rejected ; c.h. (part ix -- final)
summary: he was just a silly little crush that you had in high school, and you were sure that after graduating, you would be over it. so why is your heart beating fast as he sits next to you in your first class on your first day of college? chapter summary: calum finally gets the chance to talk to you, but he thinks it may be too late. pairing: calum hood x reader (gender-neutral) genre: fluff, angst, classmates to friends to lovers au, college au warning(s): cursing but what else would you expect from me, feelings, stubbornness oof, uhh small time skip that may or may not be mentioned, not beta read because i refuse to read--there will be mistakes but i really want to post this, jealousy, mentions of past toxic relationship, that's all i believe word count: 9.6k 🧍♀️
a/n: after 4 (5? idk i can't count) years, the rejected rewrite is finally done! it should not have taken this long but uhh it did and i do not like that. this was definitely a journey and it wasn't exactly a fun one, but it was a journey nonetheless. honestly i found myself disliking what i wrote and wanting to scrap a chapter more than usual. i kept pushing through, however i realize that doing that isn't healthy and greatly hindered my writing process. life factors also prohibited me from writing freely, but what can ya do? now that this series is done, i'm looking forward to writing new things and maybe even expanding on who i write for. RPF is becoming more uncomfortable for me to write, but picturing said real person as a character and using their name and face as a placeholder is how i've been able to write then and now. all in all, i am finally happy that this series is done. i don't see myself rewriting any other fics i've done in the past, however i may expand on some. i have lots of ideas written down that i want to turn into a story so we'll see where that goes. for now, enjoy! happy new year to all, i hope 2026 brings you what you need along with good health, success, joy, and love. stay safe!
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You did not mean to open the text. You were trying to swipe out of a page on one of your shopping apps, coincidentally touching the upper left corner as the notification appeared. Now, you’re staring wide-eyed at the new text from Calum.
we should talk. face to face. there are things i need to say, specifically what i've been needing to tell you for a while. before the break. 10:49pm
You regret keeping your read receipts on for the sake of your family (because that was all they needed instead of a response sometimes). He knows you’re awake. He knows you read his message. Leaving him on read isn’t going to do any good, so you should reply.
But what do you even say? After barely speaking ten words to the guy, what do you do? And he wants to talk about the incident, too?
Seconds tick by and your nerves are all you’re focused on. A cold sweat breaking out down your back while your thoughts race with the possible outcomes of the upcoming interaction. But you don’t get the chance to dive in.
Your phone vibrates again as another message comes through.
i understand that this is unexpected but i need to get things off my chest. 10:51pm
sorry if this woke you up. if u don’t want to i understand. goodnight 10:52pm
You mull over his words, still trying to find the courage to respond, let alone the words. It’s pathetic that you can’t even give him a simple reply, letting your nerves get the best of you.
In the end, you leave him on read.
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When the three of you meet up again, Calum makes no effort to mention the texts. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t even look at you, nor does he talk to you. if Ashton noticed, he didn’t say a thing.
The ball is now in your court, it’s your turn to make the next move, but you struggle to do so. Rather, you’re embarrassed.
Not in the sense that he reached out or necessarily be the first to do so because honestly, deep down, you were hoping he would.
The issue, however, is that you never truly prepared yourself for what you were going to say. You knew how you felt about him and how his words made you feel. You know how you felt about the aftermath too. How you feel about Calum now though...the feelings have lingered. And they have only grown more during this project.
Ashton has done most of the talking, being the middleman in a tense-but-not-really situation. He brings both of you into a conversation, but Calum is the first to dip out.
Once the session ends, Ashton watched Calum saunter off, bidding a small ‘bye’ to what seems like no one as he fails to make eye contact with either of you.
You can feel Ashton’s eyes on you, and you know you’re going to answer some hard-hitting questions. You sigh, preparing yourself for the conversation, “What?”
“I think you know what.”
He hasn’t even packed his stuff, opting to essentially guilt you into staying and having a (hopefully good) chat. Usually, you’d all walk out together, ensuring everyone has a ride home and makes it safely to said ride.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You shrug, trying to be nonchalant. Ashton’s not buying it though. You sigh again, turning to face him fully, “Calum sent me texts last night.”
Ashton’s eyes widen slightly before returning to their normal size. He nods once, “What did he say?”
You pull your phone out from under your notebook, showing him the messages. Ashton is kind enough to not scroll through the thread (even though he so badly wants to, just to see what Calum’s been telling you – he's nosy when it comes to his friend’s love life). His eyes widen once more as he looks back up at you.
You gulp, already dreading staying to have this talk.
“You left him on read?” He asks incredulously, like it was the most sinister thing you’ve done.
“I know,” you groan, wincing when you remember that you’re still in the library. You lean back in your seat, arms crossed on your chest, “I just...I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say.”
Ashton nods knowingly. He’s sort of enjoyed this shy back and forth between you and Calum, but once he saw just how much it was affecting you both, it stopped being fun.
“What should I do?” You ask, moving your crossed arms to the table and leaning forward, tone soft with hints of doubt.
“Well, what do you want?” Your gaze shifts to him, confusion distorting your features.
You haven’t really thought about that, what you want exactly. What do you expect to come out of a rekindling with Calum? A friendship? Relationship? Maybe nothing at all?
All of the times spent thinking of Calum and what went down, you’re surprised to learn you really haven’t thought about that. Has he thought about that?
“Look,” Ashton says your name, placing a comforting hand atop yours, “both of you are clearly struggling. He’s trying to extend an olive branch, but knowing him, he’s not the best with his feelings. Sometimes he’ll read into something too much, while other times he’ll be oblivious.”
You raise an eyebrow – is Calum taking your lack of response as you not wanting to talk to him at all? That’s not what you intended, but looking at the big picture, that’s definitely what it looks like.
