I swear I could sense how mad he was on the other side of the Atlantic. The credit card. Definitely one for voice mail. I stood there for four minutes, waiting for the message notification. When my phone buzzed, dread came with it. I hit play.
“I got a call from Visa to verify a one thousand euro purchase at a recording studio in Dublin? You better explain fast, although I can’t imagine a viable excuse. This is coming out of your allowance.” There was an audible sigh-pause. “I know you’re mad I’m not coming to take over with Ryder, but if you pull any more of this Jaded Iris crap, I’ll cut off the card.”
The message ended, and I screamed, “You probably forgot that much money in your dinner jacket, you cheap jerk!”
My voice echoed around the lake, and in the quiet aftermath, someone cleared their throat. Shoshanna was doing yoga on a mat barely a stone’s throw away. I’d been seriously out of it not to notice her.
“So,” she said, balanced in warrior two. “Things aren’t going well for you either?”
I scowled. Did she have any idea how much her gorgeous, superior presence was trashing my feelings for Eamon? “Why are you doing yoga out in the open?” I snapped. “Aren’t you worried creepers might be watching you? Anyone could walk by.”
“Maybe I was hoping someone would walk by,” she said. In my silence, she added, “Not you, Iris. But if you’re going to stand there, you might as well join me.”
I dropped into downward dog beside her, wondering if Cate had put her up to this. Bonding exercises, Julian had called it. I followed her sun salutation; it was different than the one I did in gym, but similar enough that I didn’t seem like a total elephant doing karate.
“That was my dad,” I finally said when I couldn’t stand the silence. “Threatening me from a few thousand miles away. He’s a—”
“Cheap jerk? I know his kind.” There was something unflinching in Shoshanna that made me want to be like her. To talk the way she talked. She wasn’t worried about everyone liking her all the time, and it was sort of breathtaking. We moved into warrior two, and she squinted at me. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
“What?” I fell out of the move, twisting my knee.
“You’ve got no awareness in your hips. It’s obvious.”
“Why,” I busted out, “does everyone think it’s okay to pick on me?” I took back all internal compliments about Shoshanna Reyes. She was a say-anything freak. “So what if I’m a virgin? That’s not illegal, is it?”
She smiled triumphantly, like she had during our very first conversation. “Oh, it’s legal. And explains a lot.” She kept sun-saluting, and I kept up purely out of aggravation.
“I know you get kicks out of making people squirm, but no virgin shaming.”
“Hey, I mean no offense,” she said. “This is part of how I understand people. How I handle my roles. I figure out the character’s experience, sexuality range, where they are on the gender spectrum. You’ve been tricky, so I’ve been applying work tactics. Seriously, no offense.”
Now I felt like I had to apologize for going slightly nuclear. “My school friends give me crap about this back at home. I’m a little hot-wired on the subject.”
“What are school friends?”
While I was used to using that term, no one had ever repeated it back before. “They’re my friends, but we don’t hang outside of school. I have to watch Ryder.”
“That’s sad, Iris Thorne.”
“The longer I’m in Ireland, the more I realize this,” I muttered. “Don’t tell Eamon I’m… I mean, don’t tell anyone.”
“Oh, Eamon is a virgin too. Have you seen that boy dance? I tried to get him to wiggle his lower body last night. Cement.”
My face steamed in my forward fold. “You guys have fun last night?”
“I’m not hooking up with Eamon. Feel free to shove that card back in the deck.” Shoshanna switched to plank, her long, thick hair tied up in an unruly braid that made mine look manageable by comparison. Also, her arm muscles were stunning. “I have zero interest in him, and I’m rarely into pork swords.”
I was stuck on her statement of I’m not hooking up with Eamon. Did that mean I still had a shot? No way. Eamon was getting one-on-one time with Shoshanna. Even if she didn’t like him, he was bound to like her. I didn’t stand a chance.
Stop ranking women.
I fell out of my plank, and Shoshanna looked at me weird. “I think I just heard Cate Collin’s voice in my head.”
Shoshanna smirked. “She has presence, doesn’t she? Although don’t go all black and white on her little feminism pep talks. She’s put up with some serious gender bullshit, but that’s one experience, not every woman’s experience.”
“Okay…” I was in over my head. Again.
“Also, you’re panting weird,” she said. “It’s throwing off my rhythm.”
“Sorry.” I glanced at Shoshanna’s shoulder and noticed a bit of ink hitherto hidden by her clothes. “Is that… Do you have a tattoo of Rosie the Riveter?”
“No.”
“It is!”
“You are epically bad at noticing things outside of yourself.” Shoshanna twisted to show off her shoulder tattoo.
“Whoa.” I put my back knee down in runner’s lunge and leaned in for a closer look. “Is that Dr. Jillian Holtzmann from Ghostbusters?”
“Of course it is.”
“What do you mean ‘of course it is’? How many people on this planet have Jillian Holtzmann tattoos?” I was trying to tease her, to connect on some basic level even if it was silly. “Oh God, you’re a nerd after all! A sneaky, campy nerd.”
“No, Iris. I’m queer. And that’s a big fucking deal in this business. Do you know how many roles I’ve lost because the casting director has flat-out said, ‘We don’t
