The Rush (The Siren Series)

by Higginson, Rachel

  “Yes, curry fries!” Phoenix whispered excitedly while pumping his fist like a goofball.

  “You’re such a dork,” I laughed, feeling surprisingly light after the concert tonight, even if I was going to have to get to the bottom of Ryder’s solo song disaster. Inconspicuously of course. I so did not want Kenna finding out her boyfriend wrote a song about a girl he apparently didn’t even like.

  “Ives, you promised. You said you would be a groupie and do groupie things. Uh… some groupie things,” Phoenix reminded me, circling his abnormally long finger in my face. “You’re a Sugar Skulls fan for life now; you’re obligated to hang out with us after shows.”

  “Ugh, you’re right,” I pretended to be annoyed. “I do love curry fries though so maybe it’s worth my eternal devotion.”

  “Oh me too,” Sloane groaned.

  I shot her a look completely surprised that she actually ate fries. I thought I was the only one that cheated on my diet. Maybe I wasn’t the only freak after all.

  Maybe our mothers would send us all away.

  At least we’d have each other.

  We walked over to join the rest of the band while they gathered the last pieces of their equipment and headed for the exit. My cell phone vibrated in my pocket signaling a new text message and since Exie and Sloane were here with me I knew there was only one other person that would be trying to get ahold of me so late.

  And it was not Chase.

  I groaned before pulling out my phone to check the message.

  Where are you? Nix is here. Home. Now.

  My mother had this unique way of texting that reminded me of old school telegrams. In my head, after each phrase ending with a period I would mentally say “stop.” Where are you-stop. Nix is here-stop. The war is over-stop. And so forth and so on.

  “I’ve got to go,” I announced to no one in particular, but everyone turned around.

  “What? Why?” Exie asked a bit desperately which made me think she actually had a fun time tonight.

  “I got a text from my mom. She wants me home,” I explained. My friends would understand. If my mom was calling me home it was so not to spend time with her.

  “Bummer,” Sloane agreed. “Mom was out tonight and my curfew was forgotten.

  “Hey you guys can still go. Why not? Just drop me off first and then you can meet up with everyone.” I gave my friends my brightest smile and hoped they wouldn’t give up on this night of normalcy just because of me. Plus, they would be able to have a better time if I wasn’t there.

  “Ok, we could do that. If you’re cool with it,” Sloane asked Exie, not wanting to drag her to something she didn’t want to go to, but I could easily tell they were both kind of dying to go.

  It wasn’t often that we had the chance to hang out like other normal kids. We were either attending social functions in our circle, or on dates. And we hated both activities.

  “I could hang,” Exie replied, hoping to maintain her careless attitude.

  “And I could take you home,” Ryder offered from a little ways away. “I actually have a curfew, unlike everyone else, so I have to head home now anyway.”

  He looked at Kenna and shrugged his shoulder casually, like it was no big deal. She narrowed her eyes just the tiniest bit but returned his slightly beseeching look with a casual double shoulder shrug. I didn’t shrug at all because it was a big freaking deal!

  “Uh, it’s Ok, they don’t mind,” I scrambled to get out of this.

  “Yeah, but it’s way out of their way. This way they don’t have to cross Dodge and then backtrack,” Ryder argued.

  I blushed beat red. Ugh. Why was he making so much out of this? “Really, they don’t care. Do you girls mind?” I pressed frantically, but when they refused to meet my eye and offer me immediate reassurance I stopped thinking of them as friends and started referring to them as traitors.

  Traitors of the worst kind.

  “See? It’s no big deal, Red. It’s just a ride,” Ryder said more forcefully. I knew I lost this battle, that I would have to agree, but his commanding tone proved he was just bossing me around again and after that little stunt with the song I really wanted nothing to do with him.

  “Fine,” I gave in to get the attention off me and for no other reason. “Thank you.”

  “Alright, now that that’s settled,” Hayden broke in with his usual arrogance. “We have to go now or they will be closed and I won’t get my falafel, damn it.”