You want to talk to Calum, at least to get closure. You want a mutual understanding of the situation. You want to be friends with him. You at least want to go back to how it used to be. If the feeling is mutual, then you at least want to try, feel it out with him and see what it could be (and maybe all this will be worth it).
“Either respond,” Ashton’s voice shakes you out of our thoughts, “or talk in person. The longer this drags on, the worse it’ll get. You guys can’t keep beating around the bush day and and day out.”
You bite the inside of your cheeks. It feels like you’re being scolded by your parent for something you knew you shouldn’t have done but did it anyway.
You only offer a nod, making sure you’ve packed your stuff before standing up with him.
Walking out of the library together, Ashton pats your back reassuringly, giving you a gentle smile, “I’m your friend, too. Okay? If you need anything, let me know.”
“Okay.”
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You needed to sit yourself down and really think about what you wanted to say to Calum. That was the first step. You need to clearly and concisely get your thoughts out and your feelings in control. Emotions as well. Once you can do that, then you can seek Calum out for the talk.
It seemed easier in your head. It felt easier. Yet the second you saw him on campus, all the courage you built up was gone. Your brain shut down and went directly into fight or flight mode. Fight being to suck it up and go for it, disregarding any embarrassing consequences from not being fully pr4epared, whereas the flight aspect was to continue on with your day and avoid him at all costs (to you, it was the safest option, even if it’s in the short run).
Every time you saw him, it was flight mode. It got to the point that at the group session, Ashton took it upon himself to excuse himself so the two of you can finally talk. But you were unprepared.
Silence washed over the table. It was unnerving; the library was always quiet, as it should be, but it felt like there was a distant buzz, your ears straining to find any noise. Anything to help calm your nerves, to help occupy your mind.
But there’s nothing other than Calum’s soft breathing and his pen scribbling in his notebook.
“Hey, Calum?” You try, gently tapping your finger on the table next to his notebook to get his attention.
It doesn’t work.
You call his name again, albeit a bit louder, and you notice his hand freeze. “Can we talk?”
He keeps his head facing down, eyes stuck to where he was writing. Leaning back in his chair, he puts his pen down, “About?”
He’s being short with you. You understand why, and you admit it’s deserved. It doesn’t make it easier for you, though. As a matter of fact, it makes it harder for you to say what you want. Regardless, you have his attention now (at least, you think he’s paying attention), so there’s now going back.
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you beg a higher power to help you, before slowly exhaling.
“I’m sorry,” you start, opening his eyes to watch his reaction, “I didn’t mean to leave you on read—”
“But you did.”
You falter at his interruption, nodding, “I did.”
Another uncomfortable silence forms, however this time, it carries a heavy weight. The shelves filled with books surrounding you two suddenly feel closer, bigger.
“I intended to reply,” you try again, swallowing before trudging on, “I really did. I just...” The words escape you and now you’re stuck.
Calum’s eyes finally move to meet yours. There’s a hint of indifference on his features that’s throwing a wrench into whatever you conjured up. He breathes out your name and now everything around you feels bigger. He leans forward, arms now crossed on the table with his focus completely on you. You’re shrinking.
“If you don’t want to talk, just tell me. Alright? I know what I did was bad. I was out of line and I didn’t pay attention to your feelings. And I want to apologize—actually apologize for it. But how can I when you’re doing this?” Calum gestures between the both of you, pausing to take another breath. “I get that I was an ass, okay? I do, fully understand. But I want to make an effort to fix it, to at least repair some of it if not all.”
“I told you, I meant to reply.”
“Yes, but we go to the same school. We’re classmates. We cross paths almost daily though you have been avoiding me any chance you get.”
So he’s noticed. Of course he’s noticed. Everyone could see it, honestly.
You sigh, feeling defeated. This is not how either of you wanted this conversation to go. It’s become rough, almost harsh; it feels too adult. Something you should be able to handle now that you’re in college, but even then, is anyone really ready for them?
“Calum,” you get out, putting your discomfort aside and hoping the space closing in on you opens back up. “I was embarrassed. You know? I opened myself up to you and told you how I felt. I’ve never done that before – it was so brand new to me. But I was so embarrassed when you did that.”
His eyes soften, and you can see a glimpse of the guy you had feelings for back in high school. It’s gone as quick as it appears.
“What I said was out of line. I know it was then and I still know it was now. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“But you still said it,” you mumble, knowing this conversation is going nowhere.
Calum mutters out your name in agitation, hands coming up to rub at his eyes before sliding down his cheeks.
He wants to apologize, but with the way this conversation turned, he cannot bring himself to do it. Both of you are emotional, there’s tension, both of you are too stubborn to say any form of an apology first.
It’s silent again. Neither of you are looking at each other. The murmurs of the other students fill in the gaps as you try to put together a sentence to bring the conversation back and under control.
A beat passes, “What is it that you wanted to tell me?” You finally look up at him, waiting for his eyes to meet yours before continuing. They drift to yours briefly before falling again, finding the patterns on the wooden table to be of interest. You swallow before pushing forward, “You said there were things you’ve been needing to tell me for a while. What is it?”
His eyes meet yours again, but this time they stay. You see an unfamiliar look in them, something you’re not used to with him at least. His eyebrows are creased slightly, eyes dancing between yours.
He’s trying to anchor himself; preparation to finally open up to you and share something he never thought he’d be able to do, specifically to someone he’s caught feelings for. He can feel it bubbling up, words tiptoeing on his tongue trying to sneak out before he can stop them.
And he doesn’t stop them. An inhale, mouth opening with his back straightening, “I wanted—.”
Calum is interrupted. The words quickly die on his tongue, eyebrows move to shoot up, mouth closing as he exhales.
