Hello again! Thank you for the reviews and comments – defiantly taken on board! I have to apologise in advance for any grammatical areas – not my strong point admittedly but I am defiantly working on it. Also as I come from the UK the 'grades' are called 'years' and in this section of the story George is in year 12 making him about 16-17 years old. So shall we…?
Chapter Two – I can't love you like that
Chantelle Peterson was my first love. Does that sentence shock you? Well it shocks me too now that I have had time to reflect over the years. She was a year above me, beautiful and intelligent – everything a man would want in a girl. She was quick too, never a dull moment in her classes, or so I heard. Basically every boy in the entire school fancied her but I was the lucky one because she picked me!
"George!" Chantelle shouted from the other side of the hallway. I didn't look round as I assumed she was talking to someone else.
"George!" She shouted again and this time I realised she wanted to speak to me.
"Me?" I mouthed silently. She nodded and waded her way through the mass of people heading in the opposite direction.
"I've been trying to catch you for ages!" She's exaggerating because I have sonic senses, and if she was following me I would have known.
"What do you want…um?"
"Chantelle" She finishes for me in a big smile. "I just want to ask you if you would like to go out sometime with me?"
"Oh" The thought had never really crossed my mind before, but now I feel this sudden surge of emotion compelling me to accept. "Sure" I reply.
"Great" She smiles broadly and then leans in to kiss me on the cheek.
I blush and she smiles.
And that is how it was – the beginning of our relationship. Although, even at the time I knew it was fake and unnatural to me, I felt an obligation to Chantelle to stick it out until term was over. We ended it four months after our encounter in the hallway and in a way it made me stronger. I realised one day that even though I loved Chantelle I wasn't in love with her and we both saw sense after a while.
She went on to study Law for a University degree and finally was taken onto the books of a top city law firm – I think it was called Randall and Son's but I wouldn't bet on it. We've kept in contact over the years, mostly at Christmas but it's still nice to hear how she is getting on in her high-flying career.
She taught me what it was to love. Strangely, as we never experienced it fully together it was all the more clear to me when I met Emerico that he was the one. She told me to be true to myself and the feelings inside me – something no one had ever encouraged me to do before.
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I met Emerico whilst enjoying a summer holiday deep in the Spanish countryside. He was a local farmer and I spent many days watching him work up a sweat from the comfort of my lodge's balcony. One day he noticed me and took a chance to talk to me and we connected instantly. I loved him from that moment on – it didn't matter about his mood swings because he made up for it whenever he lost control.
/
"Emerico wake up, it's time for work" I gently apply pressure to his side to wake him. He stirs but doesn't open his eyes. "Emerico…" I whine. He's not doing this today!
"Go AWAY!" He shouts finally.
"No, you have to get up now" I protest. I want remain calm but his moods sway my patience.
"SHUT UP!" He springs out of bed and throws me across the room. I land with my back sliding down the wall. I want to cry but I know it would only make things worse.
Emerico needs help…
