IVY #2
Brushing my hair off my face, I sigh as I try to wrap my head around what the hell actually just happened, but there’s no deciphering it right now. Instead, I try to catch my breath. It takes a moment, but I finally manage to get to my feet, stumbling to the bathroom, where I turn on the shower.
As the water heats, I brush my teeth and wash my face before stepping under the spray and letting the water consume me.
I consider curling up in a ball, but there’s just enough strength in my limbs to power me through. The sweet scent of my body wash fills the air as my thoughts twist, uncertainty taking root.
I'm torn.
Do I want to be woken up and played with like that? Absolutely.
Should it be one of my mates who that happens with? I don't know.
I don't want to give mixed signals, but all is not forgiven.
There’s something holding me back, and rightfully so.
Still, the pain lingers in my veins.
Does that mean I'm entitled to explore while remaining defensive?
The alternative is to explore with others, and my body shudders at the mere thought of it.
Everything is so new.
I don't know what the right answer is, but I can't deny how much I like it.
I don’t feel any better as I shut off the water. Reaching for a towel, I wrap it around my waist with a sigh when I hear the door click shut.
Shaking the concern from my bones, I hurry out of the bathroom with a smile.
“Hey, that was quicker than—”
My steps falter as I freeze in my doorway, gaping at what rests on my bed.
This time, there's no foreign object among the sheets, no ivy or an envelope, but a person.
“Ivy.”
I peer at my mother as a chill runs through my veins.
Her hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail.
I didn't know this woman knew what a hair tie was.
Her hair has always fallen perfectly in waves around her shoulders.
Her makeup is much more minimal than usual, while still teetering on glamorous, but it's her choice of clothing that catches me by surprise.
Instead of the designer dresses and pristine suits, she's in a simple pair of jeans and a sweater.
I don't know what's going on, but this is not a version of my mother I'm familiar with.
Silently, I berate myself for assessing someone in a manner that I hate myself, and instead try to focus on the fact that she’s here right now.
I don't know which fact brings more disbelief.
Regardless, my stomach knots, a mixture of fear and concern taking control of me as she tsks.
“Don't slouch, Ivy,” she commands, and my back snaps straight in an instant. “And those lines on your face will turn to wrinkles if you don't put your face straight,” she grunts, making my chest tighten at her familiar criticism.
Tightening my arms around my middle, holding my towel in place, I try to let her words brush over me, but it’s hard to brush off familiar wounds.
“What are you doing here?”
Tension ripples through the air, mostly oozing from my mother as she adjusts her position on the bed, attempting to remain poised as she slips one leg over the other.
Desperate for a little bit of distance between us, I shuffle around her to hover near the window, and her eyes widen.
“Drawn to the sun, I see,” she states, and my eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“What does that mean?”
She shrugs. “As a phoenix, I thought you would know.”
Irritation vibrates through my body as my defenses rise. “That would require someone telling me,” I retort, and she sniffs dismissively, waving her hand as she looks anywhere but at me.
“Phoenixes are drawn to the sun. The natural heat energizes them.”
That explains a lot.
“Anything else worth noting?” I ask, and she cocks her head at me, her eyes finally returning to mine.
“That depends on what your intentions are,” she states, making my spine stiffen even more.
"Sorry?”
She purses her lips as she stands, brushing invisible lint from her thighs. “Being a phoenix comes with power and control. What do you plan to do with it?” she pushes, and I gulp.
“Nothing,” I confirm, and she scoffs, her eyes crinkling.
“I don't believe you.”
“I don't really care what you think or believe,” I push back, and her eyes darken as her smirk turns to a sneer.
“There's that phoenix ego,” she muses, but tension still ripples between us as she slowly starts to pace back and forth along the bottom of my bed. “My mother was a phoenix, hers before her, and before her,” she explains, sending my heart rate skyrocketing.
“Why have I never met them?” I blurt, unsure why that's the first question that comes to mind, but she shrugs, her nose tilting up an extra inch as she glares at me.
“They threatened my power.”
My stomach drops, my insides turning into ice. “What did you do to them?” I breathe, and she snickers, waving me off.
“Well, they're not dead, they’re phoenixes,” she states, and my fingers tighten around the fabric of my towel.
“What did you—”
“Whatever I wanted. Don't interrupt me,” she snarls as I gape at her.
She's unhinged as hell.
“Where have you been?” I ask, eager for any information she might offer, and it feels like there are more pressing matters than ancestors I know nothing about.
“You're asking too much,” she retorts, and I scoff, irritation pulsing through my body.
“I haven't even begun. I—”
My dorm room door swings open, and Sax appears with stacks of food boxes in his hands, all of which almost fall from his grasp as he gapes at the woman before me.
I sense her panic as she brushes past me, darting for the window, but I'm rooted to the spot as a pile of clothes forms beside me. A burst of yellow, red, and orange shatters through the glass, leaving Sax and me staring at the jagged hole.
Sax clears his throat, finding the ability to speak first. “Did she just—”
I nod, clearing my throat. “Yes.”
“Was that—”
“My mother?” I interject, and he nods, jaw slack as he glances from me to the shattered window and back again.
“A phoenix?” he clarifies, and I hum, my heart sinking to the pit of my stomach.
“A phoenix.”