Rejected

Chapter 2

Mitch's P.O.V
----------------

I heard a knock at the door.

Please be Kirstie. Please be Kirstie. Please be Kirstie.

I opened the door.

Scott.

"Well, hello there," he said. "Hi," I said through clenched teeth.

He walked in and sat down on my couch. "We'll wait for Kirstie," I told him. He nodded, "Where's your bathroom?"

"It's upstairs. The third door on the left," I said hesitantly. I didn't really want him up there. He could find everything. All of my pretty little lies and secrets. Another knock on the door. "Kirstie! Thank goodness you're here! Scott's upstairs... I'll go check on him."

I ran up the stairs. I opened my door and saw Scott looking in my drawers. "Hey! What are you doing?" He turned around, "I need to talk to you later." I nodded nervously.

We walked down the stairs together. "Okay let's get this over with," Kirstie said. "What song should we do?" I thought about that one. "How about we all think about it and tell each other tomorrow, considering we'll have to meet here everyday. We can work on harmonies today," I said. They both agreed.

~

"Mitch-" Scott started.

"I don't want to hear what you're going to say."

"I was gonna say that you're an amazing singer."

I blushed and looked at my feet.

Kirstie stood up and gave us a round of applause. "That was the nicest you've ever been to Mitch. Yay!"

We stood up and walked to the door. We've had enough practice for one day. I gave Kirstie a hug and kissed her cheek. "Bye Mitchie!" I laughed at her enthusiasm, "Bye KK!" She left and it was me and Scott alone. "Bye Scott," I said.

He raised his eyebrows, "Do you think I forgot about our little talk? Come upstairs with me." He held out his hand and I ignored him. "Mitch." I turned around and started walking away. "Mitchell." Keep walking. "Mitch!" He caught up with me and lifted me off the ground.

"You're coming whether you like it or not." I tried to get out of his grip, "Let me go!" He shook his head, "Nope." We reached my room and he set me down on my bed. He opened my bathroom cabinet. He slowly walked over to me with something bright orange in his hand.

"Depression pills?"

"Well what do you expect?"

"Not this."

"Well thank yourself because it's your fault I'm like this," I whispered. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Mitch. I really am."

I laughed sarcastically, "No you're not. You and your friends do this for fun and I'm your test subject." He sat down next to me.

"They aren't my friends, Mitch. I'm just scared to admit it."

He wrapped his arms around me. "Hey, maybe at school I can't act all innocent and sweet. But, at least out of school, can we try to be friends? I'll do anything." I fell back onto my bed, "I don't know, Scott."

He laid down next to me. "Oh, come on! We actually got along today!"

I turned to face him. "I guess. Alright, fine. We can try, at least." He smiled, "Just because I act like an asshole at school doesn't mean I actually am one."

I frowned. I pulled up my shirt. "I don't know Scott. See these bruises and scars? You did these." He ran his fingers over the bruises and I hissed in pain. "Sorry," he said.

I scoffed. "I changed my mind. I don't think we can be real friends. You have all your other friends anyways." He looked at me with big eyes. "Please?" I shook my head, "Sorry."

He got up and walked out of the room.