The Rush (35 page)

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Authors: Rachel Higginson

BOOK: The Rush
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Ever.

             
Except when I caught Ryder looking at me not four seconds later, I quickly remembered that you were never supposed to say never….

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

              I followed the sheet music religiously. It was the only way I knew how to play. To be honest, it was a bit embarrassing that I didn’t have the creative ingenuity to just improvise. Especially when that seemed to be what everyone else was doing.

             
Especially Ryder.

             
I knew he was talented, but he didn’t have to be the smart kind of talented that made everyone else feel stupid.

             
I took private lessons for thirteen years.
Thirteen
.

             
He apparently picked up his dad’s guitar at twelve and turned into a prodigy.

             
Ugh.

             
“I can’t do this,” I grumbled at the end of the millionth play through. It was this melancholy ballad with a pretty piano melody that played above everything else. Ryder’s voice sang rough and raw about a lonely girl with eyes that saw everything and a heart that felt nothing.

             
As soon as Ryder started singing the lyrics I shot him a sharp look, but he shook his head to deny it. Since then I had been living in a world I liked to refer to as blissfully ignorant. Although, others might have called it denial. Still, if he said it wasn’t about me, then who was I to disagree? Also, I didn’t want to be the girl he was singing about. She sounded sad, and alone and…. empty.

             
And I wasn’t empty.

             
Mostly, I was just…. afraid.

             
Of so many things.

             
“You were better that time,” Ryder called encouragingly after the last notes of the song drifted off to nothing. “You were uh, more on time.”

             
I blushed immediately, a deep red that painted my skin. I could feel the heat in my face and across my collar bone, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I wasn’t used to being bad at something. “This is so different than what I’m used to.”

             
“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.

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