“Hey Calum,” a girl, both familiar and unfamiliar to you, with her hand placed on his shoulder to get his attention, smiles down at him in greeting.
You feel like you’ve seen her before. Somewhat ringing a bell but the bell is broken. You see Calum’s eyes again, brief, before he turns to look at the girl.
“Sorry to bother you, but do you have the notes from two classes ago? I think I missed something important.”
Calum nods, taking out a notebook and flipping through the pages.
You can only sit in silence as their interaction unfolds. As you observe, though, realization hits you. It’s a vague recognition, but once she turns to look behind her at another group studying nearby (which you assume are her friends, noting how they all exchange smiles with each other as they watch her), you understand where you’ve seen her.
The girl you saw about to confess to Calum. The same girl he rejected. The one he asked for your help with.
She finally acknowledges you, but her expression is nothing but indifference. No friendly smile, no grimace, barely even neutral.
But you know, you know, that she’s still hurt from that rejection. You’re in her shoes, too. But unlike you she’s able to gain the confidence to talk to Calum despite the negative feelings that linger. She’s the bigger person between you two.
“Here,” Calum’s voice breaks the weird moment, “is this what you need?”
The girl skims over the notes, a sigh of relief falling from her lips with a smile, “Thanks. I’ll just get a quick picture and I’ll be on my way.”
Calum nods, sliding the notebook closer to her.
The chair besides you slides out before a body settles in. “Hey, what’d I miss?” Ashton whispers into your ear, noticing the guest next to Calum.
You shake your head, “Nothing important.”
Ashton notices the shift in demeanor between you and Calum but he doesn’t push it. Instead he settles on getting back to work, letting Calum finish up what he’s doing.
Calum, however, notices the shift. Heaviness settles in his chest; another opportunity gone to waste. At least this time he was able to make some progress, even if it didn’t get too far.
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Calum corners you the next day.
It’s cold and rainy outside, the wind making your nose cold to the touch and you so badly want to bring your sweatshirt’s collar up to the bridge of your nose. The desire to preserve any heat your body is creating to prevent it from getting sick is big, but not as big as the desire to find an escape route.
He catches you just outside of the library. It’s the middle of the day and you have one more class, so you hid out in the library to avoid the weather until it was time to get to your class. On your way out to make a dash for the building next door, he pops into view and immediately halts your attempt.
“Hey,” he addresses you, positioning his body to block you from getting away. His eyes keep you in place, not letting you look away. “We really need to talk. Honestly talk.”
The tone of his voice is enough to make you want to run, to bolt and go as far as your legs will let you. He’s not physically keeping you from doing it but the look on his face is telling you that the entire situation is bothering him as much as it’s bothering you.
So in response, you nod. Just a simple nod is enough for him as he mimics your nod before tilting his head to the side, referencing a building nearby. The weather is getting to him too, and he’s scolding himself for waiting outside to finally get you alone. (He won’t admit how long he was outside if you were to ask him, and he hopes you don’t ask how he knew where you were [it was 30 minutes with Ashton’s help].)
The building nearby thankfully has coverings between itself and the library so neither of you are greatly affected by the rain, and it’s also a good place to go to avoid the overzealous librarian (who doesn’t get many shifts, but when she does, most of the students avoid the library like the plague) and get some work done. It’s a student recreational building, but it’s mostly been used as a backup study area when the library gets too crowded. But now, it’s the place where you and Calum will have The Talk.
Once inside the building you realize how uncomfortable it’s become and how more uncomfortable it’s going to get. Despite that, though, you know you cannot keep backing out or putting off this much needed conversation. For the sake of both of your headspaces, along with Ashton’s and Jessie’s too, it is time for all of this to end and go back to normal. Or, at the very least, to have some normality.
“First,” he starts, gulping audibly, now struggling to keep his eyes trained on yours. At least the both of you are on the same boat. “I want to apologize for yesterday when Hannah interrupted us.”
Oh, that’s her name? At least now you can put a name to her face.
“I could’ve—no, should’ve—told her that I could send her a picture of the notes, or show them to her when we were done. I used that interaction to distract me, I guess. I’ve wanted to have this… ‘discussion’ with you since the break, but I could not bring myself to go up to you. It made things worse when you started avoiding me.”
You nod absentmindedly, feeling yourself clamming up but forcing any anxiety bubbling up to stay down. You can’t fault him for feeling like that, really. Someone needed to be the bigger person in this matter. While you wanted to hide under every pillow and blanket in your house to avoid this, Calum was working up the courage to get you alone to talk.
Confrontation has never been your strong suit.
He notes your silence. It doesn’t help him but it doesn’t stop him from continuing on either. He clears gus throat, nervously glancing around before locking eyes again. “So, after all that, we should stop beating around the bush and actually talk.”
You nod again, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
Calum grins but only for a moment. It’s fleeting, but it’s enough to make you feel butterflies—even after everything that’s happened, they’re still there.
He opens his mouth to speak again, but he stops himself, closing his mouth with a frown. His feet shift as his eyes drift to them. You can practically see the cogs turning in his head. He’s trying to form the next sentence, but his mind is jumping through different ideas. Only two choices come through clearly: apologize entirely, for everything from start to finish, or finally admit his feelings. He cannot decide which one would be the best option, but a voice of reason in the back of his head tells him the latter would be the worst.
Before he can spill the truth, you speak up.
“That day,” you should’ve cleared your throat, that sounded croaky, “that day, when I said all of that. I was open, Calum. I was vulnerable. And you threw it back in my face. You made me feel so…stupid.”
You see his jaw clench, knowing now you have full control of the conversation and most (if not, all) of your worries are slowly but surely fading. Now, it’s replaced by anger.
