Post by moonwick on Nov 30, 2006 14:26:34 GMT -5
Emily had been sixteen years old the first time she met Guy Dawson. He was a quiet youth, unusually polite and smart for his age; no one really noticed him, but he noticed everything. Guy sat in the backs of classrooms, never saying a word. No one ever talked to him or asked him questions. It was simply accepted as the way things were. But one day everything changed. One day Emily DuPrae dropped her pencil on the floor, and Guy Dawson picked it up.
Their eyes met for the very first time, a direct connection between one person and another. Such connections are sometimes dangerous, dear readers, and often render us vulnerable. In the depths of Emily’s chocolaty eyes, Mr. Dawson saw warmth, playfulness, and curiosity. And in the depths of his crystal blue ones, she saw intelligence, strength, and clarity. The gaze lasted only a moment, but that single moment was all it took. The damage had been done.
“Thanks,” Emily whispered, smiling. Guy replied with a stiff nod, though his insides were flooding with a rush he had never felt before.
At the end of the day when classes were finished and Emily closed her locker door, she was terrifically startled by Guy’s presence behind it. “Hi,” he said quietly. “I’m Guy Dawson.”
Emily, recovering from the little scare he had just given her, replied in a similar fashion. “I’m Emily DuPrae.”
“I know who you are,” Guy explained. She blushed, embarrassed that she could not say the same. A shy smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. The sight was enough to melt the iciest of hearts, and that’s exactly what it did.
“Can I walk you home?” he asked confidently.
“Yes,” she answered.
After that day, the two spent more and more time together. Many thought they made an odd pair. Emily was so radiant and well-liked, constantly surrounded by friends. Guy, on the other hand, was far more reserved…a bit of a loner, really. They were complimentary to one another, but at heart they were the same. It wasn’t long before they began dating. Emily enjoyed being around Guy; he was gentle and they often talked late into the night about politics, religion, music, friends, life, and irony. Whenever she had a problem or a bad day, he was right there beside her, and for that, she appreciated him immensely. Guy, on the other hand, was head-over-heels obsessed with her, and she didn’t even seem to notice it. His lust drove him wild, but he was careful to control it. Whenever they kissed, he was the first to pull away. Emily worried about him, but had no idea how much he wanted her. She only knew that she didn’t want him to be alone, because she was sure he was a wonderful person. Guy hid his affections too well; Emily did not suspect a thing. She loved him like her best friend, nothing more or less. What she did not realize was that Guy wanted something more.
On her seventeenth birthday, Emily came home to the sight of her mother sobbing, wrapped tightly in her father’s arms.
“Dad, what happened? Why is Mom crying?” she asked, immediately filled with concern.
“Emily, we need to talk,” he said in a very serious tone. His eyes were red and watery as he wiped a hand across his face and then through his hair. Her mother pulled her face away from her father’s shirt, which had dark, wet spots on it, and gazed at Emily, sniffling, before bursting into fresh tears.
The girl’s eyes grew wide and shifted from one parent to another. “About what? Please tell me what’s wrong. It’s not…it’s not Nana is it?” By this time, she, too, was beginning to cry. Whatever had happened, it couldn’t have been good, and she hated to see her parents in so much pain.
“No,” her father replied.
“Is it something I’ve done? Is this because I didn’t call last night when I went to Laura’s house? I’m sorry, Mom, I fell asleep! I meant to call…”
“It’s about Guy, Emily. We don’t want you to see him anymore.”
“What? But why? Last month when you met him, you said he was great,” she responded, confused.
“We need to talk,” her father repeated.
Their eyes met for the very first time, a direct connection between one person and another. Such connections are sometimes dangerous, dear readers, and often render us vulnerable. In the depths of Emily’s chocolaty eyes, Mr. Dawson saw warmth, playfulness, and curiosity. And in the depths of his crystal blue ones, she saw intelligence, strength, and clarity. The gaze lasted only a moment, but that single moment was all it took. The damage had been done.
“Thanks,” Emily whispered, smiling. Guy replied with a stiff nod, though his insides were flooding with a rush he had never felt before.
At the end of the day when classes were finished and Emily closed her locker door, she was terrifically startled by Guy’s presence behind it. “Hi,” he said quietly. “I’m Guy Dawson.”
Emily, recovering from the little scare he had just given her, replied in a similar fashion. “I’m Emily DuPrae.”
“I know who you are,” Guy explained. She blushed, embarrassed that she could not say the same. A shy smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. The sight was enough to melt the iciest of hearts, and that’s exactly what it did.
“Can I walk you home?” he asked confidently.
“Yes,” she answered.
After that day, the two spent more and more time together. Many thought they made an odd pair. Emily was so radiant and well-liked, constantly surrounded by friends. Guy, on the other hand, was far more reserved…a bit of a loner, really. They were complimentary to one another, but at heart they were the same. It wasn’t long before they began dating. Emily enjoyed being around Guy; he was gentle and they often talked late into the night about politics, religion, music, friends, life, and irony. Whenever she had a problem or a bad day, he was right there beside her, and for that, she appreciated him immensely. Guy, on the other hand, was head-over-heels obsessed with her, and she didn’t even seem to notice it. His lust drove him wild, but he was careful to control it. Whenever they kissed, he was the first to pull away. Emily worried about him, but had no idea how much he wanted her. She only knew that she didn’t want him to be alone, because she was sure he was a wonderful person. Guy hid his affections too well; Emily did not suspect a thing. She loved him like her best friend, nothing more or less. What she did not realize was that Guy wanted something more.
On her seventeenth birthday, Emily came home to the sight of her mother sobbing, wrapped tightly in her father’s arms.
“Dad, what happened? Why is Mom crying?” she asked, immediately filled with concern.
“Emily, we need to talk,” he said in a very serious tone. His eyes were red and watery as he wiped a hand across his face and then through his hair. Her mother pulled her face away from her father’s shirt, which had dark, wet spots on it, and gazed at Emily, sniffling, before bursting into fresh tears.
The girl’s eyes grew wide and shifted from one parent to another. “About what? Please tell me what’s wrong. It’s not…it’s not Nana is it?” By this time, she, too, was beginning to cry. Whatever had happened, it couldn’t have been good, and she hated to see her parents in so much pain.
“No,” her father replied.
“Is it something I’ve done? Is this because I didn’t call last night when I went to Laura’s house? I’m sorry, Mom, I fell asleep! I meant to call…”
“It’s about Guy, Emily. We don’t want you to see him anymore.”
“What? But why? Last month when you met him, you said he was great,” she responded, confused.
“We need to talk,” her father repeated.