From the Rejector [c.h.]

In most romance novels, the chapters are told in the cliche view of the girl being let down by her crush, the boy. The rejectee (girl) gets rejected by the rejector (boy). Keeping this is mind, the boy is a side character and the girl finds another boy who is, supposedly, her true love.
But there are two sides to every story.
This is the rejector's.

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2. CH. 1 - ASSHOLE

First thing I'd like to say is:

I'm not an asshole.

Now, hear me out on this. I was put in an awkward position. Yes, I lost friends because of this, but that's purely based on the fact that they were shitty friends who didn't let me explain. But I'm explaining to you because you're the only one who'll listen (ignoring the significance that you don't know me, and I don't know you, but just go with it).

In most romance novels, the chapters are told in the cliche view of the girl (protagonist) being let down by her crush, the boy (antagonist??). The rejectee (girl) gets rejected by the rejector (boy). Keeping this is mind, the boy is a side character and the girl finds another boy who is, supposedly, her true love.

Side note: Somehow, the girl's long-lasting love of the boy just disappears? What the hell, authors?? No grieving or crying from the protagonist? It's just find-a-new-boy-and-unrealistically-forget-the-other-boy-existed?

But there are two sides to every story.

This is mine:

End of junior year, early June. Ear-splitting cheering. Joyous, bright screaming from both students and teachers to celebrate the last day of school. And the time for the juniors to look forward to senior year and get the hell outta dodge.

"No, mom, you don't have to pick me up," I mumbled into the phone, passing through the parking lot to get to my Jeep. "I have a car now, remember? After I got my driver's license four months ago."

"Are you sure you don't need Mali to pick you up? Her university doesn't start summer music courses until next month," my mom, bless her heart, said in genuine concern, like I was still her baby boy that had yet to grow up. I admit it, I was a huge mama's boy.

"I'm sure, mom," I nodded, although no one was there. "I'll see you in an hour. You know it's a long drive."

After our farewells, I hung up the phone and stood in front of my car, looking up to see the sweet smile of Lilith Rose. (I know, super flora-esque name. I thought it was the name of a garden shop at first.) What was she doing here? We had only spoken a few times throughout the year, but very briefly.

Not to brag or anything, but I go to an art school that consists of the conservatories dance, music, drama, visual art, and creative writing. The creative writing group is the smallest, seeing as Sydney had almost no uprising Shakespeares or Hemingways coming in (although, we did have a Hemmings). Creative writing was, incidentally, my conservatory. My major. The one passion I specialized most in.

Art school was the best. Three academic classes a day, and the rest is just working on whatever conservatory you had. The day officially started at 8AM and ran until 5PM. Our school had long days, yes, but I was doing what I love for the majority of it.

Anyways, I'm getting off track.

Lilith was a dance major. I did creative writing. She was a popular extrovert. I was a shy introvert. We came from two different worlds. And as you can see, we were not alike in the slightest, therefore had no need to socialize. Well, correction: I had no need to socialize.

"Oh, hey, Lilith," I greeted her calmly. "What's up?"

She shrugged. "Nothin'. School ended, thank God."

"Yeah, we're gonna be seniors next year. Crazy."

"To think," she nodded. "So, you know, I've kind of always liked you."

Raising a curious eyebrow, my thumb brushed over the unlock button on my car keys, but I didn't press down because it'd be extremely rude in my mind.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she nodded again. "And I was wondering if I could get your number. Go on a date sometime?"

Lilith was a nice girl. Popular, but sweet. She had always been nice to everyone and stayed out of the drama her friends caught in. She was the picture-perfect girl everyone loved... But she wasn't my type. And I didn't want perfect. I knew in my mind that, even if I tried, I would develop no utter feelings whatsoever to Lilith.

"I'm sorry, Lilith," I said with honesty in my voice. I knew the guts it took to ask someone out - hell, I had known Lilith ever since freshman year, and just now she asked me out. I felt guilty. "But I just don't think it'll work out."

"Oh.." she lowered her head a bit in defeat. "Right, okay.. Have a nice summer, Calum."

Just as she was about to walk away and the deed was done, Ashton, one of the most ignorant, high-and-mighty jocks, came up to Lilith and asked, "Lil, is this guy bothering you?"

Yes, despite it being an amazing art school, there were still cliques and high school cliches.

"No, Ash," Lilith weeped, making it clear that she was not okay. Her thumb brushed over the corner of her eye to wipe a tear as she spoke weakly, "Calum just rejected me. Whatever though, right?"

Ashton spoke up, "You screwed with her or something?"

"Well, no, she-"

"Because Lilith, an absolute innocent angel, is crying because of you," he spoke firmly and roughly at me.

"I swear, man, I don't want trouble, I just tried to let her down easy-"

And then his fist met my cheek, throwing a hard punch at me.

I punched back too, and although I don't regret it, I sure as hell do wish I got to my car faster.

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