7. Ivy
CHAPTER 7
Ivy
I roll over onto my stomach, as if that will somehow help me concentrate when I’ve been reading the freaking same line over and over again for the past forty-eight minutes.
Lately, my concentration has been shit, and I refuse to think of the reason.
As far as I’m concerned, if it’s out of mind, it’s out of your system, so why dwell on it?
But then, that’s not how guilt works…
FOCUS!
I shake my head and go back to the words on the page, but I can feel my leg twitching.
Why do we lie?
Why do we keep secrets?
I’ve been asking myself the same question for that past week, and all my reasons sound plausible but then what about the consequences?
The acoustic version of "Nervous" by Gavin James is crooning softly from the speakers.
In the corner of the room, my bags are packed and ready.
Most of my stuff’s already gone but I can’t help but feel out of sorts, as if I’m existing in a time warp.
I was accepted to all the med schools I applied to.
Grammy and Samuel were ecstatic, which made me sick for three straight days.
My friends sent flowers and gifts in the form of a personalized, bejeweled, top-of-the-line Littmann stethoscope and a doctor’s white coat with my name.
I broke down crying that night.
What happens when they all find out that I’m a fraud?
These people are not idiots. The only reason they haven’t found out yet is simply because they have no reason to doubt.
And usually, people have no reason to doubt pathetic, invisible people.
If you’re easy to forget, you’re easy to dismiss.
On one hand, I’m relieved about that, but on another the meaning behind it all just hurts so deep.
Maybe that’s why I picked a fight with Samuel… or maybe I just wanted to fish for something.
“You’ve been giving me the silent treatment for a solid two days now.”
I stare intently at my Gray’s Atlas of Anatomy textbook, pretending like I didn’t hear what the idiot standing in my doorway just said.
“I know you’re not even reading that thing.”
I force my eyes to move, but the words blur together, but it doesn’t really matter. I’ve read this particular textbook from cover to freaking cover about eight times already.
Even though I’ve read it so much that my eyes could pop, I still need to read it a few more times because for me, it’s the retaining information and the understanding part that trips me up like crazy.
If I could automatically get into med school by how much I’ve read, then this would be a shoo-in! Unfortunately, talent is nothing in the world of academia.
This is the result one gets when one is unfortunate enough to have the kind of damaged brain that doesn’t work as well as it should.
“Ivy,” Samuel calls my name again. I know he’s getting frustrated. “You know you’re being ridiculous, right?”
Unconsciously, I run my middle finger over the ugly scar at my temple.
“Is that your signal?” the idiot questions with an equally dumbfounded look on his face. “Because if that’s you giving me the finger, then you kinda need to work on that some more, but since we both know you never have the guts to actually do that, why don’t you use your words to express your displeasure? Maybe try cursing me out this time, Pumpkin.”
I whip my head around to glare at the idiot.
“Don’t call me that!”
Samuel, aka Spider, smirks.
He’s a huge guy, looks scary and can be intimidating as hell when he wants to be, especially if you don’t know him. You’d think twice before you think of approaching him, let alone crossing him in some way.
I guess that little feature is extremely useful for him, you know, for his line of questionable work.
To me, he’s just downright annoying. Like he is in this moment.
“Ah, she speaks! Praise be!” He raises both his arms as if he’s in church.
“And she bites too!” I snarl, to which he just laughs as if regarding a toothless puppy.
“Just so you know, you’re a shitty actress,” Samuel chuckles as he steps into my room, uninvited. “Even when you were a kid, you could never fool Grammy. Your poor attempts of pretending to be sick to avoid going to school are evidence of that.”
“As compared to your excellent prowess in deception?” I counter.
I can still recall when girls at my old school would surround me in the bathroom or in hallways to quiz me, puzzled about how I could possibly be related to the amazing Spider.
I’d frown and say his name is Samuel Theodore Irving, not this Spider business.
But that never embarrassed him. In fact, even the principle started calling him Spider, but I just wanted him to be called an STI.
Yes, I was a jealous, annoyed sibling.