  That broke the silent spell that had fallen over our group while Ryder and I argued awkwardly. Everyone turned to leave, falling back into their loud conversations. I let everyone pass by me while I weighed my options and reviewed the bus schedule in my head.

  Once outside in the chilly late October air I searched the street for any sign of public transportation. Unfortunately this part of town had fallen eerily quiet. Tucked to the north of the busiest part of downtown, and filled with shops that all closed earlier, even pedestrian traffic didn’t exist. No bus in sight, not even a cab to overcharge me for the ten minute drive.

  “Bye, Ivy, I’ll call you later?” Sloane waved while walking toward her vintage BMW.

  “Better let me call you,” I sighed.

  “Oh right. Nix,” she bit her lip thoughtfully while her expression pulled down into sympathy.

  “I’ll be fine,” I forced a smile.

  “I know,” she said quickly.

  We both knew these were lies. She very well knew I would not be fine.

  “Bye, Ex,” I shouted after her. She waved me off, still distracted with conversation and Phoenix.

  “So, are you ready for this? Because I don’t think you are. I don’t think you are ready for the awesomeness that is the….. Bronco!” Ryder called enthusiastically from behind me. I heard his hands hit against hollow metal in a slow drum roll that echoed in the empty night air.

  Swallowing against a sudden onslaught of nerves, I turned around and came face to face with the ugliest POS ever created. Or maybe it couldn’t even be considered a creation. Maybe it was something more like leftover volcanic ash, or demon vomit…. granted, a lot of rusted blue and gray demon vomit, but demon vomit nonetheless. This was not happening.

  “You’re joking, right?” He had to be. There was no way this thing could start, let alone safely drive me home. Pathetic didn’t even come close to describing this sorry excuse for a vehicle. Rundown didn’t even fit in the same synonym family. No, this car, SUV… uh, whatever you were supposed to call it was the reason all those global warming activists attacked motor vehicles. The Bronco as he called it, was a dilapidated piece of machinery born from maybe the eighties? What pieces of the car weren’t covered in rust were painted in a shabby gray or pale blue, one of the headlights dangled precariously from its empty socket, both side mirrors hung at unnatural angles and the hood was crumpled and squished like an accordion. I felt my mouth sag open and my eyes widen in shock.

  “You’re in love aren’t you?” Ryder beamed at me, waggling his eyebrows while brushing a gentle, loving hand across the hood. “She’s my baby.”

  “She is not a baby. She’s like your grandma…. on hospice care,” I commented dryly. “Pull the plug, Ryder. It’s not humane to keep up the life-support at this point.”

  “Don’t be rude. She’s safe, I promise. She’s just a little rough on the eyes.”

  “She’s deadly on the eyes. I feel like I’m going to turn into a pillar of salt any moment now,” I laughed a little. This was kind of fun. I had never ridden in a junker before. I didn’t even know anybody who owned a junker before this moment.

  “You’re a comedian tonight,” Ryder drawled, clearly unimpressed with my sense of humor. “Besides, it’s what’s inside that counts.”

  He let his hand trail up the hood as if he was actually apologizing for my cruel words and opened the passenger side door for me. The gesture tore my mind away from the sorry excuse for transportation and to how he leaned against the door, waiting for me to climb in. He was
actually being kind of sweet…. even though I just insulted his car. Part of me wanted to panic that he thought we were more than we were, even while part of me swooned at his thoughtful chivalry. But most of me instinctively knew this was just the kind of guy Ryder was. He dressed like a bad boy, even had an attitude and a terrifying car to go with it. Also, there were the arm tattoos. But he wasn’t one. He was good all the way through his spotless soul. Just another reason to keep him way, way out of my life.

  And definitely enough reason to convince him never to write a song about me again.

  “Thank you,” I murmured while I climbed into the surprisingly clean interior. The outside might have been made out of more rust than paint and appeared to be more skeleton than healthy body, but his upholstery wasn’t torn or ripped, there was a newer cd player where an older radio had clearly been ripped out and behind the front bench seat the rest of the interior had been stripped down to make room for transporting band instruments and equipment in a comfortable and efficient bed.