“I knew something was bothering you,” you continue, “and maybe the confession was poorly timed. But you had no right to put me down like that. That was humiliating.
“You could’ve done it gently. You could have simply told me that that was not the time nor place to do it. But now,” you scoff, feeling heat climbing up your back into your neck. Shaking your head, you look away from him, “I regret telling you how I felt. I regret even feeling like that.”
Oh, no. No, no, no.
Calum’s heartbeat increases, his eyes are shaking as he looks for any signs of you lying, or joing he hopes.
Do you not feel that way anymore? Did he take too long? Was he too late?
Fuck it.
“I like you!” he splutters out, surprising both you and him.
A long pause, a sniffle, then a mumble.
“Huh?”
Your eyes jump back to him, wide before narrowing. He’s mirroring your expression, though his cheeks and ears are reddened.
An audible gulp from Calum, “I—uh, I like you. Too, I like you, too, actually.”
Moments like this are when you miss Jess by your side. They’d nudge you, motioning you to say something and even drop a word or two to keep the conversation going to prevent it from getting awkward. Now, you’re silent; mouth open, eyes staring into his, confusion clouding your brain, possibly a slight ringing in your ears or maybe it’s the distant wind outside. Regardless, you have no words.
Calum once again takes in your silence, and once again he decides to continue talking.
“I know that this—” his hands come up to motion the space between you two, “—is all confusing and now my timing is probably bad, but I need to tell you that.”
You shake your head again, this time taking a step back. You need to leave, and you need to leave now. Not because you’re going to be late for your class—that’s no longer your priority—but because it feels like you’re being cornered. Overwhelmed as if a bomb was dropped and you have nowhere to hide.
Calum takes a step forward, panic in his voice, “I’m so sorry for how I handled your confession, and I’m so sorry for everything I said before it. I was just, in my head. I was so in my head to the point I was pushing away my feelings for everything; friends, family, love. I felt scared and I wasn’t winning the battle and I took it out on you when I should not have done that.
“I turned you down when I didn’t want to. I take full accountability for everything that lead up to this and I know I need to do better. And I will. But I want to try this. I want to try us.”
Still, you’re silent, but you don’t take another step back. You’ve dropped the eye contact, and your body language reads as if you were closed off, protecting yourself.
Another long pause, and he breaks it again.
“Say something…please.”
You can only shake your head, and it’s starting to break his heart.
“I’m,” you swallow, muttering, “I’m not interested.”
Now there’s a ringing in Calum’s ears. He’s frozen, watching you shrink seemingly shrink yourself before you turn on your heel, mumbling about how you can’t deal with this right now.
He can only watch you walk away and he’s beating himself up for it.
This was not how The Talk was supposed to go.
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You are a liar. A big liar. A big fat liar with your pants on fire.
At least that’s what Jessie is telling you on the phone.
Jess is loud, even after taking them off speaker and turning the volume down significantly.
You had immediately called your best friend as soon as you got home, as you should when your long-time crush confesses that they like you. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted making the call.
“He finally said it!” They exclaim once more. “He finally reciprocated your feelings, so what’s the issue?”
You sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for another loud reaction. Closing your eyes with an exhale, pulling the upper part of your phone away from your ear just to mumble into the microphone (and save your eardrums), “I turned him down.”
You expected Jessie to yell, screech, scream—any other loud noise, really—but instead, you got the opposite. Complete and utter silence. You pull your phone away from your face to check the screen. The call was still going, neither of you hung up. You watched the seconds tick as the silence continued.
“Jess?” You question, checking your screen once more to see if you were muted.
“You’re joking,” they immediately respond, refusing to believe you rejected your own crush. “You have to be. This isn’t a big prank you’re playing on me, right?”
You sigh, bringing your free hand up to rub at your forehead. You were hoping they would be a little more understanding, all things considered. After telling them everything that went down with Calum from then to now, you presumed Jess would be on your side.
“Did you guys even talk? What happened with that?”
“We tried, or at least I tried, I guess.”
And you did try. The way the conversation took a turn was not necessarily unexpected, but you didn’t get to say what you wanted to say. What you needed to say.
“So?” They push further.
You sigh, again, “So, it just didn’t work. It was awkward and there was an interruption by this girl and it threw—”
Jess immediately cuts you off, “A girl? What girl?”
“Hannah was her name. She was the one who had this weird public confession to Calum. Reminded me of some cringe scene from a K-drama or something.”
“Someone’s trying to steal your man,” Jess snorts. But before you can criticize their remark they continue, “She saw you two talking and decided to butt in? Weirdo.”
You chuckle, “Jess,” you adjust your position in bed, laying down against your pillows. “But, yeah. The conversation was going somewhere, I don’t know where exactly though, and she comes along and just destroys the flow of things. Fast forward to today and he basically cornered me to talk. The talk was brief but I did get heated and he just..blurted it out.”
“And then you rejected him?”
You nod, closing your eyes as you replay the memory, “Yeah. I told him what he told me when I told him that I liked him.”
It’s Jess’s turn to chuckle now; this was not the same person they knew back in high school. Freshman-you would run from him as soon as he laid eyes on you. Sophomore-you would avoid him if he were to walk in your direction. Junior-you would stand frozen and silent when he confronted you, and senior-you would crumble and eat up what he said.
But this is college-you. You’re different now. You put your foot down, and in Jessie’s eyes, you got your pettiness from them. Still a little clueless at times but you’re getting there.
“But you’re lying, right? You still like him?”
This time, you’re silent, and it annoys you. After all of that, even before The Incident, you should not have feelings for him still. You were treated horribly, almost like an afterthought, but your heart still skipped a beat and your stomach fluttered with butterflies.
“So, you lied.” Jess bluntly states, and you can hear the smirk now.
