"Don't make someone a priority in your life, if your only a option in theirs..."
Yes, you were one of those girls, the type of girl people thought were a freak and outcast. Sure you were beautiful, in fact, cheerleader pretty but just having looks doesn't make you popular especially when you were so... Different.
You refused to be mainstream, to fall into the trap that popular people continued to set up; domination was their specialty. The cheerleaders would laugh at you, always making fun of you, the jocks would sneer at you; "I wouldn't ever be caught dead around her, she's just so...freaking weird" this was a common thing you heard people say behind your back. You were ok with it, you knew your place and they knew theirs, after a while the comments and names just stopped effecting you. They were nothing more than words, words that you didn't ever let, get to you; after all they were just people, people who didn't mean a lot to you in your life. You had never taken peer pressure seriously, you were confident and happy with who you were, even if others didn't approve , but some times, you just wished it wasn't so lonely. Maybe just maybe, somebody would want to talk to you but for now...
"Nice outfit, reject, oh I just love it" the one extremely , pretty girl, purred at you sarcastically as you walked by, making you roll your eyes, 'Like I haven't heard that before' you thought to yourself.
"Yeah, it's just so stylish, don't you think, Amy?" the black haired girl next to her asked, giggling cruelly but you didn't stick around to hear her answer, you wouldn't entertain them. You pushed the door of the bathroom of your school open, walking with your head down inside. You caught you reflecting in the bathrooms mirror, you stopped for a moment. You had (h/c) hair, pulled in too a design that you had you had always loved on you, your (e/c) eyes, the type of eyes that had more hiding in them that anybody could ever understand or comprehend and finally an outfit that not only expressed you but was also to a an extent, a definition of your personality.
You were walking up the drive of your house, two large bags of groceries in either one of your hands; your mother had asked you to pick up a few things for her 'like this is a few' you thought to yourself. You were too busy day dreaming to notice a rather large baseball come flying over your fence, you could only come to realization when it hit you square in the face, causing you to fall on the ground, the bags failing with you, items rolling every where. " Oww.." you groaned looking up at the sky, feeling dizzy but the sight of the fluffy, white clouds was interrupted by a certain, jock, named Alfred Jones or more commonly know as America, leaning over you with concerned eyes.
"Dude! My bad, you ok?" he asked holding your shoulders slightly. ' Great, first cheerleaders, now jocks' you thought to yourself barley paying attention to his question.
"Well do I look ok?" you snapped at him, not meaning to be so mean but getting irritated by the throbbing pain that was now developing by your right eye.
" oh...umm...right" he said, "Well, no worries, the hero's gonna fix this! Even if he did it" he started to laugh loudly but then stopped when he got a better look at you, frowning when he noticed your swelling eye.
"Can you please move? I need to get up" you mumbled
" oh... Right, well let me help you" before you could protest, he had already pulled you up,using only one arm; then turned and started to pick up the scattered items. You started to do the same, you then quite shyly, opened your front door, allowing him to put the bags in your kitchen.
"Dude, I'm like super sorry for the baseball thing, I didn't mean to hit you"
You raised a eyebrow at him, "Like I believe that"
"No dude I'm telling the truth... whoa! Your eye!" he said as he walked over to you ,touching your now black and swollen eye, you pulled back slightly, shocked by his closeness. He turned from you and opened your freezer, like it was his house, pulling out a bag of frozen peas, putting it on your eye. You flinched slightly from the pain and from the fact that he was being so nice.
"So the names America, whats yours?"
"(y/n) and by the way, I know who you are, you have been my neighbor for eight years"
"Wow! Haha, that's a shock" he said flashing you a perfect smile, "oh wait, (y/n), I'm sure I've heard your name around school" you closed your eyes, knowing what was coming next, " yeah that's right! Reject (y/n)..." he said, mumbling the last part.
" Yeah that's me, reject (y/n), I didn't expect you to know me, considering your the head of the baseball team, Mr popular, the king of the jocks, so yeah..." you said as you walked to the front door, opening it then looking back at America "Don't feel bad, I can so totally understand, if you want to get away from me as quick as possible, it would be suicide to your image, after all" you said, motioning at the front door, he only looked at you, his eyes a mixture of guilt and confusion, then almost awkwardly walked out your front door, looking at you silently.
"Oh and don't worry, I won't mention this to anybody at school, no one will know that you talked with the reject" you said, holding the bag of pleas to your eye which was throbbing painfully, he looked at you, something flashing in his charming blue eyes.
"Well, bye dude" he said as he walked down your drive then at last minute, he added, "dude, (y/n), I am sorry, about hitting you" then proceed to walk back to his house. You shook your head, "Well that's about the longest conversation, I have ever had with a jock" you said to yourself, " and to think, that this was the only, conversation I will ever, probably have with Mr King Jock, America"
Well you sure were wrong, for this was most defiantly not the last that you would be running into America...