“You’re doing really well, Ivy. Ryder’s a bastard,” Phoenix encouraged from behind his drums. His hairline and the collar of his shirt were damp with sweat but he never stopped twirling his drum sticks. If he wasn’t throwing his entire body into the song, then he twirled them between his long fingers while he waited for the next one to start. He looked extra gangly perched upon the tiny drum stool, but this was exactly his element, exactly where I could tell he felt most alive.

“Thanks Phoenix,” I smiled at him and his whole face lit up. The curse was extra hard to control when music was involved, but these guys seemed to be Ok. Besides, all my frustration and failure probably obscured whatever elevated affects swirled around in the air.

“I didn’t mean that you weren’t doing well, Red,” Ryder immediately put in and I could tell he felt bad for all of his “helpful” tips that had been fraying my nerves for the last two hours. “I was just trying to say that was the best you’ve sounded. I get that this isn’t easy for you.”

“It’s fine, Ryder,” I offered politely. “I get that this is your thing. I don’t want to mess it up for you. But I did tell you this would be a problem. I won’t be offended if you guys don’t want me after all.”

“We want you,” Hayden piped up quickly. “Ivy, I want you at least.”

Ugh, that so sounded like an innuendo coming from him.

“Creep much, Hayd?” Cole grunted. I could tell Cole was just as interested in me as Hayden was, but his shy nature and quiet personality kept him from turning into stalker material.

“Shut it, Cole,” Hayden grumbled.

“Why don’t you both shut up and leave her alone?” Phoenix’s voice rose above both of them.

Ok, and this was my cue to leave.

“Actually, I have to get home before my curfew,” I announced cavalierly. “Sorry to break up practice.”

Everyone kind of gave a whine of disappointment but backed away from the fight that was about to break out. Well, everyone except Ryder sounded disappointed. I chanced a peek at him, but he was already looking at me, eyes narrowed, expression tense. His hand was half way through his hair and tugging at the roots.

“I’ll just take these,” I picked up the sheet music and then tapped them against the smooth top of the keyboard so they all lined up together. “I can practice at home on my real piano and hopefully next time…. uh, if there is a next time….”

After a long, awkward few moments of silence Ryder finally relieved my tension, “See what you can do at home and then we’ll try again in a few days. Maybe you and I can just get together and see if you can hear the guitar melody a bit better.”

“Sure, sounds great,” I smiled but there was no enthusiasm in my voice. Ryder had to have been able to tell, but he just kept looking at me like he was waiting for me to come clean about something.

The band began to pick up various pieces of equipment and instruments and pack them away. I glanced at the microwave clock in the kitchen desperate to be away from all this competitive testosterone, hating that these guys felt a contest over me and then hating that I felt disappointed Ryder wasn’t trying to join in.

I stood awkwardly outside of the practice area, since I didn’t know how to put anything away and my only task was picking up my sheet music. I tried not to stare at the band, but it was difficult. They were kind of fascinating with how much care they took with each piece of equipment or how cruel they were to each other… but in a funny, happy way.

Boys. They were so different from girls.

I felt like I was a National Geographic photographer observing like African lions in their natural habitat. Honestly all I needed was a pair of cargo khakis and a British accent.

The male drummer turns to face his natural enemy the male bass player. They eye each other for a while before the second guitarist jumps in with a harsh quip about the bass players frayed skull cap. This is the opportunity the drummer has been waiting for and he pounces on the bass player until he emerges victoriously-

“What are you thinking about?” Ryder broke into my thought train so suddenly I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Nothing,” I squeaked.

“Really? Because you have this really deep-in-thought look on your face,” Ryder remarked honestly.

The blush returned. “Um, are you going to take me home or should I call someone?” I changed the subject before he could ask any more questions, but I also really needed to know.

“Actually, is it alright if Phoenix takes you? I was working earlier so it worked out, but it would be easier for me if he took you. You’re right on his way,” Ryder explained.

