The Rush (4 page)

             
“Ivy Pierce?” The guy sitting next to me asked all surprised and shocked.

             
“Yep,” I nodded, peeling open the wrapper of my granola bar. I realized then that if the entire table kept staring at me like that I wasn’t going to be able to eat any of my lunch. Damn it.

             
“I didn’t think you were coming back, like ever,” he so eloquently explained his disbelief.

             
“Well, I’m here,” I clarified shyly.

             
I was not shy. Actually the farthest thing from shy, but along with the feral attraction the boys at this table were watching me with was a mixture of astonishment and confusion. It was super distressing and I kind of just wanted to find a quiet place and die.

             
That wasn’t too much to ask for was it?

             
“So they wouldn’t let you transfer to another district?” A snotty girl from across the table asked innocently. I knew boys, but I knew mean girls better and this girl had an agenda. Her overly big brown eyes watched me with excited anticipation and I could almost feel her punch line hanging in the air.

             
I just shook my head.

             
“Oh, they didn’t want you either, then,” she sighed with mock sympathy. The girls around her tittered away their approval of her joke and I shrunk into Chase, using him as a shield against the open hostility.

             
Last year I would have snapped back with something that was both witty and cruel. I would have easily put her in her place by simultaneously hacking away at whatever façade of self-esteem she had and planted seeds of doubt that would plague her for years to come. I would have shut off every emotion and trickle of potential guilt and acted in the way I was raised to. I would have made my mother proud.

But since nowadays I could barely look at myself in a mirror, I had nothing for
Amber. I couldn’t even level her with one of my death glares. She was right after all; no other district would let me transfer into their school. Not even my mom’s own power of persuasion could get me in. I mean, that was
a lot
of fear and rejection.

             
“Geez, Amber,” Chase muttered disapprovingly at my persecutor.

             
“What? It’s the truth,” Amber narrowed her eyes on me. She was really pretty with her short rich brown bob with red highlights. Her face was pixie-like with a cute nose and full lips underneath her huge eyes. She was definitely pretty enough to get all the attention of the boys at this table. She shouldn’t have had to fight me for it anyway.

             
But she did.

             
We both knew it.

             
Only I was the only one who knew why.

             
“I’m sorry about my rude friend,” Chase sighed, shooting Amber a look. Her eyes narrowed infinitesimally more and I recognized the pain she was trying to cover up.

             
She
liked
him.

             
“It’s alright, she’s right.” I had to stop with the pity party or I would never be able to keep my stone-cold-bitch rep up. I went through the routine I always did, the one where I stripped away my real feelings and replaced everything about me with what was expected of me. I sat up straighter, and pulled my wavy red hair over my shoulder where I knew it would look the most attractive, I put on an amused smile and then laughed. “Guess you guys are stuck with me.”

             
That was met with a murmured chorus of “We don’t mind,” from the guys around me.

             
Amber did not like that and with a snort of disgust, got up from the lunch table followed by her posse of high school socialites.

             
“She’s kind of annoying, right?” a guy from across the table asked.

             
I shrugged in response, but his amused tone made me lift my eyes to meet his and when I did I almost audibly sighed. He was one of those adorable kind of high school boys with curly, way too long shiny brown hair and a once upon a time broken nose. He was scrawnier than most of the guys around me and endearingly disheveled.

             
On closer inspection, he was less scrawny and more…. gangly. Like really long and lanky, which was my favorite type of guy, but only because they always seemed so cartoonish and I was oddly fascinated by very tall people.

             
“When did you get back?” tall guy asked casually.

             
Chase shifted next to me. This was an uncomfortable road we were about to walk down, he probably didn’t want his friend pissing me off and ruining his chances with me. If only he knew he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

             
“Uh, yesterday,” I mumbled.

             
“Whoa, and you’re already in school?” tall guy blurted in disbelief. “I would think you should get at least the rest of the week off.”

             
I laughed at his nonchalance about the whole thing. Good for him. “I’m pretty sure this is just all part of my mom’s never-ending scheme to punish me until the day I die.”

             
“Ah, I have parents like that,” tall guy nodded knowingly.

             
“I doubt they’re as bad as mine,” I sighed.

             
“Really? My name is Phoenix,” he laughed and the rest of the guys around him laughed too.

             
“Phoenix?” I smiled. He was kind of contagious.

             
“Yep. Phoenix. They’re total hippies. My little sisters have it worse than me; their names are Sparrow and Wren. But the baby, as in the newborn baby my forty year old parents
conceived
and then
birthed
… at
home
…. In the
bathtub
…. they named him Buzzard.”

             
I gasped loudly. It couldn’t be helped. “No they did not!”

             
He just nodded, laughing at my reaction. “It’s true. My sisters and I have already decided we are only ever calling him Buzz, but still, can you imagine my hippy mom with her dreadlocks and marijuana perfume chasing after him in the grocery store wearing all of her hemp clothes yelling ‘Buzzard you get over here!’”

             
I giggled at his story- giggled. The sounds felt strange and jumpy in my chest, but still they flowed out, exercising my ribs in a way that had been atrophied for way too long.

