Rejection, by Poet on the Run
Summary: She shouldn't have been surprised when he fell in love with Angelina. They were both great musicians, after all. But… she just couldn't help feeling… rejected. JONAS; NACY; PHM Challenge #1/2
"Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love." – Jane Austen
What if instead of Joe, Nick had had the crush on Angelina in "That Ding That You Do"?
I
(not just a crush)
Macy was standing in front of her locker when Stella found her. School had ended an hour ago and the girl had not moved an inch. Yet, as the blonde approached, she was able to see the girl slump forward, head connecting with the metal in a dull, gentle thump that didn't quite cover a mournful sigh.
She mumbled something incoherent and shook her head a little, as though to clear away unwanted thoughts. Though Stella couldn't understand what her friend had said, she was sure she heard the words 'stupid,' 'cello,' and 'bet.' At the last one, her ears turned pink and she reached for the other girl.
"Mace?" she said softly, gripping her shoulder. The girl turned and Stella saw that her eyes were puffy and red. Her opinion of herself, already low for the way Macy had reacted to her teasing earlier, now plummeted to the depths of no return. "Oh, Macy…"
The brunette leaned back when Stella went to hug her, hurt clear in her still-wet eyes. Though she let her friend wrap her arms around her, she did not relax. She knew the blonde could feel it, but she didn't care much at the moment.
"You knew." It was not a question.
Stella stiffened, but continued to hug her friend. "No. Not really. I thought… I mean, I suspected… but I didn't know."
Macy relaxed then, able to forgive her friend for not knowing. Innocent teasing was something she could forgive. But if Stella had known and still proceeded to put her in the spot, to grind in the fact that she never had a chance, to gloat and grin while she stammered and forgot how to breathe… that, she couldn't have forgiven. Ever.
"Why?"
One of the best things about having a best friend is that one doesn't need to explain the word 'why.' A best friend not only knows 'why,' but also which 'why' is being asked and will answer the 'why' that needs to be asked, regardless of which 'why' is presented and/or which answer one wants to hear.
"Because I didn't realize you would react the way you did," Stella said. "And because I thought that pointing it out might bring out your competitiveness. Also, sometimes he just can't take 'no' for an answer. And he thinks that what he wants is some musical bimbo who can't get over herself. And he can't see past the fan girl to the real you, Mace."
The best thing about Stella was that she also knew when Macy was asking a whole bunch of 'whys' at once.
The brunette nodded her head, finding all of these answers believable, if not pleasant. She sniffled and leaned into her friend's embrace, feeling more tears pricking at her eyes.
"I…" Macy's voice broke on the word and she had to swallow and start again. "I'm such an idiot. I let myself get so upset… over what? A crush?"
His or yours? Stella found herself asking. She blinked and wrinkled her nose, a little ashamed of that thought. She gave Macy a squeeze, a gesture of her support, no matter how 'trivial' the matter might seem.
And then a thought struck her.
"It's not just a crush, is it, Mace?"
The question seemed to hit her friend hard, because she sucked in a great deal of air. She was stiff and silent for the longest twenty seconds of either of their lives. Finally, Macy let out a shaky breath and shook her head, trying to burrow deeper into Stella's shoulder.
"I love him, Stell," she murmured. It was a wonder she wasn't in tears again, but that may have just been because she'd run out. "Not just as a member of JONAS. I love him."
"So…" she said. She leaned back a bit and brushed hair out of the girl's face, wanting to get a look at her expression. Still hopeless and glum, but there was a chance that she could change that. Taking another look at the girl's red nose and puffy eyes, she did some mental calculations.
It would require a large bucket of ice cream, at least two showings of Noises Off (with personal Stella Malone commentary through one, if not both), three comedy DVDs and a promise to (gulp) do something sporty the coming weekend. At least one of these things would be difficult to provide, and she wasn't looking forward to offering it.
But there wasn't anything to decide, really. It was Macy.