  I waited for Ryder to buckle up and pull out of his on-street parking spot before bombarding him with fury. Gentleman or not, he should never have written a song about me. “No more songs about me, Ryder. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Uh-“

  “I’m serious. How dare you! Kenna actually thought that song was about her. And I wasn’t going to be the one tell her differently. But if I were her, I would have found that really insulting since the song was mean. Did you know that? It was mean! Is that really what you think about me?” I demanded wildly.

  “Ivy, calm down,” he ordered in his superior-I’m-more-of-an-adult-than-you-are voice. Which of course was no way to get me calm down. “Yes, the song was about you, but it wasn’t…. All it was…. Ok, I was just inspired by your tattoo. That’s all. There’s no hidden message from me to you, if that’s what you’re getting at. I just thought your tattoo was kind of cool and it gave me this great idea. I sat down with my guitar and the hook just came to me, Ok? I thought you would be…. flattered.” He stuttered through his apology, keeping his eyes locked on the empty one way streets of downtown. I should have taken this opportunity to cut all ties with him. Not that I would punish him for the song much longer anyway, although I was taking a serious hit to my self-esteem, but because clearly he was too attached to me. And I didn’t need that.

  “It’s just, you scared me,” I whispered. The words felt stupid in my mouth even as they fell into the air between us. I couldn’t explain my fears for our friendship and I sure as hell couldn’t explain my feelings. I just hoped he would let it drop.

  “Scared you?” Ryder glanced over at me, his charcoal eyes darkened to black in this light and his eyebrows pulled together in concern. I wanted to be honest with him. I wanted to tell him the truth.

  See? Dangerous.

  “I like you,” I admitted out loud and then realized what that sounded like. “Shoot. I mean, I like you as a friend. You’re a…. friend. And I don’t have many of those. I just don’t want to jeopardize what we have here.”

  “Oh you mean the constant bickering and fighting? Me either. I love that,” Ryder half laughed, half winced.

  “Yes,” I smiled at him. “I don’t get to do this with anybody else. Nobody else…. fights with me.”

  They control me. Or they use me. But I wasn’t about to say that either.

  “And me writing a song about you is going to change that? You know it wasn’t like a love song or anything, right?” Ryder asked, his gravelly voice deep with concern.

  “Please, I know that. You practically called me an evil bitch on stage to a room full of people. I am perfectly aware of how lacking in love that song was,” I rolled my eyes even though he was watching the road.

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Before I could stop myself I opened my mouth and spewed…. truth. “I just want to make sure we stay friends. If you haven’t guessed, I have kind of an… f-ed up home life. And…. if we were anything more, anything like… together, I would have to give this up. Not that we would be or anything. I mean, not that you’re interested. But as long as we remain just friends, it doesn’t really matter. Friends is fine. But never anything more.”

  “Ivy, I only like you as a friend,” he promised with heavy tones of sadness.

  “This isn’t reverse psychology, Ryder,” I snapped, angry that he thought this was my plea for attention. “I’m serious. I can be friends with you but nothing more. You might not like me now or even ever, but I just want you to know if there is ever anything between us, I mean, even the smallest spark I am walking away from you immediately. There can’t be anything, ever, or I will never see you again.”

  “Ok, yeesh. I got it! It’s not something we need to worry about right now anyway,” he said carefully. He glanced over at me again, but I was too embarrassed to look at him to see what his expression was doing now. Finally, after several long minutes he asked quietly, “What about Chase?”

  I took even longer to answer, digging deep for courage. This would be a lie, but a necessary one. “Things aren’t really working out for Chase and me. He’s a really nice guy and all, but-“

  Ryder fell back against his seat like I knocked the wind out of him. His jaw turned to stone and his hands gripped at the steering wheel angrily. Finally when we pulled up to the full block long circular drive in front of my apartment building Ryder threw the Bronco into park and looked over at me.