             
“I can totally see your mom doing that too,” Chase laughed with me. His hand had slipped to my lower back as if protecting me from falling backward off the slim bench.

             
“You’re right,” I gasped for air, this time in a good way, “six months of banishment and public school hardly seem bad at all compared to a lifetime of Buzzard.”

             
“So you see my point,” Phoenix nodded.

             
“Where were you banished to?” the guy next to me asked.

             
“Uh….” I stuttered. I was prepared to not deny rumors, but I hadn’t exactly prepared myself to come up with my own explanation. “Rehab,” I choked out in a lie.

             
“Really?” He couldn’t stop himself from the shock and I couldn’t blame him.

             
“Yep,” I looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes.

             
I felt him shift toward me on the bench. Oh no, he was going to ask more questions.

             
And then I felt the cool gray eyes of mystery guy on me. I couldn’t explain how I felt his stare before I saw him approach the table, it wasn’t like we had a connection of any kind or I knew him at all. But then Kenna’s laughter floated through the air and drew my attention before I could stop myself.

             
They were joining us. His arms were wrapped around her waist and she was looking up at him, laughing with careless grace at something he had said. She rose up on her tip toes and pressed a sweet kiss to his jawline before taking her seat next to Phoenix. Mystery guy followed suit and since I could apparently not stop watching the two of them interact, his cold gray eyes found mine in a look of disgust? Or maybe pissed off disbelief?

             
Please let it be something neutral like just surprise.

             
Ugh. I shouldn’t care either way.

             
“Ryder, what is up?” Chase asked next to me, all happy smiles and friendliness.

             
“Same,” he shot back.

             
He was pissed. Damn it and it was because of me. Seconds ago Kenna had his face lit up like a freaking Christmas tree. One look at me and all happiness faded from the room.

             
What
is
up
with him?

             
“Who’s your friend, Chase?” Ryder nodded in my direction and I gulped back more of those irrational fears.

             
“Ryder this is Ivy. Ivy Pierce, Ryder Sutton and his lovely girlfriend Kenna Lee,” Chase offered politely. “With the exception of the lovely Kenna, no offense,” he nodded to Kenna and she just shook her head at him, “we are every important part of the soccer team. “Keeper,” he pointed to Phoenix. “Striker,” he pointed to himself. “Midfield,” he finished with Ryder.

             
“I know Kenna,” I said quickly before things got even more awkward.

             
“Didn’t you guys meet this morning?” Kenna asked, her pretty slanted eyes narrowing on me cautiously.

             
“Uh, not formally,” I practically whispered. Ryder hadn’t taken his cool gaze off me and I felt like I was shrinking under the weight of it. But there was no attraction there, no undressing me with his eyes or even less than admirable thoughts floating around in their gunmetal depths.

             
“I dumped my coffee on her this morning,” Ryder explained with a small sarcastic twist to his lips. “I unfortunately tried to tie-dye her shirt the color of coffee and French Vanilla creamer.”

             
I sat stunned, frozen by this sudden inside joke we shared. Luckily Kenna interrupted with an inside joke of her own, “Mrs. Tanner’s fave.”

             
Ryder broke his gaze with me immediately to stare into his loyal girlfriend’s eyes. They shared a secret laugh and the hollowness inside me spread from the hole in my heart to my fingertips.

             
“How’s your first day back?” Kenna asked politely. I knew she didn’t like me. She
couldn’t
like me. But she was a nice enough girl to pretend in front of other people.

             
“Same,” I sighed. I felt like I was folding into myself, becoming my own version of a black hole. Soon I would be completely sucked into the void of darkness that was my soul, pulling in everything and anything around me.

             
Guy next to me felt like this was a perfect opportunity to jump back into our earlier conversation. “So what was the stint in rehab for anyway?”

             
Classy.

             
All conversation stopped at our table and every eye slid cautiously to me. This was a lie. This was a lie. I wasn’t an addict, except to maybe hope. Yes, I was only addicted to hope for life after my eighteenth birthday.

             
“Everything,” I muttered. I didn’t feel up to the task of picking out one of the many reasons to go to rehab. I had lots of vices; I didn’t want to give any one of them up just to prove a fake addiction. “Seriously, you name it.”

             
The table was quiet for six entire seconds as the heavy information sank into all those around me.

             
“Sex,” Ryder said clearly in the wake of the awkward silence.

             
“What?” I sputtered.

             
“Sex, were you addicted to sex?” he clarified. He settled his gray eyes on me again, their depths becoming pools of liquid silver. But still, he was mocking me, calling my bluff. There was nothing sparking in the air between us and I couldn’t help but be intrigued. What was different about him? Why wasn’t he pulled into the same bullshit every other man on the planet had to suffer from?

             
“Absolutely,” I sat up straighter, my confidence gaining with each moment he held my gaze. “But I refused treatment; I prefer to live in denial.” I laughed.

             
“You’re basically like the female version of Tiger Woods,” Ryder stated but his eyes danced with amusement.