The Rush

The dinner continued on without me present, at least intellectually. Nix and my mother moved onto different, less life-changing topics. But I remained in the soul-wrenching limbo of suffocating hopelessness.



There was no point to breathing anymore. There was no need for air.



Chapter Eleven



You will be mine, Ivy. You will be mine. You will be mine. You will be mine.



“Hey are you, Ok? Ivy, are you Ok?” Kenna’s voice cut through the memory of last night and shook me into the present.



Breath.



One full breath.



“Um, yeah, I’m fine,” I smiled at her, hoping I looked fine. Obviously I didn’t, but to be fair, she caught me in the middle of reliving the worst nightmare of my life. And I had lived a lifetime of nightmares. “I was just thinking about something.”



She smiled back, but I could tell she didn’t really believe me. I relied on our acquaintance-only-status to keep her from prying further and with one more fortifying breath I turned my attention back to Chase as he inhaled his pizza. I reached over and stole a pepperoni before he could consume everything on his plate and then ignored the instinct to lick his plate clean for him.



“I tried to share with you,” Chase scolded. He wiped his hands on a napkin and gave my lonely orange and bottle of water a depressed once over. “That is so not enough food for lunch.”



“It’s plenty,” I argued, savoring the taste of the greasy pepperoni on my tongue. “I’m just not a big eater,” I explained. I wasn’t a big eater, but not by choice. It was part of the rules I lived with. I wanted to be a big eater. I wanted to weigh four hundred pounds and eat ice cream all day long and drink soda by the two-liter.



I wanted to wear elastic pants.



Chase made a noncommittal grunt that sounded like he didn’t really believe me either. I ignored him and dug into the orange in front of me, my fingernails sinking into the soft flesh causing juice to squirt out everywhere, speckling my hands with sticky spray.



“So who’s coming tomorrow night?” Phoenix asked by way of greeting. He sat down directly across from me, flashing a goofy grin and waggling his eyebrows. “Ivy, you in?”



“Yeah, I’m in,” I grinned back, and nudged Chase with my elbow. “Chase invited me.”



“Nice,” Phoenix’s smile grew bigger and he reached out with his gangly arms to steal my water bottle and take a drink. Apparently our lunch table was more like a communal buffet.



“Wait, is this the first date?” Ryder asked, squeezing in between Phoenix and Kenna. He threw his arm around Kenna and placed a quick kiss against her neck before waiting for the answer. I watched them helplessly, feeling something hollow and open in my heart but not understanding it.



Kenna giggled loudly and then wiggled out of Ryder’s arm so that she could finish her lunch. She really was pretty, even today when she wasn’t really trying. Her stick straight hair was thrown up into a messy bun, but it was so straight that it fell limply on top of her head. She was wearing a simple v-neck t-shirt and tight jeans with a loose scarf around her neck, but she was still eye-catching, still beautiful.



I found myself jealous for a moment. Not because I didn’t think I was pretty, I knew I was. But each one of my outfits had to meet the approval of my mother and anything less than perfectly styled hair was completely out of the question. Even the ballet flats I wore today with skinny jeans took hours of convincing and negotiating. My mother was under the impression that unless I was in at least four inch stilettos I just wasn’t trying.



I tore my eyes of Kenna to stare at Chase, expecting him to answer Ryder’s question. He was blushing just barely, his cheeks pinkened and his eyes averting me completely.



“This is the first date,” I acknowledged, saving Chase from having to answer.



“F for effort,” Ryder goaded. “Don’t get too attached to that one, if the best he can come up



with is a lame-ass party at Bates’ house.”



“It’s my fault,” I felt the unexplainable need to defend Chase from Ryder’s judgment. “I’m busy tonight and he had already promised Phoenix he would go.”



Ryder gave me a skeptical look and I wasn’t exactly sure what it was for, but Chase jumped in and saved me from asking. “Like you’re any better Sutton. You’re taking Kenna to the party, yeah?”



“Yeah,” Ryder agreed. “But tonight I have big plans.”



