Rejection: Rejection
by Ophelia
I do not own the characters in this story, I am merely borrowing them, so don't sue! You should know who they really belong to by now.

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Cordelia Chase, most popular girl in school, and the one every girl wanted to be friends with, and every boy wanted to date, was crying. Actually, it was more like gushing. She was crying like she’d never cried before, tears pouring down her cheeks, mascara running, and the ultimate disaster: her nose was running and she was crying too hard to grab a tissue and prevent the catastrophe waiting to descend. Instead she let the mucous come, and began to cry at the state she was in, on top of her original reason.

Finally she managed to calm down enough to snatch a tissue from the dispenser beside the toilet; seat down, of course, just because she was falling apart didn’t mean she was going to actually *sit* on the toilet itself.

The crying slowly came to a halt, amid shuddering intakes of breath, and frantic sniffles, as Cordelia desperately tried to regain control. she commanded herself.

Unwillingly, she found her thoughts returning to the events that had brought on her emotional outburst.

She’d been walking home one night from Harmony’s house - her car was in the garage, and it had seemed a pleasant enough evening. Before she knew what was happening, she’d been grabbed roughly from behind. An indistinct voice spoke behind her: 'Shouldn't be walking alone, little girl. Not at night. You might run into something unpleasant.'

She was spun around, disoriented, and found herself facing a young man of about twenty. She guessed he was a fairly handsome dark-haired man. Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t confirm this because his face was marred with something she’d reluctantly come to acknowledge as a vampiric ‘game face’. She was about to be bitten by a vampire.

Her mind flicked back to some cursory advice she’d received from Buffy, after being rescued by the tiny blonde once again.

'Next time, carry a stake. Or at least a cross,' Buffy had said, coldly. 'I’m starting to think you do this just to annoy me.' Then the Slayer had turned and walked off.

Cordelia, surprisingly hurt by the comment, had shouted after her, 'What, do you think I carry a sign around ‘I’m a helpless victim, please kidnap me?’ You don’t *have* to rescue me.'

The Slayer had replied tiredly, without even turning around, 'Yes I do, Cordelia. It’s my job.'

Cordelia was brought back to her unpleasant situation by a hand, wrenching her head around and exposing her neck.

'Something unpleasant like *me*' the fiend finished, fangs descending.

Cordelia thought of the cross she’d dumped at home; crosses were *so* over. Unfortunately, the vampires hadn’t picked up on this change in fashion trends yet.

As she felt the fangs prick her neck, she sighed, fatalistically.

Suddenly the hand holding her was ripped away, and the vampire invading her personal space retreated, growling. She collapsed to the ground.

'I know you vamps don’t have any taste, but *Cordelia*?' a familiar voice said.

Cordelia paused, confused as to why the thought of being hated by Buffy hurt her so deeply.

Buffy threw the vampire to the ground next to Cordelia, and with a disdainful flick of her wrist, he was dust.

Cordelia sneezed as some of the former vampire wafted over to her, < I have an allergy to *dead vampires*? > she thought, disbelievingly.

Buffy turned to leave.

'Uh, tha-'

'Don’t bother, Cordelia. Don’t thank me; I’d rather you made my job easier by going one week without being attacked or kidnapped or assaulted by the forces of darkness.' Without even turning around, Buffy left.

Cordelia stood up, brushed off her clothes, and picked up her bag. Then she continued home, head down, deep in thought.

The next day Cordelia had a free first period. She headed straight to the library after registering. Once there, facing the double doors, she felt her resolve trickling away. A hand tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned round.

'Cordelia, hey! We were gonna meet up to discuss dates to the Bronze Friday night! Remember?!' Harmony grabbed her arm, and dragged her away.

'What were you doing there, buying a one-way ticket to Loserville?!' It was amazing how the girl managed to punctuate every sentence with an exclamation mark. Her bubbliness was turning Cordelia’s stomach. Nevertheless, she allowed her companion to guide her to a bench. They sat down, and Harmony began a steady stream of dialogue.

Cordelia found she only had to nod or murmur her agreement at what seemed to be the appropriate times, and Harmony never noticed that she wasn’t all there.

