder of this meeting slash disciplinary hearing.
Hawkins wasted no time scrawling out a detention slip for poor Iris, and Iris wasted no time snatching it from her hands, storming out of the office. Today had started out so well too. Iris was absolutely steaming mad; this school was little more than a collection of hypocrites.
If someone stands up for themselves, the administration has to flex their muscle and smack them back down. She figured the odds would be stacked against her; Sherry always got a free pass on whatever heinous shit she was up to, and the higher ups were always willing to turn a blind eye if it meant they got to sit back and twiddle their thumbs. Of course, Sherry wasn't called to the office when Iris was; she was probably getting off scot-free, again.
The more Iris thought about it, the more she wound herself up. She hated being talked down to like a damn child. The way Hawkins corrected her language was just like her mother. She hated that tone with a firey passion. She could barely focus, and even flirted with the idea of skipping the rest of her classes just to make a point...
...But she didn't much feel like getting in more trouble than she already was. Clearly, the school was keeping an eye on her. Nothing about this was fair, but... Iris was getting used to that by now.