“I guess so,” you mutter, followed by a groan, “but I had good reason!”
Jess hums, “Not really. I mean, you confessing to him was the catalyst right?”
“So this whole thing is my fault?”
“No, sweetie,” Jess’s tone shifts to a soft lilt. You recall hearing it when the conversations would turn serious, almost sympathetic. “I’m not pointing fingers at you alone. All of this culminated after things boiled over. Both of you are to blame and neither of you should keep this weird cat and mouse game going on.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, mulling over the silence as if finally dawns on you. This back-and-forth thing you and Calum have is childish. It’s not doing the two of you any good and it’s getting in the way of your school life as well. Avoiding him when possible even if it means you’d be late to class is regressing.
“You’re right,” You speak up, “you’re right and I hate it.”
“You can hate it all you want, but if you really want to prove me right, you need to act.”
“But how? How do I approach him and say what needs to be said?”
Jess hums again, “I’ll get back to you on that. For now, finish that project and get some rest. I can hear how tired you are.”
They sound reassuring, and you know they’re trying to steer any suspicions you may have of them. Jess knows that you know that they have something up their sleeve. But you’ve known Jess for years, you know when they’re plotting something. Usually you would sit back and enjoy whatever plan they had unfold. Now, however, you are nervous and you do not want anything to do with what they may or may not have concocted.
Regardless, you heed their advice and finish up the remainder of your project, sending the finished portion in an email to Ashton and Calum.
Laying in bed, you go over what you should say and what you could say. It’s gone as quickly as it comes as sleep overtakes you.
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You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. There’s a heat prickling in your lower back, trickling upwards towards your neck. You’re past nervous at this point. You’re one jab away from falling into a full blown panic.
Today was the due date for the group project, and your oh-so-lovely teacher decided it would be beneficial (“for all of us,” apparently, “would be easier to grade.”) to present the projects today as well. It only made things worse.
Today was also the day Jessie pushed you to have a Real Talk with Calum.
(“So help me, God, I will enroll myself and leash you two up and tie you to a pole if that’s what it takes,” they had said. Threatening? Yes. Helpful? Absolutely not. Plausible? To Jessie, no doubt about it.)
After you sent your finished portion of the project, you had expected Calum to not say anything. What you hadn’t expected was Ashton to be radio silent as well. It worried you.
What if they didn’t finish? What if they’re ignoring you (again)? What if they didn’t come today? This will surely affect your grade—.
A hand randomly appears in your face, waving before the face it belongs to comes into focus.
“Hey,” Ashton smiles once your eyes find his. “I was calling your name. You okay?”
You nod, feeling the heat travel to your face from your neck, “Yeah, I’m fine?”
Ashton continues smiling. If he notices your embarrassment, he says nothing. “Nervous?” A beat. “Same here, actually. I wish we didn’t have to present today. Kind of puts more pressure on us, huh?”
You offer a small smile. Does he know about what happened between you and Calum? He has to know by now, right? They’re best friends, extremely close so they must tell each other everything. It would be ridiculous—.
“I went over your portion, by the way.” He interrupts again. He knows when to stop your internal rambling, though you’re not sure if you’re grateful for that. “It was great. I’m sure you’ll get high marks. Better than mine, if I’m being honest.”
The air feels different. Good or bad, you can’t tell, but it’s definitely different.
And by the time the class rolls around, you’ve decided that the feeling was neither a good or bad thing. It was just plain odd.
Ashton had been finding you whenever he could. In the classes you shared, he would make it a mission to talk to you. When he saw you walking around campus, he’d cut whoever was talking to him off and head towards you. If you were talking to someone else, he’d interject, adding himself to the conversation (which no one found to be a problem; he was charming enough to do so).
You thought you were having a fever dream because no one else was seeing how odd this was. Ashton is a social butterfly, you know that, but he was really going out of his way to talk to you and you had no idea why.
Or, well, at least you think no one else is seeing it.
Calum was not a happy camper.
At first, he thought Ashton was being his usual self with how he floated around to talk to people. What struck him as odd was just how frequent it became and in such a short amount of time. He watched Ashton jog to the other side of a building just to chat with you. He watched him break a conversation to go and greet you. He noticed Ashton’s eyes bouncing around to find you, and when he did, he’d head to you and leave Calum alone.
Calum did not explicitly tell Ashton that he told you he liked you. He bounced around it when Ashton noticed his mood shift, not intending to be vague but doing so only to avoid the looks of pity. He didn’t want to drag Ashton further into the mess.
That doesn’t mean Ashton doesn’t know Calum likes you—he knows, he remembers the realization the both of them had. Ashton knows, and Calum feels like he’s being mocked. Ashton freely talking to you like there’s no issue, like his best friend isn’t having this internal conflict, like there’s nothing wrong.
He’s annoyed, frustrated. With whom, though, he’s not exactly sure. He’s frustrated with himself for all that’s happened and how he’s handled things. Every time he thinks it couldn’t get worse, it does, and he does nothing to prevent it. But he’s also not sitting well with how Ashton’s acting.
The thoughts come creeping in again. You don’t like Calum anymore, and now you’re going to fall for his best friend. You said you weren’t interested in Calum, is it because you have eyes for Ashton? Ashton’s friendlier than Calum, he has this air around him that make him approachable. Maybe that’s what you want?
The memories he worked so hard on to get rid of, the ones that held him in a stronghold for years and prevented him from what he really wanted, all of it was starting to resurface. Calum was doing so good, and now he thinks it’s gone to waste. Maybe Sheila was right.
Calum is on autopilot by the time he reaches English. He doesn’t look for you or Ashton as he takes a seat in his usual spot. Instead, his eyes are downcast, his bag placed in front of him as he fiddles with the dangling zipper.