Cordelia allowed her mind to wonder. Cordelia then realised she knew exactly what she wanted to do there; she wanted to make it up to Buffy, repay her for all the times she’d needed to be rescued. And, to her astonishment, although she understood exactly what spending any time with Xander, Willow, Buffy and that weird librarian would do to her social position, she didn’t care.

She was tired of vacuous girls who were just hoping to gain her approval or take her place, and boring jocks whose idea of a girlfriend was someone who looked good on their arm at football games or dances, not a girl they could talk to.

Cordelia stood up and walked away quickly, making a beeline for the library.

Harmony could only sit there stunned for a minute, mouth opening and closing as she formed words, then rejected them She finally had to admit, she had nothing to say. She stood up and hurried after the brunette, calling Cordelia’s name loudly.

Then she realised that the sight of her running after Cordelia and being ignored might give people ideas that she was no longer second in line to assume Cordelia's crown. She didn’t want to jeopardise her own position, and so she slowed to a walk, and casually turned her steps in the opposite direction. She’d find Cordelia later, and give her hell for it. Did the girl not know her responsibilities?

Cordelia slowed down the second she realised Harmony had stopped following her. She reached the library and took a deep breath, pushing the doors open. Giles, Willow, Xander, Buffy, and Ms. Calendar, the most recent addition to the group.

'Hi,' she said, brightly. The occupants of the room stared at her, shocked. Xander was the first to recover suitably enough to compose an insult.

'Well, Cordy, did ya get lost on the way to the salon. 'Cause this place is murder on the hair and nails.' He turned to Buffy and Willow, grinning.

'I should know,' he said, waving a hand expressively at them. Joining in with his playful mood, Buffy grabbed his hand and inspected it closely.

'Man, you should really learn how to moisturise, Xander.'

'Maybe Cordelia could teach you? If she wasn’t so busy avoiding us and all,' Willow added.

'Yeah, Cordelia. Why aren’t you avoiding us and all? Seeing that this place is the popularity ruining home for unwanted losers the bitch-club have named it?' Buffy said, harshly.

'Look, I just wanted to-'

'Can it, Wannabe Queen. You aren’t welcome here. Get it?' She repeated the message, enunciating each word with a step towards Cordelia, until she was standing close enough to touch.

'You. Aren’t. Welcome. Go. Away.'

She leaned in closely. 'You may have counted Xander and Willow among your ‘losers to avoid except when insulting them’ list, but I’m here now. Don’t ever come near us again. If I hear of one word from your mean spoilt mouth aimed at them...' she paused, glaring meaningfully at Cordelia's neck.

'Lets just say I’ll be inviting a few of my undead playgroup round to your place one night,' she hissed.

Cordelia had never been more terrified in her life. She felt tears brimming unwanted in her eyes, and knew she couldn’t hold them back this time. Cordelia, Ice-Queen of Sunnydale High, was about to melt.

She turned and ran, skidding to a halt in front of the bathroom door. She paused for a few seconds to compose herself, and then entered, calmly and imperiously. Her gaze swept the room, coming to rest on three juniors, engaged in a discussion about the various merits of the captain of the football team.

'You. Out. Now,' she commanded, sweeping a hand at the door. The three girls scurried out without a word.

Cordelia checked each of the stalls. Satisfied she was alone, she barricaded the door with say well-placed chair, and collapsed into the stall furthest from the door.

'Do you think we were a bit over the top?' Willow asked, worriedly.

'Willow, you are the sweetest person I know,' Buffy said. 'No-one else would worry about the girl who made it her personal campaign to make every one else's life the worst she can. Especially since you are her favourite test subject.'

'Trust me, Will, Cordy’s just off fuming somewhere that she got a taste of her own medicine. Like she’d really get upset that we told her to get lost. We’re the losers, remember?' Xander explained.

'Oh. Yeah. Y’know, I’m kinda hoping she is upset. She deserves it.' A strange light came into Willows eye, and a disturbing smile surfaced on her lips.

Buffy leaned over to Xander and spoke in a mock horrified whisper. 'We’ve created a monster, Xander.'

