A/N: Thank you to those people who have followed or reviewed! I hope you've enjoyed reading so far. So as you can see I'm trying to do a chapter from either Regina's or Emma's POV. I'm also taking a few liberties with their ages, namely they need to be of a similar age in this fic. Once again, no beta so all grammatical errors are totally my fault. Let me know what you think!
The first time I met Emma Swan, she was a painfully skinny little waif of a thing. Much different from the Emma I know today, in more ways than one. I can remember it as if it only happened yesterday.
Professor Oaks stood at the front of the class looking up into the gods and waving at the guy who operated the projector to shut it off. He then began explaining the objectives of the assignment he was setting us, and how it was a necessity that we work in pairs. I still groan when I hear him say that even now. I hated partnered assignments and group work. Not because I can't work with other people, and most definitely not because I'm anti-social. I'm a wasp through and through. The only enjoyment my mother ever got out of having me was my ability to become a social butterfly. No, I hated this because I am – was – no am, a bit of a control freak. Well maybe a control freak is too strong a word. I'm a perfectionist. Yes, that's it. I'm a perfectionist. And I have learnt my lesson many times that group work or having to 'buddy up' for an assignment, generally means I end up pulling everyone's weight. I was thinking all that and generally being irritated when my name was called, and I panicked that I'd missed my pairing, until Emma's name swiftly followed.
Now as I said I am fairly sociable. Even in college, despite having not quite grown into my looks, and being entirely too focused on academics, I still went to parties and knew the names of the majority of my dorm. I would even go as far to say that despite being geeky and gangly I was quite popular. So it came as quite a shock that I had not heard of Emma Swan, who according to Professor Oaks was to be my new best friend over the next month as we compiled this assignment. I looked all around me to see if anyone was pointing my direction, or making direct eye contact, but I didn't see anyone. I nudged the guy next to me, and asked if he knew Emma Swan, he shrugged and went back to his doodling. I didn't allow this to deter me. I had been assigned Emma Swan as my partner, and she would not evade me. I began throwing things into my bag so I could catch Professor Oaks and ask for some contact details for the elusive Miss Swan. But as per usual the portly little man who you would never expect to move quite so quickly was making a beeline for the exit before the stampede of students could make it to the doors.
I was out of my seat like a flash, determined to catch up to Professor Oaks. I remember making it outside and being blinded by the sunlight. I will never comprehend why they make auditoriums and lecture halls quite so dark, when students of all kinds are notoriously tired.
Now, remember how I said I was geeky and gangly? Well, I was quite clumsy too. (I learnt poise and grace a few years later.) Which doesn't explain how I managed to empty the entire contents of my book bag onto the concourse, but it helps. I was quite aware that my class was now dispersing in every direction, and my hopes of locating one Emma Swan today, were rapidly becoming slimmer. That twinned with my irritation at having to do group work, annoyance at having dropped my things, and aggravation that instead of helping, people seemed much more inclined to trample me and my things. All so they could skip off merrily into the sunshine and forget all about their English project until two days before it was due in. Well, it all made me snap when a little voice said "Excuse me?"
"What?" I demanded, as the girl looked a little wide eyed and handed me one of the remaining books that was still on the floor.
"You're Regina right?" She asked standing up once more.
Now here's the part where I jumped to conclusions. There was no wonder I hadn't known the girl's name. I had seen her before, but she wasn't the type of person I generally associated with. She was the pretty girl that hung around with the burn-outs and drop-outs. Guilty by association as my mother had often told me. It did not inspire much faith as far as this English project went.
"Emma?" I asked her. She nodded. I tried not to role my eyes at my luck. Honest I did.
For the last few years I have replayed that scene many times. In fact in the last fifteen years it has been replayed over and over again. But more so in this last year. I remember how wrong my assumptions were. How I got an 'A' and a best friend out of that English assignment on Wuthering Heights. And I remember exactly how I managed to destroy all that.
That's the funny thing about dying. It gives you this amazing clarity on life. You finally see what you have done, what you should have done, and what you should do now.