Page 2 of Dramatic for the Defeated (Rejected 5)

Chapter 1

Brody

Watching Julianna Davis climb on a table in the middle of our lunch period has my stomach tying itself in knots. I just know this won’t end well.

She is the bravest, most passionate, and exuberant person I have ever seen. Basically, she’s the complete opposite of me. Julianna also has a habit of getting herself into situations she shouldn’t, usually from nothing more than a stupid dare. Of course, she’s never once looked my way, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed her. She’s hard to miss with her long legs, slight figure, blonde hair, and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. She also lives and breathes drama.

When I say drama, I don’t mean the petty shit girls our age like to spew around with the sole goal of hurting others. I mean Drama Club, big productions, flashing theater lights, the whole lights, camera, action, everything and anything to do with showbiz. She’s the type that is always the lead performer, but also busts her ass in the background to make sure everything for the production goes off perfectly. She doesn’t care that she may technically only have one job to do. She will pick up a paintbrush, sew at a sewing machine, and any other little detail that could help her castmates.

She doesn’t know that I volunteer to help manage and store all the stage props just so I can get a glimpse of her. That I stand in the very back of every performance she ever does just so I can watch her in her element. Performing on stage is definitely what she was born to do. I’ve seen her pull off everything from Rent to the school's current production of Pippin, and she’s amazing at it all. However, she often has a tendency to get into trouble and let other people’s words push her into doing something crazy or stupid.

Like, for instance, climbing on top of a cafeteria table, singing “Popular” from the show Wicked at the top of her lungs, and doing flips and other tricks in front of the whole school. Something in my gut has me heading her way, just in case things go sideways. As always, my gut instinct proves correct when I see one of the stuck-up cheerleaders tip her drink over at the end of the table… right where Julianna is about to step. She’s doing some fancy handstand flip thing—I have no clue what these moves are called—but the minute she tips upright, her foot slides through the puddle of spilled soda.

I rush over to her without a second thought, with Parker calling my name behind me. We were just about to ditch the rest of our classes after getting something to eat, but now I know I have to get to her in time. If she falls from that height, I’m scared of what could happen. I watch as the spilled drink sends her into another front flip, and I get there just in time for her to flip and turn, coming down right in my arms. She squeezes her eyes tightly shut, bracing for the fall that won’t come. When she opens one eye and peeks out at me, it’s hard not to smile. God, she is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Uh, hi,” she breathes out softly, her eyes locked with mine. I open my mouth to say… something, but a booming voice comes from the entrance to the cafeteria behind us.

“Julianna Davis! My office now!” the principal yells, turning bright red.

“Can’t you see I’m waiting for the applause? Seriously, they may demand an encore,” Julianna tells him, throwing her head back… dramatically. I try hard not to smile, but it's so fucking hard when she’s so damn cute.

“Juju….” one of Julianna’s friends whines, shifting around nervously while keeping an eye on the principal.

“NOW!” the booming voice echoes through the cafeteria again.

“Fine!” she snaps back while grumbling about old men and their demanding ways.

“You need to put me down, big guy. I think I’m in enough trouble as it is, and with how good your arms feel right now… I can definitely tell you’re trouble,” she laughs softly at me, patting my arm with something almost like affection.

I give her a brisk nod before slowly lowering her to the ground. I hate the feeling of emptiness I get the minute she steps out of my grasp. She looks up at me, looking like she is about to say something, when we hear her name snapped again. Julianna rolls her eyes but gives me a small smile before turning and sashaying her way through the cafeteria, her head held high and a smirk plastered to her lips.

“There is no one else in the world like her,” her friend says, grabbing hers and Julianna’s bags, shooting a nervous glance at Parker and me before turning and heading after her friend. If I didn’t know any better, I would say the pink on her cheeks appeared just as Parker came over. Interesting, but what do I know?

“Dude, that was seriously the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. You think she could teach me how to do that?” Canaan, ever the adventurous one, says in complete awe.

“Who was her friend?” Parker whispers, following the direction the small, shy girl just went. I lift a shoulder in a shrug, not sure if I’ve ever seen her before. I noticed she had a huge instrument case she was carrying as she walked out, but that was about it.

“Y’all ready to get the hell out of here?” Griffin asks, annoyed at the interruption, and we all start moving toward the school parking lot.

I gave one last glance in the direction Julianna went before following my brothers out of the cafeteria. Teachers watch us with trepidation or plain hatred as we walk by. It's honestly nothing that we did. People labeled us as bad kids or troubled a long time ago. They made assumptions about us just because of where we live and how we were raised. My brothers and I got the typical stereotype of the bad boys from the wrong side of the tracks, almost like an old fifties movie or something. They don’t care what was going on in our home life then or now because we aren’t worth their trouble. Honestly, we stopped caring about what anyone thought of us a long time ago. We made sure we were passing our classes, and mostly, our teachers would rather us not be in attendance, so they gave us a pass.

The only class I ever really cared about getting to was my art class first thing in the morning. I loved to paint, draw, sketch, anything. I liked designing new images or logos and seeing them come to life on paper. That’s one thing Dean’s girl and I have in common.

Although Rissa is way more talented than me, I swear she will be rich and as famous as Van Gogh one day. My art is in another class altogether, and my skill would be used a bit differently. I want to do custom designs on motorcycles. I’ve already done my bike with the same logo that is plastered on my leather jacket. I made our Reject logo freshman year. It’s one of a kind and still turns heads. It was nothing hard, a skull winking and “Rejected” written across it, but we all loved it and decided it worked well for us.

After a unanimous vote, we had leather jackets made for us all. Now, it appears it’s a treasure to be passed down to the one person on this earth we can’t live without. It's kind of like the letterman’s jackets the jocks give all their girls, but with more sentiment. These jackets don’t just go to the woman we want now… it's only for our one and only.

I have a feeling I’ll be giving up my jacket soon, seeing as I gave Julianna my heart a long time ago. She just doesn’t know it yet.

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