It sucks when you’re an introverted nerd with brain issues living in the shadows of your famous, idolized older brother’s limelight, even though we weren’t in the same school. When I was in middle school, he was already a high school senior with a legacy that was way too high for my weak, boring ass to ever compete with.
And then one day, the tides shifted, the threat was imminent, and then we left…
“Well, what can I say? I’m just a lovable guy,” he says with a smile.
“And apparently, a liar.”
He sighs heavily.
“Pumpkin…”
“I told you not to call me that!”
“It’s a habit, sorry.”
I roll my eyes. “What do you want?”
“Damn,” he fake-cries. “Not even a how are you first?”
I look up and into his handsome face. We look alike, my brother and I.
With deep brown eyes that are so intense, they could be identical, same beautiful brown skin, Afro, kinky curly hair, and similar noses.
But that’s about where the similarities end.
Where he’s an extrovert giving off main character energy three hundred and sixty-five days with no days off, I’m merely an extra character, barely existing in the background of my own life.
He’s intelligent without trying.
I have to put up a farce and work my ass off just to keep up. I barely made it through college these past few years.
Where he intentionally goes after what he wants, I pretend like I don’t want anything because, well, I’ve never been one to get what I want.
I always watch everything I want slip past me, never in my grasp.
I watch as other people enjoy what I worked hard for, what I wanted… so in order to avoid the intense pain of rejection—which I’m still suffering from to this day—I’ve talked myself into not wanting anything.
It’s pretty self-toxic, I know.
Pretending that it doesn’t bother me that I was abandoned.
Acting like I’m not traumatized and drowning in guilt over what happened many years ago when my grandfather died instead of me.
Learning to ignore the sting of never being asked out on a date.
Attempting to ignore the fact that I’ve never been kissed before, let alone that I’m still a virgin, albeit one that shamefully owns a brand-new vibrator that’s still in its packaging in the deepest corner of my closet.
If you want nothing, you’ll never lose anything.
It’s lonely, I know, but no hurt is far better than putting yourself out there and still getting rejected. Which is something I’ve done, so I’m not talking out my ass here.
“Ivy!”
“What?” I realize then that my brother is staring at me with that look on his face. “I spaced out again, didn’t I?”
“And here I thought you had that under control lately.”
“I do!” He stares at me silently. “I really do have it under control. I don’t have time to zone off into my imaginary worlds.”
“Then what was that?”
“I was just hating you.”
“Listen, Ivy.” He blows a breath. “I’m only looking out for you with this. Stay away from New York City.”
I immediately look up at him. “You don’t get to just order me around and not tell me the reason.”
“Is the reason more important than my concern for you?” he counters.
“Concern?” I scoff. “The moment I mentioned New York City you immediately vetoed it as if this is your choice but guess what Samuel, it’s not up to you! It’s up to me!”
“Damn it, Ivy, just listen to me!” he says in a terse voice that he hardly uses.
“Tell me why!” I demand, staring at him, but he just falls silent, his lips pressing together in an unhappy line.
I frown.
I already know why he’s been dodging this, which is what’s been really eating at me.
If Samuel already knows about who’s in NYC, how long has he known and not told me?
But beyond that, what else is he keeping to himself? I doubt Grammy even knows.
“It’s a dangerous city!” he says.
“Because LA is a safe haven.”
“This town—bless its bougie, ridiculously expensive culture—is not the same as New York,” he says. “Don’t be a smart-ass.”
“Seeing as I’ll be a New Yorker soon, I might as well polish up on my snarky attitude then.”
Samuel blows a frustrated breath.
“You’re not going to New York City,” he says as if it’s a settled matter.
“Sure,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
“Jesus, Ivy, why are you being stubborn about this?” he demands, eyes narrowed at me. “You’ve never really cared about New York.”
That’s because since the time we ran from this town, he's been actively dissuading me from that city. But now, after finding out what I know now, it’s clear Samuel was doing it on purpose.
“Do you really want to know?” I ask, closing the book and putting it down. I stare at my brother, hurt brewing in me.
“Yes,” he mutters softly. “Tell me what I’m missing here.”
“Because you’re keepings secrets from me,” I say immediately.