He doesn’t notice when you come in, how you look in his direction before taking your seat away from him. He also doesn’t notice Ashton following in after you, setting his stuff down next to Calum before walking towards your seat. He also misses the mischievous glint in Ashton’s eyes.
When the professor announces that presentations will start after making sure everyone is accounted for, Calum doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch when Ashton comes back, guiding you to the empty seat on the other side of Calum before occupying the seat where his stuff lay.
“I hope we’re not first,” You mumble low enough for the other two to hear before taking a sip of water from your tumbler.
Ashton responds quickly, “I’m sure we’ll be fine. If we go first, we won’t have to worry about topping the previous presentation. Besides, we’ll also be able to sit back and relax once we’re done. Right, Cal?”
Calum is still silent, eyes focused on a new part of his bag. Ashton nudges his side to get his attention.
It’s a late reaction. A reaction that furrows your eyebrows but makes Ashton smirk.
“Huh? What’d you ask?” Calum finally speaks, his eyes leaving his bag to look to his right where Ashton sits, leaning to his side on the table.
“Ignore what I asked,” Ashton readjusts, smirk gone, “are you feeling alright?”
Calum nods, sparing a glance at you (who seemed as concerned as Ashton—of course you’re picking up each other’s mannerisms—but unlike Ashton, you look away at the eye contact) before he clears his throat. A sniff, “I’m fine. Just, um, nervous about the, uh, project and stuff.”
“Well,” Ashton smiles, patting Calum’s shoulder, “no need to be worried. The writing portion is fantastic, thanks to you—” Ashton nods at you, “so that should save us from the worst of it.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Calum can see you smile sheepishly.
Is he…Is Ashton flirting? With you? Right in front of him?
Ashton is brave, he’ll give him that for sure, but dammit, right now? The memories try to claw their way through, but a newfound anger prevents it from reaching the surface. He doesn’t let the anger show, instead he broods.
The three of you end up presenting first, at Ashton’s insistence of course. Ashton kept true to his word and let you do minimal talking while he and Calum did the most. You spoke up when needed and by the end felt relief with the look on your professor’s face.
“I told you!” Ashton’s smile is infectious, “We did great, and going first takes the weight off of our shoulders.”
You smile back, feeling lighter and less stressed than you were when you woke up. Calum, though, remains the same: brooding, the corner of his lips slightly tilted downward.
It was starting to eat at you. You know it has something (really, everything) to do with you and it makes you feel worse. You wanted to talk to him about everything but you can feel his emotions oozing out of him. It makes you nervous and you don’t want to talk to him at all.
Another group presents after you. The three of you follow along through the end, and once they finish Calum asks to go to the bathroom. Once given the OK he leaves without a word to either of you. You move to the new empty seat, offering a closed lip smile as an opener.
“Is he okay?”
“Cal?” Ashton responds, “I’m sure he’s fine.”
You bit the inside of your left cheek, looking at the door Calum left through.
“You concerned, huh?” Ashton nudges your side like he did to Calum earlier.
You shake your head quickly, stopping when you see his eyebrow lift. You sigh then, “I mean, he’s been a little off today. Seems moody, like one wrong move and he’s pissed.”
Ashton only shrugs, turning his attention to the front as the next group is called.
It starts eating at you as the group presents. Your focus shifts from them to the door. You’re not listening to what they’re saying, probably something about the issue with modernized publications of old books, you just know they’re talking while your ears are trained on the sound of the door potentially opening.
You tap Ashton’s arm, leaning towards him to whisper, “Do you think it’s because of me?”
“I’m not sure,” he whispers back, “did you do something?”
You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. You see Ashton turn his head to look at you before turning back to the group.
“I—maybe, I don’t know.”
You do not sound confident, and with the way Ashton shifted in his seat you can tell he also knows that. When the group finishes with their presentation, he turns back to you.
“You can tell me, you know. We’re friends.”
So he doesn’t know what happened. Calum didn’t tell him. This was not a fitting topic to discuss during class.
“Listen, Jessie told me what happened,” Ashton starts.
You blink once, twice, trying to put pieces together. Your eyes jump to your professor, then to the door, back to the professor, and finally back at Ashton.
“They told me what you said—”
“Jess told you?” You interrupt.
“Yeah, even though we dated briefly we still keep in touch. They’re a good friend, promised to help me out with some outfits.”
You’re silent, finally putting the pieces together. Jessie’s little plan you thought was suspicious may be in play now. With how Ashton has been acting, their connection; there’s no doubt they’ve started working together. When exactly, you’re not sure.
“Look,” he lowers his voice, “I understand why you said what you said. I’d do it too if I was in your shoes. But, I need you to really, really sit down and talk to Calum. If you don’t have feelings for him anymore, then fine, it is what it is. If you do still have feelings for him, for our sake, fix this.
“He likes you more than he’d like to admit. He was beating himself up over that day, he was sulking and I wouldn’t doubt that he was calling himself every name in the book. He doesn’t always go for what he wants because of what happened in high school. He’s trying now. He’s still burdened but he’s trying.”
You clench your jaw, heat forming around your eyes before they start feeling wet. You’re not going to cry, not now, not in front of Ashton, not in class. But you can feel the tears forming before you can blink them away.
“Don’t tell him I told you this,” Ashton continues, “but back in high school, he spoke highly of you. During your projects he’d boast about having a ‘smart and competent’ partner. Few of the guys would tease him about it, say he’s developing a crush. He’d turn so red, but I don’t think he ever denied it. Just tried changing the topic, bounce around it if we kept pushing it. I don’t think he realized he actually liked you until recently, but I think he’s liked you longer than that.”
The heat travels from your eyes to your face and down your neck. Before you can respond, or attempt to really, another group is called to present.
