The Highs and Lows of Love

Chapter Four

Gage  

       I watch him exit through the front doors at a brisk, almost angered pace. His head held high and his face  set in a look of anger and hate. I don't even have to be told to know I'm the reason for that pissed off look.  He walks, well, more like storms off, in the direction of the limo parked in front of the school.

      It wasn't your classic, long and black limo you are probably thinking of.  This limo was one of a kind. Custom made, in fact. It was silver in color with navy blue for the trim and handles. It seems to just sparkle in the sun with an almost magic effect. It was a long limo, but compared to others it was a bug car; barely the length of a horse trailer. However these features might make the limo different from others, the most unusual and unique part of the limo would likely be the sticker on the back window of the limo. This sticker was custom made as well, that much was clearly obvious. It had words in print so small, you had to be right up on  the limo in order to read it. Seeing as how I always check things out and be closer to things than I should, I was able to read the sticker one time and it made me wonder who made it. When eligible it read, "If you can read this it means you are closely looking. If you are closely looking, you are illogically thinking. If you are thinking like that, bad and illegal actions are taken. Don't spend your life in jail.... Step Away From The Limo". It sure as heck gets the point across.   

      This was the limo that he was currently walking towards. Seeming as though without even a thought, he enters the limo and slams the door shut. Almost immediately, the vehicle drives off at a moderately fast pace; taking him away from school, and me.
      I bang my head against my steering wheel as I watch him leave. Angry at myself and my stupidity and what it caused. If he didn't hate me before, he sure as Hell does now. No matter what I do or how hard I try, I never get close to him. Only further away. I feel a sudden rush of anger and defense fulfill me.
      "It's not my fault the guy doesn't know how to kid around! He's the one who takes it the wrong way! He's the one who gets in my head!" I start hitting the hood of my car with my hand in anger.  "He's the one who looks so damn cute you can't help but tease! He's the one who made me have a crush on him! It's him, it's all him. Its... aw  who am I kidding. He could never be at fault." I say, the anger quickly fading and giving way  to a feeling of sadness and longing. I have conflicted thoughts and feelings everytime he's around; and when I think about him. Which, since seventh grade, has become a daily habit. Hell, it's become an hourly habit. But I can't  help it. How can I? Even tho he doesn't know it, he is a big part of my life. And as of right now, like probably every other day of our lives, that part of my life hated me. Although I think now he hates me even more.
        "Damnit, why can't he just understand my ways? Why can't he just know how he makes me feel? Why can't I ever buck up the courage to tell him", I moan in defeat. I laugh softly under my breath;
"I could do the "Why" game all day long and still get no where. It's about time I take some damn action.".
With this thought in my mind, I put the stick shift gear in drive and start to head out. As I drive along the road, I smirk to myself; thinking up plans in my mind to get my feelings returned.
                                                                                                                                                                                                     

                                                                                     Curtis

      "Hey Dad, I'm home!", I yell, entering the foyer. My greeting echos throughout the mansion unanswered.
"Dad?" I call out, walking into the living room. Still not receiving an answer; I head to the place he would most likely be. The library. He goes there a lot to do research. He's there more time than not, as a matter of fact.
       I walk towards our mansion's library in curiosity; wondering if I would find him. I don't call out his name again when I enter the Library, it might be our library but its still a library after all.  I look around the library without finding him. I frown when I realize I haven't seen a trace of him.
      "He's not home, Sir." A voice says behind me. I turn around to see my butler Reed. I've known him all my life; he's been more of a father figure to me than my real one has. I look up to Reed. and I'm not even embarrassed to say that he is my best friend. I can go to him for anything; I tell him everything; and he will listen with understanding and without judging me. He's more like family to me than he is a butler.