“Oh yeah?” Kenna nudged Ryder with her elbow gently. “What kind of plans?”



“Big ones,” Ryder smirked at her, and the innuendo was clear.



I felt my cheeks get warm and I had to avoid any eye contact at the table while everyone snickered and laughed around me. I didn’t know why I felt so embarrassed by Ryder’s comments; it wasn’t like my life was protected from sex, or sex-related activities. In fact, it was more inundated with them than anything. But I didn’t like to think about whatever Ryder had planned for Kenna tonight. For whatever reason those thoughts made me extremely uncomfortable.



“Hey,” Chase lowered his voice and leaned into me. “We don’t have to go to the party. We can always do our own thing.”



“No you can’t,” Phoenix jumped in, shaking his head and giving Chase a stern look. “No you can’t do your own thing. Ivy’s never been to one of my parties. They are seriously epic. There will be no ditching my party.” This was the most serious I had ever seen Phoenix, and he was still glaring at Chase.



“Geez, eavesdrop much?” Chase complained, shaking his head at his friend. “And you can’t peer pressure Ivy into going, she makes her own decisions.”



“Very true,” I laughed at the two of them going back and forth. And it was true. I was completely immune to peer pressure. Parental pressure was a whole different category however and in my case, so, so much worse. “Don’t worry, Phoenix, we’ll be there.” I turned to Chase and smiled at him. “I don’t want to disappoint him, he seems so pathetic.”



Chase just shook his head. “How do you always get your way, man?”



“Boyish good looks and infinite charm,” Phoenix offered seriously. “Oh and my parents have good weed.”



I let that sink in for a minute before declaring, “Nope, sorry, so not into recreational drugs.” I shook my head, my auburn hair whipping around my face, hammering in my point. I didn’t know what made my confession so absolutely vital, so important that I needed to say it out loud with loads of conviction. But I had to assume it had something to do with Kenna presuming my drink the other night was vodka. I had a reputation, and I couldn’t stop the rumors, but this group of people was different than anyone I had ever hung out with before. They were better…. more wholesome or something. And I felt myself wanting to prove my virtue. Which was totally lame….



“Oh, no worries,” Phoenix threw out immediately. “The weed is just there, I mean available. Personally, I never do it either, but my parents leave it where all my friends can find it. They think that makes them cool parents. I think it makes them irresponsible, but what can you do?”



“I don’t believe you,” a snide voice called from down the table. I lifted my eyes to meet the same girl that was mean to me before. I couldn’t remember her name. Initially I thought she was accusing Phoenix of lying, but by her pinched, hateful face I had to assume her statement was directed at me. “I’ve heard you’re into everything,” she continued, letting her ambiguous innuendo slide over every one of her words.



“She doesn’t do drugs anymore. Rehab, duh, Amber,” another voice from down the table scolded but with a fair amount of amusement in his annoying voice.



Hayden. Ugh.



“Oh that’s right,” Amber laughed like a hyena at my expense. Her chin length hair bobbed around her face and got stuck to her overly lacquered lips. Her eyes glinted maliciously at me.



That wasn’t the reason I didn’t do drugs. I would never do drugs. Ever. But those were reasons I had to keep private, reasons I couldn’t even admit to myself out loud. Plus, I still had to perpetuate the whole rehab lie anyway. In only three days, I had almost completely forgotten that I was supposed to be a recovering addict. That was one lie that was going to be hard to keep straight. Goodbye wholesome. Hello nasty rumors.



“Yep, the twelve steps and all,” I mumbled half-heartedly. I didn’t even know what the twelve steps were in truth. I knew they involved forgiveness, but that was the only one I could come up with. I should have probably googled the rest for obnoxious moments just like this.



“What does that even mean?” Ryder asked in an amused tone, drawing my attention back to our smaller group.



“Come on, don’t be a douche too,” Chase pleaded, saving me from answering. It was a good thing too, since I had no idea what I meant by that and I should have known better than to think Ryder wouldn’t call me out on my crap. “Are you alright?” Chase looked down at me and I felt enveloped in his protective care. His hand slipped to my lower back and I instantly felt better in his bubble of white-knighthood. It was really nice to have someone stick up for me, to say something on my behalf. Even if he was a victim in all of this too.



