Rejection

Too Quiet

 Some people are too quiet. Maybe quiet enough for people to talk about them.

 No one liked Edward. They said that he was too stuck up for his own good. He would walk in the hallways ignoring people, thinking that he was better than anybody else. At the start of each school year, some new kid would try to talk to him, to be that special someone to break his silence, but he never did speak. He would walk, with his hands in his pockets and his black hair covering his eyes, and he would never say a word. It had been said that he didn’t like the other students, for he gave disdainful looks to all, and so, no one wanted to know him.

  Jodie was new at school that year. Everyone liked her. She was funny, bubbly, and she had a dry sense of humor. She never offended anyone, unlike Edward, they would say, and everyone loved her. Jodie heard about Edward too, and she was discouraged from attempting to talk to him. It won’t work, they said. He thinks he’s too good for you. He will never reply.

  But Jodie was curious, for he wasn’t all that they made out to be. She had caught him giving the other students wistful looks as they laughed together at the lunch table, and she could almost see longing in them. But when he caught her staring, his eyes would harden, and he would look at her with contempt.

  More than once had Jodie been frightened by those looks, but she was still intrigued. Finally, she walked up to him one day, giving him a smile. He ignored her, and when she tried to stop him from leaving, he pushed her. Hard. She fell onto the ground, and he strode off, not even giving her a remorseful look. Everyone said, “I told you so.” And Jodie agreed with them. He was a horrible person, and he deserved to be called names.

  From then, Jodie would ignore him too. She never once looked at him again, and she didn’t give a damn about his life. In fact, she started ignoring everyone too. Everyone was mean. They were all just like Edward. Soon, no one liked Jodie. She had joined Edward in his loneliness.

  Jodie hated that.

  Her hate grew inwards and twisted her, changing her personality. She became irritable, grouchy, and more than once had she been put in detention. She blamed Edward, blamed him for causing her plight. It was all his fault. She would stage practical jokes, landing buckets of water on him, pushing him down the stairs, but he never said anything to anybody.

  Of course he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even look at her.

  She hated him more than that. She grew further away from everyone, rejecting their offers of friendship again.

  One day, she was cleaning the cafeteria floor when she heard the teachers come in for their regular meal. She rolled her eyes. They were a bunch of grandparents thinking they could change the students in this school, that they could give the students a bright future. It was wishful thinking. Look at Edward. She grimaced as they started talking, hating the fact that she had to listen. She scrubbed the floor harder, hoping to get out of detention as fast as she could until she heard something that they said.

  Her breath stopped. She dropped the scrubbing brush. No, no, no, she thought. No. She wanted to close her ears and run away, wanted them to stop talking, but she was rooted to the spot. Then she remembered him, and she ran.

  Jodie ran all the way to the class, just as Edward was about to open the door. He always came in the afternoon to pick up his bags. Jodie never knew why, but now she did.

  “No!” She yelled, pushing him away as yet another bucket of water splashed down on her.

  Edward stared at her with emotionless eyes as she stood there, dripping wet.

  “Why didn’t you say?” She demanded.

  Edward shrugged.

  “Why are you even here?” She asked. “Why did you want to come here?”

  Edward’s eyes hardened again, as they did so many months ago and he pushed past her into the classroom, snatching up the chalk.

  “Don’t you bother.” He wrote.

  “Edward,” She was crying.

  How could she have been so terrible?

  He didn’t hear her. Of course he couldn’t.

  She shook his shoulder. He turned around.

  “I’m sorry,” She mouthed, knowing that he could read the words.

  He smiled a little, his eyes glistening. He turned back to the board, and wrote with an unsteady hand:

  “I didn’t want to be different. I didn’t want to be rejected.”