"Why don't you come over tonight?" Stella said. "It's been a while. It'll just be you and me." She put on a pouty face, just in case the brunette wasn't convinced. "Popcorn, ice cream, funny movies…"
No questions asked, no explanations needed, and absolutely nothing JONAS related—unless you want there to be.
Macy must have known what to read into her friend's words, because a small smile spread across her face, replacing the frown.
"Okay," she agreed.
Stella led her out of the deserted hallway, now determined to do anything and everything in her power to make the girl laugh. They would never know about the wide-eyed figure that walked around the corner as soon as they were out of sight.
II
(remember)
As it turned out, Macy did have tears left to shed—but these were thankfully surrendered in the name of comedy rather than heartbreak. Sure, there were times when she got a little teary about… other things. But they didn't last too long.
In truth, Macy didn't remember much about that Friday night. Things stood out, but they didn't seem to be categorized by importance, significance, or chronology.
She remembered ordering a pizza, but didn't remember eating it. But there was an empty box leaning on Stella's wastebasket the next morning, so she supposed that it had been devoured with as much fervor as the popcorn and ice cream. (She also remembered breaking down at one point while waiting for the delivery, only able to choke out one word for a very worried Stella: "Maria.")
She remembered putting in movies and changing out discs, and laughing at Stella's constant stream of critique, ranging from clothing to intelligence to romantic entanglements, but the movies themselves were a mystery. She knew that there was a girl that had worn an outfit so pink that even Stella had had to put her foot down, but the other details evaded her and she would probably never remember what movie it was from. (She also cried again shortly after that for a reason she refused to explain, but Macy never remembered and Stella wasn't about to tell her.)
She remembered talking for hours about nothing at all and watching as Stella finished making a jacket as a gift for her mother.
She remembered attempting to knit and finding she liked it. She also remembered being utterly confused by Stella's crochet hooks.
She remembered dancing and lip-synching and laughing and playing twenty questions.
She remembered crying.
And screaming.
And Stella wrapping her up in a hug.
And Stella crying and screaming with her, sharing the pain like only the best of best friends can.
She didn't remember falling asleep, but she remembered waking up and being unable to remember why she'd been unhappy for a few glorious moments.
And that, she thought, was the best part of it all.
III
(not enough pride)
It was even harder than Macy realized not to talk about them. She had known that it would be difficult—they were sometimes the only reason she dragged herself out of bed in the morning. But when she saw what was happening, saw her doom unfolding, there was nothing she could do about it. And that made it even harder. She couldn't even confide the truth in her best friend, all because of some stupid bet that she was too prideful to lose.
So here's where it starts getting serious: she had too much pride to lessen her own pain, but not enough to chance causing any for him. Yes, you heard right. She wasn't willing to break down and tell Stella exactly what was going on—her frightening feelings and his whirlwind efforts for Angelina and how her world was falling apart at the seams.
But the second he turned to her (unwillingly, maybe, but he was still counting on her to say something!), wanting her to explain what a normal, average guy he was, she only hesitated for a second. And that hesitation was spent thinking about what to say, not about whether to say it.
Admittedly, her delivery could have been a bit… well, better. Her voice really shouldn't have been shaking and she probably needed to work on eye contact, but she got the point across. She hoped.
"Macy," Stella said, sounding far too cheerful after their brief little spat. She gestured toward Angelina, smiling in that way that only Stella can smile when she's being evil. "Why don't you tell her?"
There was no way that she could have known the damage she caused. Stella wasn't that cruel. But it didn't change the fact that Macy's heart heaved in her chest, the crack down the middle forging itself ever deeper.
"I…" She hesitated, eyes flicking between the three people in front of her. Traitorous organs that they were, they began to well up with tears and she had to squeeze them shut for a moment. Jerkily, she took Stella's phone out of her purse and handed it to her. She turned to Angelina and looked at the girls shoes, unwilling to stare for too long at her pretty face.
"Nick is an amazing guy. He's talented and funny and he's really not much of a rock star at all—but only because he never acts like it." Her eyes flashed to his face for a moment to catch his expression (shock and a bit of embarrassed pleasure), before they returned to the annoyingly ugly black flats of the cello player. "I can't tell you that he's average, because he's not. He's better than average."
