(if you guys were wondering Cheveyo's name is pronounced Ca-vay-o. Just thought I would add that. I like to choose the names of my characters by their origin. I don't know why I just do. If you've read Sensual Meets Sinister, I give the characters from Africa African names and people from other places names from their origin.)

I pulled up into my parking space at school, and just as I expected, Sara was standing there waiting for me. Her brown hairblew in the wind and she stared at me with dark green eyes. I sighed and got out of the car. "Another dream?" She asked giving me a sympathetic look. I could only nod. She walked over and wrapped an arm around me. "It will get better OK?" She said.

"I've had the same dream for twelve years, Sara." I said blankly. "If things were going to get better, I wouldn't watch him die every night." She fell silent and we walked towards the building. Just as I was about to open the door someone pushed it closed.

I rolled my eyes when I saw who it was. Ethan Brown, the hot jock that every girl AND guy drools over. I mean yea he's cute and all. Tall, brown hair, blue eyes, nice body, there's only one problem. He's not Cheveyo. Not one person in this world compares to him. If I can't have the man of my dreams then I don't want one at all. God, I'm crazy to think that beautiful man could ever exist.

"Shawn!" He said. "I've looked all over for you!" I rolled my eyes again and looked over at Sara, she was giggling uncontrollably. She know's how I feel about other boys and she know's how I can make them feel about themselves.

"What do you want Ethan?" I asked. I made sure he knows I'm not really in the mood for his crap.

"I've wanted you to be my girl for the past two years." He said with a cocky grin.

"Its been two years and you still can't see I'm not interested?" I laughed. He pushed himself against me.

"Come on baby," He whispered in my ear. "Stop playing hard to get." I pushed him from me.

"I'm not playing hard to get," I said. "I just don't want you or else in this town. All you want is sex so you can run back and tell your little friends about it." I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not one of your little dumb blonds who fall for you crap."

He leaned in close to my face. So close that I could smell cigarette smoke on his breath. "Youre such a bitch." He spit before he turned and walked off. I laughed aloud.

"I'm a good one!" I yelled back.

"That was so funny!" Sara laughed. "You pissed him off so bad!" That's what happens with all the guys who approach me, and I'm approached by a lot of guys. I'm far from an ugly person. My great-great-great grandparents were Cherokee Indians. As my family mated with different races, the gene died down. Somehow when I was born, I came out looking like my ancestors. My parents have white skin, blond hair, and blue eyes.

Me on the other hand, I'm extremely tanned and I look exactly like a full-blooded Cherokee. I look exactly as I do in my dreams. I'm tall and curvy and exotic looking. I don't understand how and why I turned out this way but let me tell you, my parents freaked when I was born! They thought the doctor switched her baby. How many white people do you know who wouldn't spazz if they gave birth to a child with black hair, brown eyes, and copper-colored skin?

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