Chapter Text
Iris liked to think of herself as independent and innovative, a real go-getter, if you will, who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind and who definitely wasn’t afraid to speak in general, but, as she stared at the blank Word document on her laptop, feeling as if it was staring at her instead, intimidatingly so, she found herself kind of speechless.
When in doubt, Google, she told herself, pulling up her browser and typing in ‘how to write a resume.’ She would have asked her dad but he was taking a nap and God knew he needed one. Besides, she could do this by herself; she was a big girl and this was a learning experience.
She spent the next hour reaching into the far corners of her mind for little accomplishments and skills that she could include, and the half hour after that trying to make the document look pretty. She admitted though that somewhere in between she had got sidetracked by a Vine Barry sent her of a clumsy lion cub, which she spent a good few minutes watching on loop. Nevertheless, all that mattered was that she was done now. She printed her CV, popped it in an envelope, and filed it away for the next time she made plans to grab coffee at Jitters, giving herself a mental pat on the back for being productive.
Meanwhile, however, the same could not be said for Barry.
Cisco had invited him over for a two-person study party, but that pretence fell through when he got too caught up marathoning The Big Bang Theory. Barry could only glance forlornly at his pile of neglected notebooks on the coffee table, currently being used as a coaster for their Slurpees, and wonder how late he’d have to stay up tonight to get everything done.
After popping in the next season’s DVD, Cisco fell back on the couch and announced with grave importance, “I’ve decided.”
“Decided what?”
“I’m gonna ask Melinda Tores to the prom.”
Barry’s back jumped off the sofa cushion. “Dude, seriously? Good for you, man!” he said, slapping Cisco’s arm with a smile.
“But maybe I shouldn’t.”
“No, you have to. You’ve decided!”
“What if she says no?”
“Then we’ll go stag and show her what she’s missing.”
“No way you’re going stag, man; you’ve gotta ask Iris.”
There was nothing down his throat but Barry choked anyway. “I can’t,” he coughed.
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
Cisco sighed. He did, and he would have taken the opportunity to give his friend the don’t-be-afraid-of-rejection speech but, who was he kidding, he was in the exact same boat with Melinda. “Okay, it’s a deal,” he said, shifting forward on the couch, and Barry had to admire the resolve burning in his eyes, “we have to ask them to junior prom.”
“How is this a deal? You’re just telling me what to do.”
“If we succeed,” Cisco went on, as if he hadn’t heard Barry at all, “we get to spend one magical night with our dream girls. If not, we’re going to lead sad, miserable lives, fail senior year, and end up homeless and alone.”
“I think you’re over-exaggerating but, fine, I’ll ask Iris to be my date if you ask Melinda.” Maybe he would gain some courage from watching Cisco go first.
“Deal.”
They shook on it.
*
Barry walked home in the late October breeze, thinking about Iris and prom and how fast his heart was beating even though it was eight months away and that only a few hours ago prom had been the furthest thing from his mind. Iris and Joe were in the kitchen when he walked in. They both turned around at the sound of the door closing.
“Thank god you’re here,” Iris said, ushering him over, “the oven’s not working.”
Barry gulped and tried not to look into her imploring eyes. He was a goner if he had to ask her to prom with her looking like that.
He fixed the oven, because Joe was kind of hopeless when it came to these sorts of things, and then went upstairs to change. There was a watermark on his chemistry notebook from the Slurpee he’d left on top of it, which only grew more prominent when he turned on the lamp on his desk. It was Iris’ turn to cook and after taking a shower he could have gotten a head start on his homework but he found his feet leading him back downstairs and his voice asking if she needed any help.
“That’d be great,” she said with a grin, and he wasn’t even mad that he probably wouldn’t get much sleep tonight.