The Rush - Page 24/43


She looked over at us having missed the entire exchange.

“Exie….” Phoenix smirked. “Sexy Exie?”

That got her attention....

“Oh my gosh, Sexy Exie? That is so clever. How did you ever come up with something so original? I’ve never heard that in my life. Please say it again. Go on, say it again,” she demanded flatly.

I bit back a smile because Phoenix looked so overwhelmed. It wasn’t his fault guys had been using that nickname for Exie for as long as she could remember.

“Say it again. Come on. Say it,” Exie taunted Phoenix further. The poor guy was cowering. This huge, gangly man-child was honestly cowering.

“Uh…. Sexy-“

“Don’t! It’s a trap!” I shrieked, not even willing to put up with her wrath tonight. I shook my

head at Phoenix and gave him my scary eyes. “You know better. Do not poke the beast.”

“Girls are confusing,” he said slowly with a shake of his head.

“Don’t worry, Phoenix, Exie is going to forgive you because you just met her,” I turned my

serious eyes to my friend and demanded silently that she give him another shot. He wasn’t like

the guys we normally met and he certainly wasn’t trying to impress her just to get in her pants.

She had to see that. He was like the most innocent high school boy ever.

“Fine,” Exie relented. “I’ll forgive you, Phoenix, but no more Sexy Exie jokes, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out a sigh of relief but with Exie’s startling blue eyes fully focused intently on him, he never really relaxed. “What about Sexy Rexie jokes? Are those allowed?”

I cringed, waiting for Exie’s reaction, but she simply shrugged and said, “I don’t get it.”

“Empire Records? One of the greatest movies from the 90’s? Maybe of all time!” Phoenix’s face widened in surprise as the three of us shook our heads, completely in the dark for most movies made in the 90’s…. let’s be real. “First Ivy hasn’t seen Austin Powers. Now this! It’s like not humanly possible not to have seen these movies.”

“Nope, sorry,” Exie smiled, turning back into her charming self. “I haven’t seen either of those.”

“Yikes, Ives, that was a close one,” Sloane mumbled into my ear while Phoenix jumped into the cliff notes version of Empire Records and then started dancing…. “Exie almost went apocalyptic on your new friends. Entertaining, yes. But oh so dangerous.”

“No kidding,” I grumbled. “You have to help me keep an eye on her. No more outbursts.”

“What is he doing?” Sloane looked over at Phoenix with open curiosity while he wiggled his hips at the same time he shook his outstretched knee and sang into a pretend microphone.

“I have no idea,” I blinked a few times just to make sure this was real.

“It’s from the movie,” Exie giggled. “Some character named Lucas?”

Kenna walked over from where the rest of the band was hanging out and smiled at us. “Hey, we’re all headed over to Amsterdam for some late night doner kabobs. You guys want to come?”

“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.