  His narrowed eyes were calculating and made me shrink under their intensity. He was pissed. So much more than pissed. There was a muscle ticking in his jaw and his intensity radiated off him like heat.

  “You know I’m going to have to tell him,” he finally announced with deadly calm. “He’s my friend. And he likes you Ivy.”

  “You don’t understand,” I mumbled weakly. And he never would.

  “I guess I don’t,” he grunted. “Want to explain it to me?”

  “I can’t,” I practically whimpered.

  Never before had I felt this bad. Well, except for Sam, but that wasn’t until the night of the accident, until after our relationship screwed up his entire future. But this had to be worse. This was judgment, cold, hard and final. I didn’t even need to go through the whole “stay away from me” speech. Ryder would have no problems keeping his distance after this conversation.

  “Blackheart?” he mumbled into the awkward silence.

  “Blackheart,” I confirmed. He finally got it at least. Well, his song proved that he understood, but now he got it, it would settle into whatever left over good thoughts he had about me and ruin them.

  “I wanted to be wrong.” His words were soft and sad in his voice, but dug into my heart like a dagger.

  “But you weren’t,” I mumbled. Unwanted tears started to prick at the backs of my eyes and I willed myself not to show emotion in front of Ryder. He couldn’t get it. He wouldn’t get it, if I was honest with myself. Nobody could.

  A sharp rapping on the window caused us both to jump in our seats. Ryder’s window was being assaulted by angry pounding and I leaned forward so I could see around him, see why somebody was so desperate to get our attention.

  “Shit,” I groaned. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Not very ladylike, I know.

  Ryder rolled down his window to address the angry man standing outside. “Can I help you?”

  “Ivy?” Nix demanded, panicked and mad as hell. “What are you doing in this car? Are you Ok?”

  I bit back a thousand sarcastic remarks. Of course a car like this would startle Nix. He probably thought the driver was some homicidal maniac trying to kidnap me. Or he sensed the difference in Ryder from wherever the hell he was before now and had to come investigate what was up.

  Or maybe he just saw me with another guy and transformed into the possessive psychopath he really was.

  Had he been waiting for me? Or was this a coincidence?

  “Uh, Nix, this is my friend Ryder. He gave me a ride home tonight,” I explained in my
softest, most patient voice ever. I shot Ryder a calming smile and willed him to return it.

  “I hope this car is safe, young man,” Nix turned his blindingly handsome face on Ryder and his voice turned cold and authoritative. Nix was just crazy enough to believe Ryder would be his competition and if I didn’t separate them soon, Nix would also be holding a verbal pissing contest. Not really fair for an ancient douchebag to go up against an innocent-vaguely-naïve-high-school-kid…. But that was Nix. Nothing stood in the way of what was his.

  “Absolutely,” Ryder answered. “I would never intentionally hurt Ivy, Sir.”

  I bit back a groan and then had to sit on my hands to keep from slapping them over my eyes. I could not watch this. This was going to end badly.

  First the song and now this? I was not sure the night could get worse.

  “Well, since you’re her friend, why don’t you join us upstairs for a while? Ivy’s mother and I would love to get to know one of her school friends better. Especially one she trusts to drive her home.”

  Ryder sent me an encouraging smile, probably hoping he was doing me a favor. Holy, hell he probably thought Nix was dating my mom…. Probably some father-figure in my life.

  I was wrong. So wrong. This night could definitely end worse.

  And why was Ryder suddenly being nice to me? I so wished he would have just told me to piss off and then left me on the sidewalk.

  “Sure, I have a few minutes before curfew,” Ryder answered with a friendly-love-me smile, totally the polite gentleman.

  Oh, no! He was actually going to try to win Nix over.

  Cheese and rice, this was going to be a disaster.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The elevator ride to the apartment was silent and awkward. I felt Ryder trying to catch my eye while Nix stared straight ahead, his jaw tight with agitation. I simply watched my shoes, unable to bare Nix’s frustration or Ryder’s curiosity.

  “This way,” Nix instructed once the elevators opened.

  We followed dutifully behind. Ryder cleared his throat, still trying to get my attention.