The Rush (The Siren Series) - By Rachel Higginson Page 0,12

just really tired from school today and I have a lot to catch up on from the quarter that I’ve missed so far.”

“Oh, no, you’re not going with us. I just know Nix would appreciate it if you put some effort into yourself when you’re around him,” she explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She was my mother. My mother. Why was this Ok to her? Why couldn’t she see how wrong this was?

A million different responses flashed in my head, all of them intending to get me into trouble. “You’re right,” is what I said instead. “I’ll go change now.”

“Ivy,” she stopped me before I could get to the sanctuary of my bedroom. I turned to acknowledge her and faked a yawn, just in case she noticed the glassiness to my now tear filled eyes. “I’m glad you’re home, sweetheart. I missed you.”

“I’m glad to be home too, mom,” I answered, avoiding any accolade that had to do with her.

She rewarded me with her most charming smile, the one that would get millionaires to sign their wills with her as the sole beneficiary and make ordinary men melt into whimpering piles of stupidity. I mimicked the smile, knowing I looked like the mirror image of her and that it would on some level, drive her crazy.

The buzzer sounding near the door drew both of our attention. She waved me off to go get ready while she answered the door. I fled to my bedroom, not even waiting around to find out who was there.

I knew who it was.

Nix.

A shudder slithered down my spine; I felt it all the way to my toes and fingertips. I stopped from choking on the disgusted nausea that had wrapped around my stomach in a heavy blanket of warning and reminded myself that they were leaving.

This interaction would only last a minute, maybe a few minutes and then I would have the entire evening to myself. I would finally get to be alone and have precious moments to breathe.

I could do this.

I heard the door open outside of my room and the deep tones of a melodic male voice greet my mother. The voice had goose bumps rising quickly all over my skin in more forewarning. I shook my head out in a desperate attempt to get out of the fearful fog I had conjured around me.

I walked over to my closet and stared into the depths of cluttered clothing packed in tightly together. There was no way I was putting on the paper napkin my mother considered a dress. I needed something in between mega-slut and carelessly cute.

I threw myself into finding a perfect outfit. It wasn’t something I enjoyed doing, but after years of studying the art of dressing to impress, it was something I could do almost blindfolded. I picked through my massive closet that took up an entire wall of my large bedroom, tossing several pieces on my four poster queen-sized bed.

When I was satisfied with a few different options I laid them out carefully on my robin’s egg colored down comforter and decided from there. I went through the checklist before I came to my conclusion: spray tan, check; shaved legs, check; pedicure, check; tattoo concealer…. probably needed a touch up.

I settled on a pair of mostly white with black pinstripes shorts and a silky black cami: sexy but casual. I pulled my wavy reddish-gold hair into a side ponytail, letting the length of it hang over my shoulder and expose my neck. Then I reached into the deepest depths of my closet, into a mostly empty Louboutin shoe box where I retrieved my tattoo concealer. I applied it on the inside of my right wrist and then on my ribs, underneath my cami just in case.

I shivered again at what “just in case” could imply.

I looked myself over in my mirror, deciding that everything was in place and then returned the concealer to its hiding place. I practiced breathing with several deep breaths in and out and then turned to face my doorway. I could hear them out there, laughing and talking. They were so at ease with each other, with their whole lives.

It was insane.

They were insane.

And I was insane for putting up with this whole bullshit life.

I opened my door quietly, hoping they wouldn’t immediately notice me, but I was an idiot for holding out any kind of optimism. Their eyes fell on me at the exact same time and I had