The Rush

Copyright@ Rachel Higginson 2013

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Any people or places are strictly fictional and not based on anything else, fictional or non-fictional.

Editing services provided by Jennifer Nunez.

Printed in paperback through
Createspace as of March 2013 and available in Kindle and E-book

format
as of March 2013 through Amazon, Smashwords and Barnes & Noble.

To Miriah,

My dear friend.

Here’s to honesty and the F word.

Chapter One

              “Are you sure you’re up for this? You know after everything that happened last time?” asked the blonde haired sexpot dropping me off. My best friend, one of two of my only friends, and she was not even going to let me pretend this was Ok.

             
Which was why I loved her.

             
Even if my blood pressure could not even handle this situation.

             
“Obviously not,” I snapped. I took a breath, and then another one and then counted to five in my head to calm down, or attempt to calm down. I didn’t need to apologize to Exie; she would know she wasn’t the reason for my temper. Well, at least this time. “But what choice do I have?
He
says I have to go back to school, so
she
is making me go
here
. God, I can’t wait until I’m eighteen.”

             
“Like that will make any difference,” Sloane, the final third of our threesome remarked bitterly.

             
“Focus on the trust funds ladies, we have a plan,” I repeated our lifelong mantra softly, knowing it would soothe all of our nerves. Only two more years to go until that money became mine and I planned on taking full advantage of the dearly departed biological father I never got to meet. He stayed married long enough to my mother to knock her up, take care of my future and then give up his fight with cancer.

             
Thanks a lot Daddy Dearest.

             
That’s what made him such a phenomenal fatherly candidate. The cancer that is, and all of the money of course.

             
And it didn’t hurt, I’m sure, that before his illness had nearly finished the job of murdering him slowly and the chemicals had taken away his hair and stripped him of his dignity that he happened to be a very attractive man.

             
Or so my mother says.

             
I’ve never even seen a picture of him.

             
“I need to get out of here,” Exie grumbled, flipping her waist length blonde hair over her shoulder. “I feel like I’m going to catch something.”

             
“You’re such a snob, public school is not contagious,” I laughed.

             
“Are you sure about that?” Sloane clarified, narrowing her big brown eyes on the downtown campus.

             
Since I actually wasn’t sure, I didn’t answer. It could be contagious, what did I know?

             
“You guys better go anyway. We’re going to get mobbed if you don’t and I am really not in the mood for a pack of rabid high school boys this early in the morning. Or worse, jealous girlfriends.” I twirled a loose auburn curl around my finger absentmindedly, trying to remain casual. I didn’t like to get worked up about things. I mean, sure I was probably a little bit feisty with my temper, but other emotions bothered the hell out of me and I preferred to avoid them all together- yep,
all
emotions.

             
“What are you going to tell them, Ivy?” Exie asked with just the tiniest tone of sympathy. I turned to look her in the eyes, knowing both these girls hated feelings just as much as I did. I couldn’t say that’s why we were best friends. Honestly, we were friends because we had no other options, but it did surprisingly bond us together in a way that didn’t make much sense.

             
“I’m not going to tell them anything. I’m going to let them believe whatever rumors they want to and just focus on getting to graduation day.” I sighed, knowing that whatever rumors were being spread were not kind or flattering, but it was a routine I was familiar with.

             
“If that’s what you want,” Sloane sympathized. I had been down this road before, but a six month absence from school would only intensify whatever was being spread around about me.

             
“If you have a better idea S, I’m all ears. But I can’t tell them the truth, the girls will hate me no matter what, and the boys will keep being boys. So it doesn’t really matter what story they believe as long as they leave me alone in the process,” I snapped again.

             
Sloane let out a very long, exaggerated sigh and nodded her head in agreement with my argument. “You’re right.”

             
I sighed feeling guilty for my irritable behavior and gave her an apologetic smile. She raised a slim shoulder casually and sent me a small smile so I knew she didn’t hold it against me. We were all nervous about my return to school, all on edge. At least she understood where I was coming from.

             
“Hey, Ivy,” a teenage boy approached confidently. Oh great here we go.

             
“Oh hey, um….” I gave him a little head nod and prompted him for a name.

             
“Uh…. I’m Chase Merrick, we had a, uh, we had chemistry together last year,” Chase’s confidence started to fade under the scrutinizing gaze my friends and I were subjecting him to.

             
“Oh, yeah, I remember,” I lied, and forced my lips into a smile. It was almost painful. “How are you?”

