One mate and a Rejection novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Emeralds POV

I exited the washroom, only to come face to face with the one and only.

"Emerald, hi."

"Hey, Jared," I answered, fighting the sudden compulsion to throw myself into his arms and cry. A couple that was so in love seemed to drift so far away, as if strangers to each other. "Look, I'm sorry about what Friday, I—I didn't know that was gonna happen," he rushed out, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"I know," I said, instead," and I forgive you."

"No you don't. Emerald, come on. Why are we talking like we don't know each other?" I remained silent, letting him speak.

"I've known you for thirteen years! We know each other like we know ourselves! Probably more! Don't let this tear us apart!"

I looked at him for a moment," How do you expect me to act?" I asked.

"Emer—" he began, but I cut him off.

"You told me if your mate wasn't me, you would reject her! But what did you do?" "Do you," he muttered, swallowing," do you hate me?"

I felt my eyes watering again and let out a humorless chuckle,I hate how much I still love you, does that count."

We heard a sudden bang and turned around.

The locker a few meters away was smashed in badly.

And Blade Russell was there, looking angry enough to kill somebody.

He stared at us for a moment before spinning around and walking out of the school. Jared and I turned back to each other," what does this mean for us, Emmy?"

"Don't call me that, not anymore," I pushed him aside and turned to leave.

My chest was a practical drum set as I walked into third period after the talk Jared and I had. The bell hasn't rung yet but a few people sat at their desks, reading their projects due for today. I remembered with sudden panic that Jared was my partner and sigh.

My heart began to beat even faster.

"Good Afternoon class!" said a slightly accented female voice.

Today, it was a dress from the eighteenth century and a long green pendant that glowed between her breasts.

Her curly, orange hair was tied at the top of her head in a tight knot that looked like it hurt. "Good afternoon Mrs. Spencer," we all replied, less enthusiastically.

I let my eyes casually drift to the front where Jasmine and Jared sat side by side, holding hands beneath the table.

"Alright class, today you will be acting out the scenes that you wrote with your partners," she said. Some booed, others cheered.

Me? I felt as if I was ready to shoot myself.

"But," continued the teacher," you'll be acting out someone else's project and not your own. That way I will be able to mark you on acting in a scene you aren't familiar."

I looked around the classroom in fear.

Who would Jared and I get? Stacy? She seemed like the type to write about things like romance. Or maybe Evan, he loved drama class.

And with a sudden horror—filled thought, my eyes fell on Romania.

All she did was gush about love. She dreamed about finding her soul—mate and becoming an author. She was clearly the best student in this class.

I shut my eyes tight and prayed that her assignment wouldn't be assigned to us. After the first group finished the performance, I became more nervous.