Blown by the Wind -Fairytales, Book 1 [ON HOLD]

Chapter Nine- Déjà vu, much?

Chapter 9- Déjà vu, much?

Ria's POV

For the next few days Chloe and Tim were joined at the hip, and texting when they weren't. There was no googly eyes, as such, just long glances that could be interpreted wrong to an unpractised eye. Not that I was practiced, just spend enough time with Emily and you'd eventually pick up theses little signs. Tim had grown overprotective of Chloe, who in turn, has depended more on him, for reasons the rest of us are still don't know or understand.

Alex had become slightly withdrawn. It wasn't obvious, to give the girl some credit. She was no Emily, pining away loudly for a lost love. There was no indication of her inner turmoil. None; except the weary looks she'd give Tim when Chloe distracted him. Those moments when a smile would light his face, and both warm and hurt her unintentionally. If you paid close enough attention, you could see the emotions filling her eyes. Alex would just turn and start up conversation, presumably a distraction. With a "Guys, have you heard..." she'd turn her mind off and forget.

-

 Standing in the dead of night, at a park of all the places, I felt tired, despondent. The cool night breeze at my back; pale, translucent moonlight illuminating my world. There was something missing. I felt empty. My being heavy, dragging my subconscious through murky waters. The flimsy dress I was wearing was doing nothing to protect me. Whisps of my hair floated around my face in the wind. I brushed them back mindlessly. I was waiting for someone. Someone important. I heard the rustle of dead leaves at my back. I whirled around. A figure stood in the shadows, only a mop of dark hair visible. I smiled. I knew exactly who it was; the one I was waiting for. I started to run, getting closer and closer. Then everything went blank.

-

I awoke, legs tangled in the sheets and drenched in sweat. Falling back on my pillow, I sighed in relief. It was over. The dream plagued me. Taunting me. My subconscious knew something I didn't, it seemed. I really, really, really want to know who it was.

-

At school the next day, to my complete shock, I walked in to see Emily smiling happily at Chloe and Tim, who were holding hands and looking suspiciously like a... couple? No. It couldn't be. Chloe wouldn't do that to Alex, but maybe Chloe just didn't notice.

Emily glanced up.

"Ria!" she exclaimed excitedly.  "Guess what's happened?" singing the last word, she looked at me expectantly.  Chloe and Tim looked up from the floor.

"Well, by the look of the things, by your hand-holding-ness, and by Emily's elated face, I draw the conclusion that you two are a couple, and Emily's just dying to tell a certain someone." Wow, that took breath.

"Yes! Yes! That's right. Oh goodie how horrible is this going to be? I feel something skin to sympathy, right here." Emily confirms, gesturing to her left breast during that last comment.

"Ew. Stop, just stop." I say. It didn't matter, after a few minutes Emily spots her 'bot-bot' friends, as Alex calls them, and runs off saying:

"G! Jordan! Oh My God. Guess what just happened?!" the bot-bots are a year older than us, and a result of Emily refusing to let go of her childhood friends. Personally, they scare me, a lot. They swear, are mean, and just like Emily in every way I've seen. That's probably where she got her more bad habits. But looking at her, hugging the.... Redhead, I'm guessing? It's hard to see from here, I see that they are her kindred, her one-of-a-kind people. As she moves on to hug the brunette, chattering excitedly, I feel Chloe and Tim drawing nearer.

"So, the bot-bots, eh?" Chloe addresses me. I shrug in response. "The bot-bot's are Emily's older friends, in case you were wondering." She continues, talking to Tim now.

"Hmm. She seems as happy as I've ever seen her." His reply makes sense. Emily hasn't exactly warmed up to him yet, so it was a intricate dance of snide remarks, coy glances and frosty words. She reminds me of a dark faery at times like these. Floating brown hair, high-pitched laughter. It's no wonder, really, why half of our grade is scared shitless of her.

I think I've had enough of this lovey-dovey fest. Making an excuse about my water bottle, I walk away. Walking past the science building, reception, and toward the bathroom, I was calm in that bored way. But I have accepted this deep boredom, made my peace with it. I feel virtually nothing. Why? Maybe it's just now. I know I am not emotionless, at least. I love my family. But that's the thin, fraying thread I'm hanging onto, and it scares me.

But one thing I definitely didn't expect was a hand gripping mine to promptly clapping over my mouth. Déjà vu, much?     

Pic of Tim to the side.