The Never-ending Repetition of Love

The Never-ending Repition of Love Chapter Four

The sounds of my shrill screams echoed through my mind and became distant. Instead the penetrating ringing of the bell caused me to jump from my seat. Sitting up, I gasped for breath.  Clutching to the sleek, black table top of the desk I fought to not fall from my seat. Shaking my head, I tightly closed my eyes. Images of the dream flashed through my mind. New York City, the 1920s, a dimly lit smoke filled club, gun shots, and…Daniel. I dreamed of him again. Why? I couldn’t seem to put it together. Why did I keep dreaming of someone that I had never met before? It made absolutely no sense. The dream had been so real, just like the last one. I could still remember the pain of the rough, scratchy alley bricks on my exposed back. I could still remember the smell of the dingy night club. I could, above all things, still remember the feel of being in Daniel’s embrace, the warmth of his kiss. But he had, died. In the dream he’d been shot. Shaking my head I reached up and placed my head in my hands, only to pull them back and find them soaked in water. Reaching back up to my face again I found that it was drenched in tears. I was crying and I hadn’t even realized it. In my dream I had been crying. Just thinking of how bad it had hurt when I watched Daniel get gunned down just made more tears want to fall. Even now, just thinking about it hurt, like I had lost my other half. Vigorously wiping my eyes I looked around the classroom noticing that I was the only one still there. Quickly packing my stuff up and double checking that I had dried my eyes I made my way towards my locker. 

Reaching my locker I dialed the combination with a shaky hand. Throwing everything inside haphazardly, and grabbing my lunch, I took a moment to get myself under control. This was beyond crazy. I was having dreams about people and places that I had never even met and could possibly never of been too. No matter how real they were I just needed to shake them off and do my best to forget about it. Taking a deep, steadying breath I closed the door. Only to jump back in shock from the figure that was leaning behind my locker door. Jumping back in surprise I clutched at my chest. Standing there with a posture that oozed confidence was an all too handsome and familiar face.

“Victor, you scared me,” I said still clutching at my chest.  I watched as he stood to his full height, which meant he was a good foot taller than me. His striking hazel eyes shone with amusement as he looked at me, and they were highlighted even more so by his hazel, honey golden hair. It had an unruly curl to it that he seemed to pull off flawlessly. His full lips spread into a wide grin showing a row of brilliantly white teeth. He was handsome enough as it was but his smile was only accented more so by his distinguished dimple in the middle of his chin. Mix it all together and there in front of me stood Victor Collister, also known as the most popular kid in school.

“Sorry about that,” he said in a smoother than silk voice. “Where are you headed?” he asked.

“Lunch,” I said.

“Care for some company?” he asked giving me a light smirk, as if daring me to say no.

Shrugging my shoulders I said, “Sure.”

I turned towards the direction of the cafeteria and started making my way there, noticing that Victor was by my side. I didn’t really find it all that awkward that the most popular guy in school was walking me to lunch, for a few different reasons. One, because even though Victor was high school royalty, I had known him since I was 10 years old. Victor happens to be not only high school royalty but American royalty, or as close to royalty as can be here in America. That’s because Victor’s dad just so happens to be my dad’s boss. Yeah, that’s right; Victor’s dad is Will, Mr. President, or William Collister; take your pick. Since the time that my dad started working for Will I’ve known Victor. I can still remember our ‘play dates’ when we were younger which normally consisted of us running through the halls of the White House and attempting to out smart the secret service staff. And just so you know, that is a battle that you can’t win, trust me I’ve tried. Two, even though me and Victor have a ‘past’ together, which mainly consists of things like finger paints and hide and seek, we still talk all the time. Even though we aren’t on the same level popularity wise doesn’t mean that I don’t ever see Victor. It’s quite the opposite, and I don’t just mean inside school. In fact just last week we both worked on our Algebra II homework in the oval office while both our dads went over the best course of action on how to lower the level of unemployment in the country. And the third reason why I am completely and utterly unfazed by the mere presence of Victor when most girls’ knees would be threatening to give out on them, and probably the most important reason, is because I know the true Victor. Yes undoubtedly he is handsome, striking, popular, athletic, has a bright future ahead, and more; but I know that there is a completely different person underneath it all. I guess I noticed it when we were younger. The first time I remember it was when we were eleven and the prime minister from Nigeria and his daughter were visiting at the White House. His little girl was just a year younger than us and you could tell that she was completely out of her comfort zone. So I decided to try and ask her play, to make her feel better, something I knew my dad would really be happy that I’d done. But before I could get a word out Victor came up behind me and steered me out of the room. “What are you doing Emmy?” he had asked with wide eyes. “Asking her to play with us,” I had said. “Don’t do that!” he whispered. I didn’t understand why so when I asked he had said, “Because she’s different. She’s not from here, so she’s weird. And I don’t like weird people. Come on let’s go down to the kitchen and get some cookies and milk.” Even at the time I knew that the words Victor had used were harsh and wrong. And since that time he hadn’t gotten any better. Victor puts on a good show for his dad, the public, the media, but I knew. I knew that underneath that label that basically screamed ‘future prom king’ and ‘upcoming Harvard grad’ was a selfish, conceded, player and I knew better than to get overly excited about a guy like Victor. I never really gave Victor a second glance at school. I would always smile and talk to him when he spoke to me but other than that I left our childhood past where it was, in the past. I had no intentions of unearthing it.