Romance Fan Fiction ❯ Tutoring Love ❯ Deja Vu ( Chapter 2 )

<Dillon>

 

I glanced at myself in the mirror. The reflection showed my perfect body, my perfect smile, and my perfect glossy brown hair.

 

I hated it

 

I tried to frown and mess up my hair a bit, but with my looks, I could have woken up with bad breath, and smelly odors as well, and I would still have 5 girls waiting to walk me to my first class when I arrived at school.

 

I sighed, there was no way of escaping this evil curse that maybe others would have loved, but of which I loathed. There's no such thing as perfect, something I had wanted to believe, but now, it was something I was not sure of. The idea that somebody HAD to have a flaw was slipping away. My heart reached out, desperately wanting to grab a hold of it, but my mind pushed it farther and farther away. That's how it was, my mind and heart, enemies in an epic battle, they could not agree on anything. One day, I will be losing one of them; my mind, or my heart.

 

My clothes were on the floor, and I picked them up and threw them quickly over my head and through my arms and legs. As I ran down the twisted spiral stairs, I yelled to see if anybody was up yet, or rather, if they were still there.

 

“Mom? Bonnie?”

 

Bonnie was our maid. I think she's 23, maybe 24. The guys would sometimes hit on her, but I knew that they were joking around, and that Bonnie was okay with their perverted jokes.

 

“Yes Mr. Dillon.” Bonnie replied in her squeaky quiet voice. “Your breakfast is on the table.”

 

“Bonnie, must I say this again? You will refer me as Mr. Dillon when hell freezes over

 

“Yes, I'm sorry Miste-…um.…Dillon.” Her cheeks rose a few degrees above an average temperature, and she went to stand by the wall to watch me eat.

 

My left eyebrow arched up, and I waited patiently while she finally clued in, and sat down in the chair across from me, and the rest of her face went above normal temperature as well.

 

I chuckled lightly when Bonnie's face blushed even more as she picked up a fork to join me in breakfast.

 

“So, did you get my English essay done?” I asked Bonnie innocently.

 

“I-um-wasn't aware-sorry-last night-was busy…” She kept on stumbling over her tongue on words, so I decided to spare her the torture.

 

“I was just messing with you Bonnie!” I laughed loudly, and she blushed into a deeper red.

 

The clock showed 8:30. Time to leave. I grabbed the keys to my sleek and silver ride and I took the last bite of my homemade blueberry muffin.

 

There was no need to leave so early, as I could get there in less than 3 minutes, but it was always nice to have the early moments of peace to myself.

 

The sounds of dishes clattering together and breaking were unheard. I sighed, somehow missing that sound in the morning that all of our previous maids have made constantly. All there was was the tiny clinking sound that Bonnie's heels made on the hard marble floor.

 

Bonnie dressed casually, just like we had instructed her to. However, along with those T-shirts and jeans, were these high-heels that could have been worn to prom. I mean, sure, I understand that girls have a soft spot for shoes, but when you spend the day cleaning a huge house, who would want to have blisters and sprained ankles?

 

My stomach grumbled, and I gave in, grabbing my last bite of my muffin, again.

 

The monster in my stomach growled. Okay, so maybe not the last bite after all. I brought the rest of my muffin with me to tame the creature, and I felt the growling turn into a purring as the monster was fed.

 

My textbooks waited for me on the white kitchen top counter. I grabbed them with the hand that was holding my keys so my precious muffin would not crumble to death from the smothering textbooks.

 

I walked my uneven steps out towards the door.

 

“FUCK!”

 

I jumped back in, hopping on the one foot that wasn't covered in shit.

 

Yeah, you heard right, I was careless enough to step in kibbles from three days ago that came out the other end.

 

Yep, dog shit.

 

And just when I thought that nothing could have been worse…

 

“Dude, since when did you become gay and give mud baths to your feet?

 

I knew that voice. Hopefully, he was alone. I made a silent prayer with my eyes closed.

 

“Jesse, you retard, maybe he was hoping to keep that to himself and turn you gay as well so you guys could get married and take mud baths together…alone….with rose petals…and wine….and seduce each other,” said a different voice.

 

Damn it. God went out to lunch.

