Rachel Green Novels & Stories

Again, my face is flaming, I look everywhere but him, his words were beautiful, and if I have come here willingly to mingle and to forget Abed, then this photographer fixing his glasses and his hesitant smile would not be a bad idea. “Connor Law, more than a pleasure to meet you.” He stretches his hand out, I hesitate, wondering if he knew me or not, and if he knew about my scandal, and what it would mean. “Rachel... Rachel Greene.” I say, waiting for realization to fill his eyes, make an excuse before running away, but his eyes never light up, instead he tests out the name on his tongue. I put his camera in his outstretched hand, before walking out of the wat

"What do you mean? Rachel? What is it?" Rachel gulped, "This is my fertile period," she showed the app on her cellphone. Nicholas glared in surprise. ***

Rachel reached out, her hand trembling as it hovered over her mother's, willing her to understand. Mrs. Smith's eyes searched Rachel's, looking for the truth in her words. Rachel could see the doubt, the fear that she was being naive or manipulated. "I know you mean well," Rachel continued, "but I can't ignore what's happening between us. It's more than just a fling or a rebellion. It's real, and it's powerful, and it's terrifying." Rachel's voice grew stronger with each word, her conviction unwavering.

The Rachel Weekend as it’s become known by me, Dani and Katie, turns out to just be the start. The new Scott has been unleashed. The weekend after the Rachel weekend, he has a date with a photographer called Jenny. It lasts for several days. The Saturday after that, there’s a gym with a Pilates instructor called Leanne. She only lasts one night, but then he’s back with Rachel. But only in the Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. By Saturday, a graphic designer called Chloe pops out of nowhere. She stays until Monday, when Rachel appears again. But only for one night, because he’s back with Jenny again the following evening, while I’m left to fight off phone calls from others. And so it goes on.

But I definitely did not eye-rape him. "I am so sorry." I mumbled. Is the universe against me or something? "I wasn't looking and-" Okay, maybe I did a little bit of eye-raping. I mean, who could blame me? He's gorgeous. He has sandy blonde hair with some brown highlights. His face is just... pure perfection. Then I realised something that made me frown. Something that made memories of him come back. His eyes were a shade of forest green. Forest freaking green. Ashton. Oh god. I'm not even kidding, I am going to cry.

She looked the richest too. Though the note of sarcasm in her voice was incredibly irritating, Rachel managed a polite smile as she replied, “Uber is fine.” “Rachel, Wennishe is making a pile on Periscope now. She’s the most famous anchorwoman on that app!” exclaimed a chubby girl. She was gazing at Wennishe with total admiration. Rachel recognized her. She was Mia Irvine, the girl who sat in front of her in her ninth grade. “Is that so? Congratulations, Wennishe,” Rachel calmly responded.

" Sorry, we just thought we should surprise you. Hope you don't mind" " Nah, it's cool by me, Rachel?" Rachel stared at me probably wondering if I was being sarcastic or not. " No... I don't mind" " Cool let's go" Janelle said as she rummaged through Rachel's fridge for some fruits and vegetables, they were all vegetarians. I wasn't exactly a vegetarian, but I was trying to become one.

I ate slowly, the taste feeling strange. Halfway through, the sound of the doorbell chime echoed. I looked up casually. And then my fork froze mid-air. Rachel walked in with that innocent smile in her face. My chest squeezed so hard I almost couldn’t breathe. She looked radiant. Beautiful. She was wearing a pink gown, the fabric hugging her curves, the hemline high above her knees. Her hair bounced softly as she walked, her lips shining faintly under the light. I almost stood up immediately, ready to confront her. To ask her why she left. To demand answers.

she said innocently, like she hadn’t just maneuvered the seating chart like a horny cruise director. “Nope,” I said, dry. “Not at all.” That left Dr. Cole to take the spot next to me—his tall, quiet, brooding presence pressing in as he settled beside me. Adam slid in across from him, right next to Rachel, who was already twirling a napkin between her fingers and batting her lashes like she’d been hired by Cupid Inc. “So Adam,” Rachel began, her voice pitched a little higher, “do you work out, or are you just naturally built like a Greek statue?”

We’d barely stepped into the lobby when a familiar saccharine voice dripped with false surprise. "Oh my god. Avery Emerson?" Rachel. Riley’s favorite sycophant—a social climber with more plastic in her face than the agency’s furniture. She leaned against the reception desk, her designer dress probably costing more than the security guard’s annual salary. Her lip curled in a smirk. "Slumming it without Daddy’s credit cards, Avery?" Savannah’s grip on my arm tightened. "Ignore the rabid chihuahua." But Rachel slithered closer, her perfume choking the air. "Riley told me all about your little tantrum. Honestly, it’s pathetic. She’s sick, and you’re still jealous because—"