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Calum doesn’t return until class lets out. He’s quick to get his stuff and walk back out, ignoring you and Ashton. Ashton could only sigh and offer a reassuring pat on the back.
For the rest of the day, you tried to think about you can get Calum alone to have The Real Talk, For Real This Time. He was seemingly avoiding you, not so much Ashton since he stuck to Calum like a tick. When you tried to get his attention, it only worked on Ashton.
Ashton thought he needed to step in. It was dumb, and probably will make things worse, but it needed to be done.
He convinced Calum to sit in the backseat of his car, saying they were going to have a chat about what’s gone down. He led him to the car, told him to wait inside while he acted like he forgot his phone somewhere before heading back towards campus.
When the other door opened up, Calum was shocked to see you take the seat next to him. You mirrored his expression, having no time to hop back out as the door is closed.
“You guys are talking this out now,” Ashton’s voice is muffled as he speaks, “I’m not going to sit around and watch you two look like kicked dogs. Talk.”
You and Calum say nothing. He reaches for the door handle, but nothing happens.
“I enabled child lock on the doors. So, talk. I’ll be here.”
Calum groans loud enough for Ashton to hear, and Ashton’s chuckle as a response makes him deflate.
“Son of a bitch actually tricked us,” he scoffs, “I can’t lie. I’m impressed.”
You laugh, “When I’m out of here, I’m giving him and Jess a stern talking to.”
“Jess? Jessie has something to do with this?”
You hum, nodding while playing with your phone case.
“Why am I not surprised.”
A silence grows, uncomfortable at first until it settles into something sad, soft.
“He’s right, though,” you start, keeping your eyes on your lap. You see Calum’s head turn to look at you. You continue, “All of this… it’s tiring. We’re adults now, and we’re acting like teenagers.”
Calum sighs, “You’re right. I almost feel bad for Ashton, having to be in the middle of all this.”
“I’m grateful for Jess, you know, for being around and listening to me groan on and on about problems I have. But I also feel bad that they had to sit there and watch, or listen I guess, to all this unfold.”
Another silence, not as uncomfortable but still sad.
“I’m sorry.”
You finally look up at Calum, his eyes staring into yours. Sadness swirls in them along with another emotion you aren’t quite familiar with. But the look he has, it sends you back to high school. The way he’d walk around with that look after more rumors went around about Sheila. Shoulders drooping, a crease in his brows, eyes downcast trying to avoid the looks that he was so used to.
“Cal—”
He holds a shaky hand up to cut you off, “No, I—fuck—I need to say this. I’m so, so sorry about everything. The way I was treating you before and after your confession was horrible. There’s no one to blame but me. Everything I said that day was terrible, and when my emotions get the best of me I can’t keep them in. I’ve kept my emotions in for so long and I hate it.
“What Sheila did to me was hard to manage and hard to fix. I had to dig deep just to feel any sort of positive emotion, especially when it came to crushes or, love in general. The negative thoughts would cloud my judgment and, in order to protect myself, I would try to force those thoughts onto others so I wouldn’t feel alone in it. It’s unhealthy and I’m trying to do better, trying to be better.
“After you left, I,” he takes in a deep breath, “I tried to figure out the exact moment where I went wrong. I thought back to when Hannah confessed, and all I could think…all I could think about was you. In that moment, what if it was you confessing to me instead of her? I mean, if that was you, I wouldn’t have turned you down in that moment, I don’t think. But, it made me realize that because it wasn’t you, I had to turn her down and at the same time, realize my own feelings. And I wasn’t ready for that.”
He feels a lump forming in his throat, his nose flaring.
His breath shudders as he continues, “I tried to push the feelings down, bottling up my emotions once again. When you confessed, it all just boiled over. I wanted that—I wanted you—but I didn’t have the courage to fight those thoughts. That night, I was beside myself. I thought back to how you looked and the tears and pain, and I tried to let my guard down and let the negative thoughts consume me, as punishment.
“But I kept finding light when it came to you. It was something I longed for, specifically back in high school when things started going dark. I found solace in the projects I did with you because you didn’t judge me, you didn’t throw how I felt about things back in my face—you were real, you were grounding. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I needed that, and I think I was too blind to realize it.
“I realize it now, though. I realize that, throughout everything, I want to have you near me. I want to make you happy and be the person I wanted when I was with Sheila. No more negative thoughts, no more bottling up my emotions and pushing them away.”
Calum’s voice is watery, any attempt at keeping his emotions in are gone. “I’m just—I just—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I like you. A lot. I think I’ve been lying to myself lately. I want you, and I’m sorry.”
He finishes, and only now notices your teary eyes, along with the tear streaks cascading down your cheeks.
“I’m sorry for all the times I’ve made you cry, and if I could I would go back and turn your tears of sadness into joy, into laughter and just…just remove all of the negative emotions I gave you. I’m sorry.”
It’s his turn to cry, and he lets the tears fall. He does nothing to stop the flow, and for once, he finally feels normal. He’s wearing his heart on his sleeve for the first time in a long time. For once, he feels no shame, no guilt with his emotions.
You haven’t said anything. Wind, cars, the occasional settling of the car, the trees; everything but the one thing he wants. He sits firm, letting the silence between you two envelop the car. Letting you think over his words.
You remain silent, but your hand rises to cup his left cheek, thumb gently wiping at the tears.
He leans into it, bringing his hand up to hold your wrist. He swallows, “Please. Please tell me your feelings haven’t changed. Please tell me that you and Ashton don’t have feelings for each other. That you still like me as much as I like you.”
You laugh wetly, bringing your other hand up to wipe the other cheek. Calum closes his eyes, relishing in the newfound warmth. His heart beat increasing, weight starting to lift itself off of his shoulders. It’s a feeling that’s new, but familiar. It’s akin to seeing someone or something you didn’t realize you had been missing. He wants to hold onto this feeling forever.