 

“Remind me to teach you guys how to use sarcasm so that it would sound right the next time it comes out of one of your bitchy mouths.” I replied, turning as I did so, and hoping that the contagious blushing I got from Bonnie faded away.

 

“Yeah, a lesson from the pro, huh?” Nick got down on his knees and threw his arms up dramatically. “Oh great one! Teach us how to use the wonderful words of irony! Teach us, the young grasshoppers how to defeat evil words!”

 

I walked towards my vehicle and casually leaned against it. My eyes rolled, and I replied to his outburst.

 

“Get a sponge.”

 

“You want me to wash your car?” Nick seemed genuinely confused.

 

“No, I want you to wipe off the dripping sarcasm that you poured on our driveway.”

 

Jesse finally stepped in the two man conversation. “Dude, let's get going before Mrs. Locksworth gives us-the glare-. I swear, if looks could kill, I would have been dead 500 times now.”

 

Yeah, my mom's not a people person to any of my friends, especially girls. Compared to my dad though…she can seem quite a social lady.

 

Mom shoots death glares, which can prove to be quite literal.

 

Two weeks ago, poor Michael went upstairs to get me for the soccer game. That retard. Next thing I knew, I heard mom's voice demanding why the hell Michael intruded her house.

 

At that moment, I heard thumping, and I raced from the kitchen. (Yeah, I was in the kitchen the whole time. Isn't it sad that Michael's such a dumb ass? I practically live in the kitchen!)

 

I arrived just in time to see Michael fall down the rest of the stairs.

 

My mouth hung in horror.

 

I looked up towards the top of the spiraling stairs. What did I see? Daggers. Shooting out dangerously from my mother's eyes.

 

Wow, so looks really can kill.

 

Don't worry, Michael wasn't dead I'm guessing that he fainted at the sight of eyes that held weapons, and fell down.

 

However, it's been two weeks, and he still hadn't woken up from his coma…

 

“So when do we see our buddy Michael again?” Nick asked us as he slammed my door shut.

 

That dude sure can read minds…

 

“Uhhh…don't know. Whenever.” I replied.

 

My car paused briefly at the red stop sign, and I spun the steering wheel to the left.

 

MY best friends, Jesse Gill and Nick Bjerke chatted with each other, knowing that I'm not good at multitasking.

 

Yeah, I'm a retard aren't I? Sometimes the air would stop flowing in my lungs, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

 

“Shit, I think the parking lot's full again.” Nick told me, breaking apart from his one on one conversation with Jesse…ugh…that sounded wrong…

 

“No prob., you guys get off here, I'll park.” I let out the breath that I never knew I was holding.

 

“Later dude.” Jesse called out to me when they got out.

 

Nick gave me a soldier salute before I drove away.

 

I drove 2 blocks and parked where I usually parked, only to find a silver motorcycle in my spot.

 

Hmmm…that's weird; everyone knows that I always park here…

 

So I drove to the spot behind it, only to find someone getting out of the red car that was parked there.

 

Whoa…sweet ride.

 

I turned the engine off when I finished parking behind the red car. I was about to inspect the silver motorcycle when I saw a girl.

 

Okay, so, there's nothing wrong with that, I see girls everyday. But it's not exactly normal to find one who just collapsed on the street for no apparent reason.

 

My steps were cautious as I approached her, almost as if she was a scared puppy and I didn't want to frighten her away.

 

So you're probably wondering why Prince Charming isn't running to go rescue his damsel in distress.

 

Well, first of all, I'm not Prince Charming.

 

Second, I would never want to be.

 

I was about to kneel down to examine this mysterious girl, but déjà vu happened. Once again, the silver motorcycle caught my eye.

 

Why am I so obsessed with that vehicle? It's nothing special.

 

As if to prove myself wrong, my feet stumbled past the body on the hard pavement.

 

My eyes went over the motorcycle, and something triggered my memory. What brought it completely back though was when my eyes landed on the license plate.

 

The last time I saw this silver object was two years ago in a dark and stormy night…okay…so it wasn't stormy, but it was at night, so that certainly made it a dark night.

 

Even though I was partially drunk that night, I remembered the girl. That girl. She had tears down her hidden face and her body was sprawled on the cold cement.

 

I never knew I'd see this motorcycle again…