If I wasn’t looking directly at him, I would’ve missed the quick flash of emotion that flits across his face.
“Keeping secrets from you?” He chuckles. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ivy. You know everything about my life.”
“That’s another lie.”
He stares at me.
I stare right back but my insides are screaming, begging him to tell me.
“Ivy…”
“Are you stirring my interest away from going to that city because there might be someone there that you don’t want me to see?”
The words just blurt out of me before I can stop them.
“How long have you known?” I keep going. “Have you been in touch with her?”
The more I ask, the more his face shifts from the half smile he was wearing to a stoic expression.
“Are you surprised that I found out?”
“No,” he finally mutters. “I’m surprised that you’re still a deluded little girl that chases after things that don’t want you.”
Shock trembles through my body at those words.
“What?”
“Come on, Ivy,” he starts, standing ramrod straight in the middle of my room, watching me steadily. “I’ve seen you pine over that boy all your life when he never even gives you a second glance.”
Pain slithers through me as those words sink in.
“I’ve heard you cry in this very room, break down, face major depression and anxiety from being in a one-sided relationship with that boy and now, finding out you’re still fixated on Beverly Irving is probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”
A ragged breath escapes my lips. I’m almost panting for breath at this point, my ears ringing at my brother’s words.
“I know your mind is a minefield and who knows what goes on in there, but you must never forget the pain and trouble Grammy has been through and don’t you dare forget how Gramps died.”
Before I even realize it, tears are streaming down my cheeks.
Gramps…
He died because of me.
Samuel’s message is very clear, but I didn’t think he’d actually hurt me like this.
“I…” I croak. “I’ll never forget.”
“Really? Then why have you been searching for Beverly again?” Samuel demands, not backing off for a second. “Are you such a pathetic individual that you’re starved for affection in a way that you have to run after the woman who abandoned you the day she gave birth to you?”
A powerful chill goes through me at the reminder.
I look down at my bed, but everything is now a blur, the haunted image of the night Gramps died playing in my head over and over again.
“And don’t even get me started with the trouble you put this family through after meeting that Easton boy.”
“I didn’t meet him intentionally; he was just there!” I cry, attempting to defend myself.
“And yet you were fished out of the sea together and you damaged his heart!” Samuel says seriously.
A sob is trapped in my throat now. I can feel an attack coming.
“Now look at you, depressively in love with a man whose family trapped the life of the woman who raised you!” Samuel continues. “They boxed Grammy in and when things went severely wrong for them, guess who they wanted to throw to the wolves? Us!”
The truth of the past plays in my head all over again.
That night changed everything.
I ran away. Gramps died saving me. And then Grammy’s life completely changed.
“Do you remember how Grammy always wanted to move out to Colorado?” Samuel starts softly. “Well, guess what, Ivy? She’s never been able to leave this town!”
“I know…” I whisper.
“In this town, Grammy lost both her husband, who she loved with her entire soul, and her daughter broke her heart. And now look, the ungrateful granddaughter she raised is now going to look for that same heartbreak.”
“Stop, please,” I whisper.
“No, I won’t. Someone needs to help you with this. I’m your brother. I’ll be damned if I let some asshole, let alone our absent-as-fuck non-parents, hurt you to a point where your heart is broken repeatedly by the expectations you’ve been building with those little fantasies of yours,” Samuel says firmly. “Beverly Irving is dead to us. She’s nothing, and as for that boy, he doesn’t feel the same way for you as you think you do for him.”
It’s like a cannon just went off in the room.
“I know that!” I yell, my lungs squeezing in my chest.
Immediately, Samuel moves to my desk and rummages around, then quickly walks over to my bed with my inhaler.
With trembling hands, I grab it and take a pump. Then I take another.
But the tension in my chest doesn’t ease. I still feel like I’m dying, so I take another, all the while my brother stands over me, watching with a worried expression on his face.
“Better?” he says softly.
I stare at him through my tears, not knowing what to say.
“I’m sorry if that hurt you but, sis, I had to.”
It takes a moment for the attack to subside and when it does, I’m now sitting upright with Samuel pacing in my room.