“Yes, I still like you,” you breathe out, “No matter how hard I tried to get over those feelings, I still kept coming back to them.”
“Oh, thank God,” Calum sighs, bringing his free hand to your other wrist, lips ghosting over it.
The moment is shattered by a noise outside, forcing Calum’s eyes open and directly falling on Ashton’s face in the window behind you. A goofy smile graced his face, but dropped when he caught Calum’s eyes. Ashton quickly stands back up, stepping away from the car again to give you two some more privacy.
“We’ll never hear the end of this, will we?” Calum asks, his hands moving to cup your cheeks to wipe at your own tears.
“With the two of them in our lives? Never.”
Calum smiles, bringing your head forward to place a kiss on your forehead. An apology is whispered before another kiss is placed.
You break apart and turn around to knock on the window to get Ashton’s attention.
“All good?” He asks, giving a thumbs up as he approaches.
Calum returns the thumbs up, giving you a smile before the door is opened.
Once you’ve stepped out, Calum grabs your hand before giving Ashton a look.
“What else have you been planning?”
Ashton’s smile widens, “If this didn’t work out I was going to have Jessie come and lock you two in their work van. No AC and no light.”
“Stupid idea,” you shake your head.
“Agree,” Calum deadpans, “it would not have worked. Would’ve made things worse.”
“Okay,” Ashton spreads his arms before they slap on his thighs, “so we’re not great with planning. At least this worked, right?” He motions to your intertwined hands, “It’s good now.”
“Not quite,” Calum replies, looking at you once more, “we still have some more talking to do. Lots more, really. But, we know where we stand.”
You nod, squeezing his hand. You look back at Ashton, “Thanks for being an ear and shoulder. To the both of us.”
“Of course. Like I said, we’re friends now.”
“Speaking of,” Calum points his finger at Ashton, “what was with you doing everything you can to talk to—“
“All part of the plan, Cal,” Ashton happily interjects, smiling as he recalls how jealous Calum seemed to get when he’d run off to get your attention.
“So you don’t like them?”
Ashton scoffs, “No, man. Why would I want to steal your crush?”
You laugh, and Calum’s flushed red.
Ashton revels in his best friend’s embarrassment, “You’ve been pining for a while. I had to listen to and watch you mope around about this situation. If I didn’t act odd, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Thank you again, Ashton.”
Ashton nods in response, giving the both of you a small smile before getting in his car.
Calum leads you away towards his car. His palm is sweaty and he prays that you can’t feel it. And you don’t, because yours is starting to feel clammy as well. You pull away at the same time as him.
“Do you—um,” Calum clears his throat, “do you need a ride? We can go somewhere and talk about…all of this. Or at least, open the door and start talking about it.”
A new, vaguely familiar voice speaks up in Calum’s head when you smile back up at him. A voice he hasn’t heard since middle school, one that was comforting, that helped him make the right choices. It’s the same voice that was shut out entering high school. It’s older now, more experienced, but still gives Calum the same hope. Unlike his time with Sheila, however, he plans to have full control. No more bottling up his emotions, no more shutting people out, no more pretending. He pledges to be honest with himself. If he wants to be treated the way he wished he was treated with Sheila, he needs to be upfront.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
He grins, exhaling the breath he held onto when he asked.
“We can stop by the coffee shop, too. Luke says he made a new drink and needs customers to say they like it to put it on the menu.”
“Sounds concerning,” You pretend to think about it, finger on your chin as you look towards the sky. “Why not.”
Calum laughs, shaking his head as he unlocks the doors. He reaches for the door handle at the same time as you, “I’ve got it.”
You blush—eyes down, smile on your face before you can stop it, warmth in your cheeks. Calum takes great pride in knowing he’s now the cause for it and will be the cause for a while at least.
Before he shuts the door, Ashton pulls up with the window down. A quick honk and he calls out for Calum, “Be honest with each other. No secrets, no lying, just complete truths. You’ll go far like that.”
He gives Calum a look that you don’t understand, but between the two of them, it’s an unspoken promise.
Ashton waves before driving off. Calum turns back to you with a small smile, nodding once before shutting the door. He jogs to the driver side and gets in, a comfortable silence settling in as he starts the car.
“He’s right,” Calum speaks softly over the hum of the car, “and I owe him. I’ll tell you every single thing that happened with Sheila, even if it hurts.”
You shake your head, “Don’t force yourself. Move at your own pace. As long as your being honest, and as long as you’re trying, I’ll wait.”
“I’d rather not have you wait anymore,” he looks at you, waiting for his turn at the stop sign, “but I hear you. I appreciate that.”
There’s a lot to be said. Questions to be asked and answered, more apologies to be given, explanations needed. But this is a small start. Feelings are known, and need to be navigated to avoid any unnecessary pain like before.
It’s not an easy path and Calum knows that. But, he’d rather trek down that path than sit and wait for something to change. If he wants change, he has to act.
And so, he is. Searching for your hand as you two wait in line, caressing it as Luke babbles on about his “cool” concoction (it’s terrible), watching you match Luke’s energy. He takes the initiative in the first big conversation, prepared to lay it all out on the line.
You don’t shy away, either. You listen intently, eyes staying on his and his hand movements, squeezing his hand from across the table when he starts to falter.
This is what he needed back then. Now that he’s found it, he’s looking forward to love and relationships. Something that seemed like a dream, a fairytale, nonexistent—it finally exists. All thanks to you.
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a/n 2: this is the official end! i did not mean to have a gap of almost a year between part 8 and part 9. wish things were easier so this would've been done earlier but regardless, here we are! thank you for reading, i look forward to new writings! 🩵