See? No curse. If he felt the curse no way would he send me away with another guy.

“Sure, that’s no problem,” I replied with so much energy Ryder shot me an offended look. “I mean,” I faltered a little, “whatever works for you.”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes narrowed on me. “Are you Ok with taking Ivy home, Phoenix?”

“Huh? Oh sure! Yeah, it’ll be fun, won’t it Ives?” Phoenix grinned at me with this huge, boyish smile and I had to fall in love with him just a little bit more. The feeling made me instantly want to text Exie and make up some excuse for her to meet me at my apartment just so she could run into him again. But then I quickly squashed it. Exie’s rules weren’t exactly the same as mine, but Nix still ran the show in her life. A relationship with anybody would eventually be terminated and I didn’t want to do that to Phoenix. Or Exie.

“Yes, we will!” I gushed. “But can we go soon? I really do have a curfew I have to be back for.”

“Sure. I’ve got everything packed up so we can just take off now,” Phoenix started walking toward the door, shooting Ryder a peace-out over his shoulder.

Peace out?

People still said peace out?

Fifteen minutes later, Phoenix pulled up to my apartment in his beat up El Camino and told me how amazing it was to have me in the band for about the millionth time. He had been gushing nonstop since we left Ryder’s and I couldn’t even get one word in to remind him that I hadn’t played good at all. In fact, I was almost positive I was going to destroy their entire reputation and fan base.

But that wasn’t something Phoenix could comprehend right now.

“Are you sure you guys don’t know anyone else that can play the piano? I mean there has to be somebody.” I turned in my seat, determined to help Phoenix remember somebody else that could fill this role.

Phoenix looked at me for a beat. No, not looked, Phoenix examined me, took in everything about me with a lucidity I had never seen him use before. “Sure, there are other people that play, we could have asked others.”

A breath of relief whooshed out of my lungs and I felt a huge burden lift off my shoulders. “Oh, good.”

“But Ryder wants you.” Phoenix continued, not noticing my reaction at all, despite this new found clarity. “I think he thinks you’re a troubled teen. That you need like, an outlet or something.”

Harsh laughter ripped out of my mouth. The statement was both true and ironic. And annoying. “He thinks I need an outlet?”

“Uh, yeah,” Phoenix mumbled, realizing he might have said something he wasn’t supposed.

“He thinks I need an outlet? For my troubled behavior?” I ran through it again, just to make sure I had all the facts correct. Anger built inside me quickly the more I repeated the words in my head. “What does Ryder think will happen if I don’t have an outlet?” My voice rose to an angry screech and Phoenix flinched a bit. “Does he think, what, I’ll turn to drugs? Drinking? I’ll hurt someone again? What does he think will happen, Phoenix?”

“Uh….” Phoenix glanced at my apartment entry nervously before daring to meet my eyes. I didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but this was ridiculous. “I don’t know, Ivy. I just know he’s really worried about you. He cares about you. We all care about you.”

All of the dangerous energy left me in a rush of defeat. I slumped against the frayed maroon upholstery of the El Camino and slammed the back of my head against the head rest. People were not supposed to care about me. This was not supposed to happen. I had a checklist.

1. Follow the rules.

2. Keep my head down.

3. Graduate.

4. Get the hell out of Dodge.

How did things get so messed up?

“Are you going to quit?” Phoenix braved, his voice gentle and soothing.

“No,” I gave in. This was a mistake, a huge mistake. But I couldn’t walk away from these people. I shouldn’t involve them in my life, and I certainly shouldn’t expect their feelings for me to be real…. But I couldn’t walk away from them now. I cared about them too. “But I’m not this, this person Ryder’s made me out to be, Ok, Phoenix? I’m just fine, really.”

“If you say so, Ivy,” Phoenix shot me a sad smile. “But, uh, before you go…. I’ve been meaning to ask you about, um, Exie?”

Despite the mood I slipped into, I couldn’t stop smiling at Phoenix. “Yeah? Exie?”

“Is she like, with anybody?”

