The Rush (The Siren Series) - By Rachel Higginson Page 0,16

a Goth sub-culture, but I also wasn’t the glamorous uber skank I usually dressed up as either. I was somewhere in between.

And in my daydreams and all the thoughts I had that centered around two years from now, I pictured myself one day having the opportunity to discover and explore what my real tastes and opinions were. I could not wait to try something on in a dressing room, decide I looked great only to hate it the minute I got home. Then, in these pipe dreams, I would complain about having to return it, go to the store anyway and purchase something as equally unflattering. Rinse and repeat.

As it stood now I didn’t get to choose my wardrobe. I barely got a say in what I wore on a day to day basis. And then I very secretly rebelled by going in the exact opposite way I lived my everyday life just because it was rebellion. I had no attachment to these clothes other than memories of concerts made of horrible music and boys not giving me even a second glance. I didn’t care for the way the pants clung to me and when I got sweaty they really clung to me, the shoes were well beyond their good years, hell they were way beyond retirement and my t-shirt and hoodie were just meh. But they were something my mother and Nix would disgust and even possibly not even recognize me in. And even better they made me feel, even if it was just for one night…. they made me feel alive.

And I desperately needed to feel alive.

Because if I didn’t feel alive, then I would feel…. dead.

And dead was unacceptable, because dead would mean giving up hope.

I shook my head to free myself of those thoughts and grabbed my ID, my regular, real school ID, not the fake ID from Nix, and a wad of cash and stuffed it all into my pocket. Yep, not even a purse. And then I took off for the long journey across downtown Omaha to NoDo, North downtown, via bus for my Wednesday night ritual.

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The sleek, trendy concert hall was packed with bodies, both underage and of-age. Partly because Wednesday nights were huge at the Slowdown with the under twenty-one crowd and also because the main stage was curtained off and the band was positioned at the back of the room on a mini-stage.

Sweat, beer and the faintest hint of weed wafted through the air. The space was almost completely dark, with every overhead light in the exposed ceiling turned off. Only the stage lights and dim bar lights over a large selection of alcohol illuminated the room. Tables were spread out in between the t-shirt stands in the back and the space in front of the stage where standing fans congregated. Board games were stacked unceremoniously on a cluttered bookcase near the front door and the stairs leading to the balcony were roped off. Welcome to the Slowdown.

The opening band was blasting on stage, their drums beating so loudly my heart was forced to keep quick rhythm and I felt the reverberation of the bass guitar to my very bones. I didn’t know their name, and really I didn’t need to. I just wanted to sport my under twenty-one wrist band that declared under no circumstances should I be served alcohol, even though the bouncer tried to convince me I looked twenty-one and would totally get away with a real wrist band…. come on…. what will it hurt?

His words not mine.

I said, “It will hurt me, damn it! I will obviously drink cheap tequila until I’m obliterated, then leave with some random, way-too-old-for-me-stranger, get knocked up, get into a drunk-driving accident and then I will die! And then you will be responsible for the death of a sixteen year old minor! Damn it!”

My exact words.

Then he shrunk back on his stool and gulped, “Sixteen?”

And then I walked into the music hall completely satisfied with how that went down.

Despite my aversion to certain libations tonight, I was still thirsty after two and a half hours on and/or waiting for various public transportations. So I pushed my way through the pressing crowd and to the bar. In the trek over I had to weave through lots and lots of bodies and then in order to get a place at the bar I had to stand near the back of the room where the t-shirts were being sold, and elbow my wait to the