             
“I’m good,” he smiled one of those charming smiles that popular boys reserve for their next conquest.

             
Lucky for him I was easy.

             
Ok, not easy…. I kept my legs together.

             
But I was looking for a boyfriend. I know that sounded trashy, but to be fair it wasn’t like I was some jungle animal on the prowl. It was just safer to be committed to someone. Plus, he was cute in that all-American way with his floppy sandy brown hair and perfect, white teeth. He even wore a letter jacket which was a major bonus for him even if he didn’t know it yet. A letter jacket meant that if I could tolerate this relationship longer than this school day he would at some point offer it to me and in turn I would wear it every day to support my awesome new boyfriend. That all led to effectively branding me as “taken” for the whole school to see.

             
On closer examination he had dimples.

             
Another point for…. um…. Chase?

             
Yes. Chase.

             
“So you’re back?” he asked breaking the silence and my tally of his better qualities.

             
“We’re going to go, Ivy, before you know, we need a prescription for this or something,” Exie interrupted in her best valley girl impersonation.

             
“Alright, pick me up?” I asked, turning to receive the light hug each of them would give me. It was moments like this that we were perfect imitations of our mothers. And that annoyed the
hell
out of me.

             
“Oh, do you need a ride?” Sloane asked barely containing her smirk.

             
“I could give you a ride if you need one,” Chase gallantly offered.

             
What a gentleman.

             
“Really? I don’t live far. Thank you. That would be such a life-saver,” I played up my enthusiasm but everything inside me felt dead.

             
“Sure, it’s my pleasure,” Chase smiled again, popping out his identical dimples.

             
“Ladies, I’ll call you later,” I told them. I turned to face them while walking backwards up the long set of stairs that led to the school building.

             
“Just breathe, Ivy,” Sloane called out knowing I needed some last minute advice. “Two years, that’s all, just two years!”

             
I continued walking backwards, taking each step in stride and watched Exie and Sloane climb into Exie’s brand new, silver BMW. She gunned the engine and then cut across traffic dangerously.

Central High School was located exactly downtown Omaha on one of the busiest streets,
Dodge, which ran almost exactly down the middle of the city. It was also the most traffic jammed street, especially at this time of the morning. Exie was lucky she didn’t nick her brand new car in the onslaught of oncoming traffic. She got off lucky with a few honking horns and a confused but angry homeless man who screamed obscenities at her from the sidewalk.

             
I cringed for her and her lack of driving ability. But then again, she probably didn’t even notice.

             
“So, Chase, are you a junior or a senior?” I asked, dropping my gaze to my future boyfriend as he followed me up the stairs like a loyal puppy.

             
“A senior,” he smiled. He answered everything with a smile. His happiness was going to a problem. I really hated breaking the happy ones’ hearts.

             
“Oh, exciting!” I gushed, and this time I almost meant my enthusiasm. He only had nine months left until he could write his own ticket out of here.

             
So jealous.

             
“Yeah, I guess,” he laughed, probably surprised by the sudden energy in my voice. “I still have to figure out where I’m going to school next year though.”

             
“Undecided?” I asked and he nodded in response. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You seem like a smart guy.”

             
I said that generously because I seriously had to wonder why we would have been in the same chemistry class if he was such a genius. Although maybe chemistry had been one of my AP classes…. I couldn’t remember. Last year seemed so long ago and I really hated remembering it anyway.

             
He chuckled at my way-too-cliché compliment and mumbled a “thanks.”

             
Chase actually seemed like the kind of guy to be put off by obvious flirting. He was the type of guy that could probably pick and choose his girls and didn’t need them to throw themselves at him for attention. Ugh. It just wasn’t fair that he didn’t really have a choice when it came to me.

             
“I like your hair this color by the way,” his smile turned shy.

             
“Not a fan of the black?” I forced myself into conversation about my past. Really, seriously, truthfully…. I
hated
thinking about anything from last year.

             
“I mean, it was pretty. You could do anything to your hair and you would still be gorgeous,” he offered thoughtfully, like I didn’t already know that. It was all part of the curse. “But I like this red color; it goes better with your freckles.” He reached up and brushed his pointer finger along the bridge of my nose to emphasize his point.

             
I crinkled my nose in reaction and blushed a deeper shade of red than I felt comfortable with. I hated my freckles.
Hated
them. Granted they weren’t excessive, just a smattering of light brown on the bridge of my nose, and no doubt designed to make me some kind of more beautiful than the average girl, but they drew every eye and boys were constantly making comments about them.