He grinned. 'Get back everyone! She’s gonna blow!'

They both backed away from Willow, who grinned widely, and burst into peals of infectious laughter. Soon the other two were also laughing.

Giles turned to Ms.Calendar, a harassed expression on his face.

'I’ll never understand the joys of teenagers,' he confided.

'It’s lucky you never were one then, isn’t it, Rupert?' she said, smiling.

'Well, uh, I-I-I, uh, that is...' Suddenly he brightened considerably. 'I just remembered some urgent filing I have to do. In the, uh *privacy* of the stacks. It is so *private* there. People could just do anything. Make-out, even, I believe the term is.'

He turned to Ms. Calendar. 'We should go check, yes?'

She stared at him in open-mouthed amazement. 'Yes, I, uh, think we should. Uh, check, I mean. Because people can surprise you sometimes.' She stood up and the two hurried off.

The three teenagers stared after them, mystified.

'Huh. Adults.' Xander summed up their confusion neatly with two words.

Cordelia sniffed again, and checked her image one last time in the mirror.

'Well. It’s not magazine-cover perfect, but it’ll do. For now.' She took a deep breath, and strode to the door, the old, haughty Cordelia back in full force.

On the way she paused, and glanced into the mirror at her reflection.

'Rejection. So this is what it feels like.'

For one instant the vulnerable Cordelia, the facet of her personality she’d tried so hard to bury, slipped through.

'I had to hide it' she whispered, defensively. 'Popularity is something you have to work for, something you have to be prepared to pay the price for. I’ve made my choice. And I’m happy,' she added defiantly, raising her voice slightly.

She found her thoughts returning for the last time to the happy gang in the library. Then she shut the image away in the back of her mind, and headed out into the sunlight.

She spotted Harmony in the courtyard immediately, and stopped several feet from the group surrounding the girl.

she thought, with a slight smile.

'Harmony!' she shrieked. All seven girls faced her immediately.

She noticed Harmony’s disgruntled expression, despite the fact that it was gone in seconds. You didn’t get this high in the social structure without learning to spot a dissenter. And how to...discourage them.

'I must have been daydreaming this morning when you spoke to me. I’m sure what you were saying wasn’t important.'

Quietly, but loudly enough for a good percentage of the students in the courtyard to hear her, she added. 'It never is.'

Ignoring Harmony’s outraged glare, she continued.

'*If* I had been paying attention, I would have given you some friendly advice. That skirt is *so* last Thursday. Don’t you pay attention to fashion?'

She gestured to the other members of her clique. 'Everyone else has given up on purple. It is *so* not the colour. If you want to be in *my* group you have to get with the program. And *keep* with it! I expect better from you, really!'

The other girls giggled. Cordelia began to walk, certain the girls would follow her. She didn’t bother to check behind her, but was unsurprised when Alice, a fairly new addition, caught up, and began to walk alongside her. The group continued walking, leaving Harmony standing behind, stunned into silence.

Cordelia led her girls to the classroom. As she took her seat, once again surrounded by her avid admirers, she remembered a conversation she’d had with Buffy while that nutty invisible girl was terrorising her.

She’d queried Buffy: ‘You think I'm never lonely because I'm so cute and popular? I don't even know if they like me half the time. People just want to be in the popular zone.’ Buffy had asked her ‘Well, if you feel so alone, then why do you work so hard at being popular? and she’d answered the only way she could. ‘Well, it beats being alone all by yourself.’

Sighing, she turned to nod approval at one of her clique, for some reason or other, and something caught her eye. Buffy and Willow, bent close together, whispering about something or other. They looked so.. friendly.

Cordelia would bet they knew each others deepest darkest secrets. < I do too > she affirmed. < I know Buffy is the Vampire Slayer, and you don’t get much deeper and darker than that. And I know Willow loves Xander. She has since kindergarten, and probably before. It’s just that I can’t talk about the secrets with them. But it’s true. This beats being alone all by myself. >

She tuned back into the conversation, skilfully blocking out the laughter and happiness coming from Willow and Buffy.

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