CHP 4: Rejection

Gar was an ass at group the following Wednesday. Why, because when John asked us to summarize our experiences last week he shot up first, making a point to highlight my shitty personality. He wouldn't even talk to me, not until I confronted him.

"Why'd you tell everyone in group my personality sucks?"

"Because it does." He laughed, scarfing down the last bit of a blueberry muffin, heading out to his car. "Dude, I don't call girls bitches, but you acted like a bitch."

I barred my teeth, holding my tongue as I walked out behind him, screw him. I plopped down on a small brick ledge near the entrance. Dick would be out any second if John didn't hold him up. He usually kept him after for one reason or another. I overheard their conversation one time and he kept blabbering on about his leadership skills. I suppose he could be a leader if he wasn't so standoffish.

I watched him walk out, purposely failing to acknowledge me. Hitting the button on his keys, he hopped in the driver's seat, while I slid in the passengers. Not the bat of an eyelash in my direction, he made a damn good effort to pretend that he didn't give a fuck. I was sold. If my heart wasn't made of stone also, I might of cared... might of.

He revved the engine and I slammed the door shut when Gar drove up beside us, wearing lime green stunner shades, he stuck his head out the window and said, "Hey, Rache, I'm coming over to your house tonight."

Clearly he was delusional. From the look on his face I could tell my face read something along the lines of, who the hell do you think you are?

He flashed me a cheesy grin. "I know what your thinking," he said, "I don't want to come over, but I'm going to be busy at my dorm the rest of the week. We have to get this assignment thing over with, see ya tonight."

I responded cordially, with sign language of which he ignored, turning the bass up on his stereo, and speeding off so quickly his tires screeched and left skid marks.

"He seems... interesting." said Dick, glancing into his rear view mirror.

"Yeah." I grumbled, buckling my seat belt as we pulled out of the lot slowly. He turned the stereo up, playing some soft metal song. The whole ride was silent otherwise. I tried to put myself in the moment, but thoughts of my dad kept popping up every few seconds. I wondered what he'd say when he found out I got another university rejection letter. Every last school he forced me to apply to said no. I had a feeling they would.

I turned my attention toward the scenery as we passed by an outdoor mall and then an elementary school yard where kids were playing and screaming their heads off. I was so far out somewhere that I hardly recognized when Dick was talking to me.

"So, does your personality really suck?" he asked. I refused to respond so he dropped it, pulling into an empty shaded parking space at Vista del Mar, his apartment complex. He got out first, opening the door for me and we took the stairs, to his second floor apartment in silence.

He opened the door for me, ushering me in casually, and shutting the door softly behind me. The apartment was dark, like last time. All the blinds were shut and the lights off. It was a simple apartment, a two bedroom with plain white walls, no posters, tvs, or couches. The only real furniture was a mattress in each room, one in his room and another in his roommates.

I felt him grasp me firmly by the arms, before I had time to think, he was kissing me, pressing his body against me so hard I was stumbling backward toward his bedroom. His fingers began fiddling under my shirt. Leaning up against the bed, he yanked it off, while I undid his pants.

My hands slid into his boxers exploring, but I couldn't get the image of my dad out of my head. What would he say about my rejection letter? What about the fact that I couldn't get a job...

I gazed up at the ceiling wishing I could just fuck in peace. I just didn't want him in my head, reminding me that I'd never be able to succeed, making me feel like freak. I just wanted to fuck and forget about him.

I climbed off Dick, my eyes wandering around the room.

"What's wrong? Why'd you get off?"

"I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing."

"You wouldn't be thinking about it if it was nothing," he added, biting softly along my neck. I felt lost again in another planet when I felt his weight on top of me, his hands between my thighs, pushing them apart.

"Stop." I snapped, jerking away from him. I became quiet and my hands felt cold and numb. My hands brushed his and they felt cold also. "I should go now."

"Fine." He said, stretching. He rolled out of bed, bulging forearms rested on his bare thighs. Sitting still for a moment, he hung his head low as I eased out of the covers, searching for my underwear.


He let me out a few blocks away from my house, insisting on dropping me off closer, but I didn't want to listen to my dad.

When I started across the lawn, I noticed Gar's white car in the drive way.

"Do you know this guy Rachel?" he asked.

"Yes, unfortunately ." I responded. "We have this stupid group assignment to complete."

Gar ran his hands through his green mohawk, meeting my dad's menacing glare with a grin.

"Okay, come in, but let's try to be quick about this thing. Damn therapist is doing more harm than good, sending boys over to your house," He grumbled. "I'll be in my office."

"Nice guy, I like him."

"Shut up."

Tossing my stuff on the floor, I folded my arms, giving him a hateful glare. He only stared back, smirking.

"Let's get this thing over quickly kay, I got places to be."

"No one asked you to come over!" I growled.

"Dude, I gotta get through this group thing for uh le- for reasons. I have to so let's just put up with each other until it's all said and done then you never have to see my face again and I never have to see yours."

"Fine."

"Fine." He smirked, bouncing his eyebrows. "So come on already, get with it, give me the tour."

I growled under my breath, clenching my fists as I passed from room to room mumbling. Gar trailed behind me stopping to applaud every time I quit talking.

I put Gar out of my head long enough to remember my real problem, dad. He was bound to say something about the letter.

We stopped in front of my bedroom so I could change and I told the fucktard to wait outside and I'd be back.

He laughed as I went into the room saying, "Don't bother changing, I noticed the smell of gizz the moment you showed up, tell me, was it really that good?" in a loud and obnoxious whisper. Did he even care that my dad was in the next room, idiot.

Flipping him off and kicking the door shut, I slid off my pants and underwear pulling on some shorts and a baggy tee instead. I met him back outside, but he was gone. I noticed the light on in the bathroom and figured he was in there.

I stood out in the hall waiting, but a booming voice came out from my dad's office and I knew I was in trouble.

"Rachel!" he shouted.

I walked in as casually as possible to find him sitting at his desk with his back to me.

"Another rejection letter, were you trying to hide it from me?"

"I applied, I tried to get in, they don't want me."

"Of course not, trying doesn't erase a criminal record. Everywhere you go all anyone will ever see is your fucking felony."

He pounded a fist on the desk, knocking over a bottle of Budweiser.

"I can't take care of you anymore. I don't want to deal with a felon anymore than the rest of the world does."

"You shouldn't have adopted me."

He grew silent.

"Grow the hell up, you're nineteen now, not ten." He chucked a letter over the back of his shoulder. "That's for you."

The address read: California State Correctional Facility. I stared at it like it was poison. Letter in hand, I let myself out, finding Gar out in the hallway waiting. He had to of heard everything. I hated my dad. He couldn't have just saved this for another day when we didn't have company.

Gar greeted me with an innocent half smile. I waited for him to say something, but he didn't. Instead, he fidgeted with his fingers and scratched the back of his neck.

"Uh um, it's getting late and I'm getting kinda hungry, you mind-"

"Do I mind what?" I eyed him suspiciously.

"Come on," he tugged my arm, "Let's get out of here and get some grub."