“I also know you blame me for Gramps death. I blame myself too,” I start.
“Ivy, that’s not?—”
“I also know you hate me.”
“No—"
“Don’t worry, I hate myself too,” I whisper brokenly.
I know what I did that night. And a few nights later, I know the bondage I subjected my family to.
I know that falling for Emmett Easton was the worst, most stupid thing that has ever happened to me and my family.
I know all that.
But, I couldn’t help it.
Now, I’m just trying to atone.
“Brother, I know you’ve kept the information on our mother secret from me because you were trying to protect me. I know you had other reasons, but has it ever crossed your mind how broken I am from everything?”
“Ivy…”
“You don’t have to remind me of my sins. I know them intimately and I’m living the consequences of it all, but do me a favor, Samuel.” I look at him now, with clear eyes. “Please let me atone.”
This shocks him for a few seconds.
“I’ve already cut Emmett Easton out of my life. As far as he knows, I’m not a concern because of my broken mind,” I say as I get up to pack the book I was just reading. “Gramps went to school in New York, and so will I.”
This makes him frown.
“I want to be a doctor! I want to follow in Gramps’ footsteps.”
Samuel watches me with a penetrating gaze.
“That sounds nice and all but don’t tell me you’re doing it for him .”
I have to fight hard not to react to those words, but well, what can I do when my brother is fully aware of my pathetic feelings for someone who royally fucked up my family’s lives?
But that doesn’t matter. I’ve since decided to bury that ugly hatchet and move on.
“There are thousands of sick people around the world, why should Emmett Easton be the sole reason that sways the direction of my life?”
“Because I’ve seen those books.”
“What books?” I sit up straight now, panic clear in my voice.
“Why do you look anxious now? I know you spend hours upon freaking hours researching heart diseases and cardiac surgeries. You call researchers in different countries, watch tapes from both failed and successful surgeries. It's like you devoted your freaking life to him.”
“I didn’t!”
“So who else would make you do all that, huh?”
A throbbing sensation blooms in my chest.
“It’s for me!”
“For yourself?” He scoffs. “Ivy, you never take care of yourself when you should. You reach your hand out to danger when you should be protecting yourself, and you expect me to think you’ve been doing all this mindless work for yourself?”
He’s angry, I can tell, but so am I.
For going above and beyond for a guy who never once felt the same for me.
But this is bigger than Emmett and I can’t give up now.
“I’m still going to be a doctor for myself.”
“That’s good, but my answer is still no,” he says firmly.
I pause, thinking about it.
“I’m sorry, Samuel. I love you, but you’re not going to stop me.”
This angers him. “What?”
“I’m still going.”
“And how will you do that when you have no money?”
“What?” I quickly turn around and glare at my brother. “You’re joking,”
“Go and see if I’m a clown,” he threatens. “I know I said I’ll take care of your tuition and living expenses, but that is only if you stay away from New York City.”
“Samuel!”
“Just change your mind.”
“You’re forcing my hand by financially manipulating me?”
“ Money answereth all things . Bible—Ecclesiastes 10, verse 19.”
“Seriously? Would God smile at this display of bullying?”
“Maybe not, but He will at the fact that I’m doing everything in my power to protect you, your heart, and your mind.”
With that he gives me one last look, glances at my packed bags, and then he turns to leave.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he suddenly says. “You better maintain the story we’ve been telling all these years. You remember nothing about Emmett Easton’s mother.”
He gives me a pointed look.
Panic sets in my bones. I know what he means but I can’t help but start to feel the restless guilt I’ve felt for years awaken in me.
“And if he ever finds out?” I whisper, feeling the dread hovering over me.
“You better pray you’ll feel nothing for him by the time the war breaks out.”
With that, he leaves without addressing the shock his words just caused in me.
A war will break out if Emmett ever finds out that I remember?
My phone vibrates with a text.
Immediately, my heart starts pounding so fast, I start to feel slightly dizzy, but I shake my head and read the text again.
Melissa : This is so exciting! Father can’t wait to meet you! Here’s the address. See you soon!