“Um, not that I know of,” I encouraged. Even though I knew she actually was with somebody, but not somebody that mattered and she was probably plotting their breakup already anyway.

“So she gave me her number, but I didn’t know if she, you know…. should I call her?” he asked so adorably nervous I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Yes, Phoenix. If she gave you her number, you should definitely call her.” I was actually impressed with him. Exie did not just give out her number to random people. Even a lot of the guys she hooked up with didn’t get her cell number. Of course they also didn’t last more than a couple days. And I was hoping Phoenix would last for more than that. Exie had a chance at some happiness with Phoenix and I just wanted her to have that, have some happiness, for at least a little bit.

“Thanks Ivy,” his huge grin was back, lighting up his entire face. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yep, thanks for the ride,” I climbed out of the car and all the way up the stairs, through the glass doors and to the elevator. This night turned out weird, fun, frustrating and…. just weird all the way around.

I didn’t know if I would ever find my equilibrium with Ryder.

The door to my apartment was open when I got off the elevator and a shot of nerves zapped through me. Shoot.

As the elevator doors quietly closed behind me my mother appeared in the doorway. Her bronzed red hair hanging loose and wild around her shoulders, her usually bright green eyes were dulled and anguished in the corners and her mouth was pressed into a grim line as she watched me approach.

Although our apartment building was not entirely full yet since it opened a few years ago, this floor was. However we didn’t know any of our neighbors. It was dangerous to get to know people where we lived, the curse was unpredictable and we preferred to live without the drama. Besides, my mother was a selfish creature and making friends was not necessarily a top priority for her.

Her priorities started with making money and then only became variables of that.

Because we didn’t know our neighbors and didn’t care to know them, I knew I was safe until the door shut behind me, but walking down the long hall with her eyes so hatefully turned on me was intimidating.

To say the least.

“Where have you been?” she snapped as the door clicked closed behind me.

She hadn’t moved, except to allow us privacy. Still framed in the doorway, her hands had moved aggressively to her hips and her eyes narrowed into slits of fury.

“I was out with Chase,” I lied. Blatantly.

She seemed to chew that over for a minute before deciding that was an acceptable response. She forced a breath out and a wave of whisky hit me. Then she wobbled on her feet and I knew this was bad.

She never drank whisky. Never.

Lady’s only ever drink delicate drinks. Save the hard stuff for the boys.

Still, when things went badly for her, she hit the sauce. And hard.

“Are you Ok, mom?” I asked before thinking better of it.

“Of course, I’m Ok,” she bit out, her relaxed eyes instantly tensing again. “Have you gained weight?”

I opened my mouth, closed it again and then opened it. “Um, no, I don’t think so.”

“Oh, well maybe you need to drop three pounds anyway, Ivy,” her tone was that pretending kind of care. A sick feeling washed over me and settled in my stomach. “You’re coming into womanhood and you don’t want that extra weight to settle in unflattering places.” I just nodded slowly. Three pounds felt like too much to me. I already barely ate. Ugh. But mom wasn’t finished, she continued with “Did you dye your hair again?”

Her question caught me off guard. “Um, no, not since I dyed it back.” I touched the end of my golden red hair and then held it up to the light. Before Sam I had gone through this super rebellious phase and dyed it black. It wasn’t so much this desire to get in touch with myself as it was to send a big F you to Nix and my mom. Of course it backfired when Sam crashed his car into the streetlight. But at the time I had felt pretty badass.

Now I knew better. Pissing off Nix and my mom only intensified their efforts to break me. The new game plan, to simply slip away in the dead of the night, was my only hope.

“It looks darker. Oh, god, I hope this isn’t how it stays. You probably ruined it when you dumped all that black poison on it.” She took a step forward and grabbed a chunk full of my hair. Her fingers closed around a fistful of it, near the roots and she yanked it toward her. I winced a little when biting pain shot across the base of my neck and up to the crown of my head.

“Ow, mom,” I whispered.

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