Rejection Stings

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**Please like and Comment! Neither person knew they would be at the same school. Everyone is over 18. Let the scandal ensue...Will contain violence and dark subjects related to Mafia activity.**

I will be updating every week, any comments are always greatly appreciated!

This is my second book on Wattpad and my fourth overall, so don't worry about me vanishing. Buckle up and enjoy the story!

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"I'm pregnant."

The confession hung in the air between us, and he stared at me from behind his teaching desk coldly, the papers he had been marking forgotten.

"So?" He asked me plainly, his annoyance tangible. I opened my mouth and shut it again, surprised he cared so little. He had spent the last month ignoring me, tormenting me if anything, every time I had a class with him. I knew he regretted our night together, but he didn't have to be so hurtful about it.

"Well...what should I do?" I asked him, having anticipated anger, not just total disinterest. He sighed loudly, putting his red pen down with a sharp thud, and glared at me over his glasses, his attention fully on me at this point.

"Why don't you ask your mentally deficient boyfriend? Did your idiotic friends put you up to this? I really do not have time for this, Isabella. I have papers to grade CLEARLY and a life outside this school I would like to get to at some point. I am not your doctor or therapist, so get the fuck out." He snapped, waving dramatically to the door, dismissing me rudely.

I struggled to breathe, unsure of how to proceed. I had run through the possible outcomes of telling him a million times in my head, but none of them included him just acting like it wasn't his.

"I don't have a boyfriend. It's yours." I said softly, seeing the anger building up in him. He was very handsome with dark black hair, and even with the glasses that he wore occasionally, he had a sort of nerdy yet dark appeal to him. When he was angry, though, his eyes darkened and took on a murderous glare, and everyone avoided him, but I tried to stand my ground.

"You're a fucking idiot. I would never touch the likes of YOU. Get out of my office. NOW."

"It really is yours. I...I don't want to interrupt you. I just...I'm not keeping it, obviously. I need cash for an abortion." I stuttered desperately, holding back tears.

"Tuition here is sixty grand a year, and you're telling me you need five hundred dollars from me? Why don't you call up Daddy and ask him for some Starbucks money." He yelled, still not remembering me clearly. I had sat in his class every day for an entire month, and I was still a nobody to him.

"I'm here on a grant," I explained, trying to keep my composure, but my voice broke unsteadily. He looked at me with hatred, judgment, and condensation all at once, the soft, gentle way he had looked at me before entirely gone.

"Fine. You know what...I am behind on my charity contributions for the month." He said snarkily, taking out his wallet and unfolding the leather to reveal a crap ton of black cards and crisp hundred dollar bills.

"Get yourself something nice to eat when you're done slut." He said, throwing the cash at me like I was a stripper or something of the sort. I picked up the bills with shaking hands and nodded, leaving him quietly heartbroken.

I had no intention of killing my child, but I would make sure it would not end up like its father.

I walked through the halls of the boarding school I only had seven more months at, numb and unsure of what I would do. I couldn't let anyone else know I was pregnant. It would be such a shame, and I would undoubtedly be kicked out of the school.

I didn't know Mr. Grande was my teacher when I slept with him. He was a brand new teacher at our school, and I met him just days before the school year started while at a new club with my friends. He was just a random stranger to me until the first day of class when I realized I fucked up. He was a jerk to everyone, but especially me, so I assumed he remembered me.

Perhaps he was acting like he didn't remember me to avoid the shame that came with sleeping with a student. I had no idea. I took a year off school when I was little because I was sick, so my entire last year of school, I would be eighteen. What happened wasn't illegal but morally reprehensible? Sure.

I didn't even understand why he was teaching at our school anyway. That night we were together, he had his sleeves rolled up, and I saw his tattoos. Most were normal, but one on his forearm was of a wolf killing an eagle, the tattoo infamous for its connotation. He was part of the largest mafia in the states, one that ran so deep I had always suspected the government itself was part of it. The Grande mafia.

He should be out selling drugs and black mart items to rich people, killing people even. Not at a random boarding school with a bunch of rich, snobby teenagers.

"Hey, why are you crying?" Jasmine asked, running up to me from across the hall to catch up with me. She had gorgeous braids today with gold beads at the end, and she looked like an Egyptian goddess. I was painfully plain in comparison to her.

"Nothing. Mr. Grande just...ugh...that man. He's so insufferable. I have never met someone who was so determined to make people miserable." I yelled, wiping my eyes and walking quickly across the large, beautiful campus to my rooms before dark hit.

"Oh yeah, he's a grumpy one. Did you see that he assigned a ten-page paper on the possible ways to create gold? There are none, Isabella. Yet I'm supposed to write ten pages on nothing? It's insanity. I just need to get a C in his class anyway. Good luck to you. I think to keep your place at Berkley, you need an A in that class. Maybe just take it again next semester with a different teacher?" She offered helpfully, assuming I was just overwhelmed with the workload. My school did give way more work than the average high school, but the acceptance rate at Ivy League colleges was also in the 90s.

"I think I will just write you're a jerk a million times on my paper and turn that in. He's going to fail me anyways." I said as we walked into the dorms, ready to get my work done so I could get some sleep.

"I'm sure he will write you up for that, but a girl can dream, eh?" She said with a laugh, loving my idea. If there was one thing she liked, it was drama. She was my best friend until the end, but she couldn't keep a secret for the life of her.

"The boys are having a party in their dorm. Do you wanna go? Jason will be there." She said happily, envisioning her future with her almost-boyfriend already.

"No, I'm good, actually. I have so much to do, and I'm not in the mood really to hang out with anyone." I said, swinging my tattered bookbag down and taking out the insane number of texts and notes I had to go over.

"I don't think Stacy will be there if that helps." She offered, upset I wouldn't go with her, and gave me a pouty face. Stacy was a total bitch to me and made my life living hell. She wanted to get into Berkly and was waitlisted while I got accepted. She was always a jerk, but after she found out I got in, it was personal.

"I'm good, I promise," I said with a fake smile just so she would leave me alone. She nodded finally and changed out of her uniform into a skimpy set of clothes that would make more people blush.

"Now, I'm ready. Have fun, I guess!" She said, shaking her head at me and leaving me alone to study and wallow in my bad fortune.

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