“I’m not trying to be a douche,” Ryder said a little bit softer and he drew my attention back to him. I met his gaze from across the table and couldn’t help but fall just a little bit into his silver depths. “Sorry, Ivy. I wasn’t trying to pick on you.” He held me motionless from where he sat; I was more than a little bit paralyzed by the look of sincerity in his eyes. I could see that he felt bad for calling me out, but that was it. There was nothing else there, no hidden desire, no blatant interest, just apology. He was completely immune to me and suddenly every single one of my thoughts was wrapped up in Ryder Sutton and how the hell he could resist me.



“Hey, it’s fine,” I shook my head, breaking our stare down and searching for anything else to look at. Chase’s hand warmed my back, setting of anxious feelings of guilt and embarrassment for letting myself get so sucked into the vortex of Ryder’s self-control. I settled my gaze on one of my orange peels and began shredding it between my fingers, shrinking a little from these unfamiliar emotions.



“Sam Evans doesn’t think it’s fine,” Amber half shouted from across the table.



My head snapped up with her accusation. Instantaneously I was consumed with every negative, hateful emotion possible. “Shut your filthy mouth,” I growled, not caring that there was a captive audience surrounding me. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t you ever say his name again with that much disrespect.”



Chase’s hand became stiff and still on my back, his whole body rigid next to me. I felt wide eyes burning into me with intense surprise and curiosity. But I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t explain how it was my fault what happened to Sam and that I would have to live with the guilt and sin of that night.



“Did I hit a nerve?” Amber smirked pompously.



“You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. So I suggest you stop talking now,” I threatened in a low voice. My hands had started to tremble so I clenched them together and hid them beneath the table. My breathing stuttered and staggered in a worthless attempt to draw in oxygen. Black spots prickled my vision and I could only fear the impending breakdown that was swooping down on me between the flashes of horrific memories of that night.



“God, you’re such a bitch,” Amber’s voice bit out from somewhere beyond the craziness playing out in my head.



I felt Chase whisper against my ear, asking if I was alright, but I wasn’t capable of answering him at this point. It was all caving in on me, my control was slipping, my future was fading away….



“Who’s the bitch?” a strong voice cut through my haze and called Amber out on her bullshit. “Don’t start shit you know nothing about just because you’re jealous.”



I lifted my eyes to Ryder who was very effectively putting Amber in her place. Her face had paled and her eyes filled with tears at his admonition. I felt the shattered pieces of my soul start to mend themselves back together and I worked to pull in a full breath, filling my lungs and expanding my chest. Ryder turned back to me, his gaze softening, his eyes searching.



“She’s been trying to hook up with Chase for two years,” Ryder explained in a loud enough voice that I knew this was still directed at Amber. “She’s jealous of you.”



I nodded because that was all I was capable of. Ryder held my eyes for half a minute more before turning back to a stunned Kenna. He went back engaging her in conversation, giving her every ounce of his doting attention. Slowly quiet chatter grew around us and everyone at our table seemed to move on. I leaned into Chase, enjoying the strength of his chest against my back, relishing in the warmth of his body pressed against me.



I would survive this.



I had to.



Chapter Twelve



“Finally!” Sloane called from the top of her staircase when my mother and I walked into her midtown French Beaux-arts design house. Her mother had drastically different taste than mine. Where my mother worshipped at the altar of modern chic, Sloane’s mother was all classic French doors and imported antique tiled floors. The house was a magazine spread waiting to happen, with expertly decorated classic French furniture and a drool worthy backyard grotto complete with a cozy fire pit and sunken fifteen-person Jacuzzi. “Up here now!” She snapped her perfectly manicured fingers impatiently and I couldn’t help but smile.



“Geesh! You are so bossy!” I called back, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. I hated being here tonight. I loathed being surrounded by these people, by these women who had sold their souls to the devil without putting up any kind of fight. But I loved my girls. And it was good to see them.