Rejected At First Sight

Chapter Seventeen

Relief floods me as I walk in. This feels so normal and I feel so much better being here. My energetic steps echo through the hallway, along with all the other students, as I head for history class. As I walk, I glance around to see if I can find Josh. I see my classroom coming up and I slow down a bit for a last chance to find Josh.

No such luck. Hopefully he's here today. I give up my search and, hoping to see him in class, I finish my walk to class.

I walk into history class and stop in my tracks. Ashton is already sitting at our table, scribbling madly on a piece of notebook paper. He is never there before me.

I look around the room trying to find a teacher, assuming Ashton is forced to be here for detention or something, but there's no one else in the room. It was normal for me to be the first one in this room with a little time to spare before everyone came to class.

Ashton's head snaps up in my direction. I quickly duck my head so I don't have to look at him. My steps aren't as energetic as they were when I entered the building. I slowly make my way over to our table. I can still feel his eyes on me.

His eyes are still on me as I reach my side of the table and put down my backpack on the floor. I sit back up and place my mug in front of me, too nervous to take a sip of my coffee.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him focusing again on whatever he was writing. I relax a little in my chair and take a sip of my coffee. Silence settles over us, with the only noise coming from the noisy students in the hallway. I reach down to open my backpack and take the stuff I need for this class. I feel my sweater inch up on my side and I quickly try to pull it down. The bruises still haven't completely disappeared. But before I do, I hear a low, threatening growl coming from my left.

I immediately freeze, that didn't even sound human. Still in the same position, leaning down to open my backpack, I glance over to Ashton.

His body is tense, shaking almost, like he's about to snap. His knuckles are white from holding his pencil so hard. I look back to his face. His eyes are shut tight and I can hear breathing is ragged. His jaw is clenched tight.

The pencil snaps and I jump at the sharp noise. Ashton's hand slowly opens and drops the now broken pencil on the table. I gape at the broken mechanical pencil, who's that strong to break a mechanical pencil?

I glance warily back at Ashton who seems to have calmed down a tiny bit. He takes a deep breathe and mumbles something under his breath. Ashton's eyes open and they meet my wide ones.

Concern is etched across his face and his eyes are full of worry. My brain is scrambling as to why he would be concerned and worried, I'm the only one here. I realize, suddenly, that I am still reaching for my stuff in my backpack and my side is still on display. I quickly yank my sweater down so the bruises disappear underneath my sweater.

Ashton's eyes harden at my movement, but he doesn't do anything other than look at me again after glancing down to my side.

The door to the classroom opens and a few students walk in. I glance at the clock and am shocked to see that class starts in only a few minutes. The door opens again and more people come in. These students come directly over to Ashton and I's table. I quickly straighten back up into a normal sitting position.

"Hey man, where were you this morning?" A guy asks Ashton.

I block out their conversation because, frankly, I don't give a crap about him or his friends. Instead, I accidentally make eye contact with one of the girls. I look at her brown eyes, small nose, pink lips and long brown hair, and surprisingly, I recognize her. She was one of the girls who, on my first day, shoved me in the hall. I frown at her.