They were all silent for a moment, until Macy realized what she had just said. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she stared at the stunned faces of her two friends. "I've got to go," she gasped before bolting down the hall.
IV
(rejection)
It's hard not to hurt a little when your heart's been torn in two. Macy knew that and she accepted it (how else would she have survived Penny and Maria and the other two that he had somehow managed to keep a secret from his brothers?). But… she was just getting tired of the feeling.
She was tired of losing a game that she wasn't even playing.
She was tired of having to get over it when there wasn't really anything to get over.
How did this happen over and over, anyway?
After all, a person should only be able to bleed so much before they don't have any blood left, right?
(Wrong.)
When she walked into school on Monday, she was expecting to feel upset. The weekend with Stella had helped, but there was only so much that ice cream, funny movies, and jogging could do. So she painted on a smile, told herself that the world was still spinning and she had to keep up, whether she wanted to or not.
She went to her locker—the very same one that she had traded, bribed and lied for when she found out where JONAS had chosen theirs. Now, although she couldn't truly regret the decision, she wondered if it would be easier to open her lock if she weren't also trying to listen to the conversation between Nick and—ugh—Angelina.
"Look, I guess what I'm trying to say is… will you give me another chance?" the boy asked hopefully. Though Macy wasn't looking at him, she could imagine the look on his face. Eager eyes, mouth simply waiting for a reason to smile, looking so adorable that there was no way a girl could answer him with anything but—
"No, Nick," said Angelina.
Macy's head whipped around, all pretense of opening her locker dropped. She stared, unable to believe what she had heard. Nick was facing away from her, but the cello player wasn't. Her face seemed earnest enough… but she was turning him down.
"I'm sorry," the girl continued. "But I just don't feel that way about you, even if you really are a normal guy." Her gaze shifted ever so slightly, so slightly that Nick never noticed, and suddenly she was staring directly at Macy. "Don't you think it would be unfair if I led you on when there was another girl out there who really cared about you; who could really make you happy?"
The young Lucas seemed to debilitate for a moment, as if this was a point that could be argued, before he finally sighed. "I guess you're right."
"I'm sorry," Angelina said again, reaching out and gripping his shoulder once. She picked up her cello easily and walked past him, toward Macy, and of course he watched her leave.
What happened next shocked Macy to the core.
A small, sly smile played on Angelina's lips as she approached Macy's locker. She stopped and set her cello down. "You're Macy, right?"
"Yeah," said the shorter brunette.
"Sorry for randomly stopping you like this—I just wanted to know what you use to style your hair," confessed the other girl. "I can never get mine to fall in the right shape like yours does."
"I just… blow-dry it," Macy said slowly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nick looking at them with interest. What was going on?!
"Really?" Angelina gave her a rueful smile. "I guess I'll have to go someplace else for advice. Thanks, though."
Just before she left, the taller girl gave Macy a wink and nodded in Nick's direction.
Of course the smaller brunette glanced at him. And of course he caught her glancing his way. So of course she blushed and turned her eyes on they floor.
Even after she turned around, she could still feel the youngest JONAS's curious eyes on her.
Maybe, she thought as she finally managed to open her locker. Maybe rejection isn't so bad after all.
FIN
(muahaha)
a/n: So, this is really long. I don't know whether to apologize or cheer. My brother hates me now, because it took me about five hours to write, and I did it on the family computer.
Just so y'all are aware:
1. Yes, I intend to use this for BOTH of the challenges. Sorry, suburbs. I had wanted to do two separate things, but they kind of melded together. Do I still get points? :D
2. The 'wide-eyed' figure in part I was Angelina, if her behavior in part IV wasn't enough of a clue.
Don't worry about the second chapter of Seven Times Better; it's on the way! I've finished writing it, so I've just got to type it up and revise. Be on the lookout!
Oh! And how about a review? :D
Much love,
Beth