Poison Ivy | Jordan Poole

four.

I thought that I was dreaming when you said you love me

The start of nothing, I had no chance to prepare

I couldn't see you coming

The start of nothing, ooh, I could hate you now

It's quite alright to hate me now

When we both know that deep down

Once when Ivy was small, her foster father had told her that Ivy was a weed. It grew and grew, enveloping and taking over everything it touched. A poisonous overgrowth that left no room for the beauty it encountered before it's violent conquering. Constantly climbing, it was the pest of flora and he likened Ivy to be the same. Always reaching and reaching when in his mind she was destined for nothing. She and her sister were the children of a drug addict and an absent businessman whose deeds were as prolific as his name.

They were only in his care for two months before they were bounced to another home. Those two months still marred her. When she'd gotten to a better home, she'd clung to Mrs. Green, a sixty-year-old woman with a countenance as sweet as her apple pie. She liked to think that Mrs. Green built her back up, showed her she was brilliant, worth it. Still, Mrs. Green couldn't manage them forever so when their mother returned, she'd held on even tighter to Elizabeth.

She pushed herself to prove that her foster father was wrong. Ivy was not a weed, it was evergreen. Truly, it was brilliant and enduring, adding a regal nature to everything it touched in its quiet ascension.

Ivy filed away some documents as she packed up for the day. Each afternoon she considered her job to be more and more of a necessity than a pleasure. She and Darius had made this their joint dream and numbers came easy to her, so she'd thought it was right. However, she was growing to resent it. Her occupation was just another remnant of him, the plan they'd drafted mainly with his pen.

She'd been stupid.

Her options were not non-existent though, she had double majored in Accounting and Graphic Design. In fact, she'd been fielding job openings in the latter.

"Earth to Ivy."

London Carter was snapping her perfectly manicured fingers in her face to bring her back to reality.

"Hey sorry, I kind of zoned out for a bit."

London frowned before she sat down and levelled with her friend. Ivy always admired London's beauty; her skin seemed to glow with a virtually non-existent skin care routine. Her routinely blown out hair was always lush and voluminous, falling in effortless waves around her face and her wardrobe was to die for. Some girls just had it, and London was one of them.

"Girl you've been doing that a lot lately. Anyway, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I just had to turn a very angry black man that was looking for you around."

Quirking her eyebrow, Ivy urged London to go on.

"Your ex, Damian, Desmond... what was his name again?"

"Darius" Ivy replied simply "He was here?"

"Yup I just said that love. He demanded to see you. I told him you were out of office today, but he didn't seem to buy it."

Ivy didn't have energy to even give to the thought of seeing Darius now. Before her mind had begun to swim, she'd been texting Jordan back and forth. He'd asked about where she'd grown up and that had triggered her spiral into the past.

"Well, if he's gone, I'm not dealing with Darius today."

"As you shouldn't, he's in the past for a reason. Now please, deal with me."