Lean On You (DNF) Book 2

Picture Perfect

They always said that pictures could tell a thousand words. So what did these ones say? What story did they tell the audience? Well, for one, the pictures foretold a love story. A story in which was older than time itself, two souls, both very lost in their own ways, coming together to find the light they had long since lacked. It was a simple story really but weaved into the pictures and the words they told, a thread of tragedy had been sewed. 
 
It wasn't sewed in by either soul, no not at all. The thread was handcrafted by the universe to bring misery into both of their lives, to test them. To see if they were truly meant for one another.
 
And the universe was right. Clay and George were meant to be. 
 
Or so it thought. 
 
So tell me, if these two lost souls were really meant to be, why was Clay sitting alone in his room. The curtains were drawn shut, the door locking him away from whatever was outside. Why were the pictures telling Clay a vastly different story than his own reality? 
 
The first photo he was looking at was the first one they ever took. The football game. Clay relished in the memory of holding George that night, and word vomiting every little detail about football he could. In the moment, at the game, the pain of not being able to play had completely vanished. Because if it was not for that incident that broke Clay's foot, he might not have ever met George. As he thought about it in detail, a phantom pain from the broken limb started to numb his foot. 
 
A somber smile parted Clay's lips. Was this truly the only way he could look at George now? George rarely ever seemed to be waiting at the phone. It was ironic. Clay was homesick and yet he was sitting in his house. Didn't they say home is where the heart is? Well, Clay's heart was several hundred miles away. 
 
A hearty sigh filled the otherwise silent room. The next picture was taken on that hill, back on that day that was nothing short of a fairytale. This photo was just of George, leaning against the tree with his nose shoved in the picture book Clay had gotten him. How did George manage to look so beautiful without even trying? The ginger rays of light that emanated off of George's seemingly perfect skin. If angels had indeed existed, Clay was lucky enough to capture a photo of one. 
 
A soft knock sounding from outside of Clay's door dragged his ass out of his fantasy and back into the harsh reality where George was no longer beside him. The words caught in Clay's throat as the door opened, revealing Eliza. In the past few weeks, Eliza had chopped off her chocolate brown hair into a pixie cut and was in the process of dying it blue. It was currently a very unnatural blonde color. 
 
If having one little sister wasn't enough, Eliza's presence in the house added to the chaos. It was like a permanent sleepover, completed by but not limited to three a.m. musical sing-alongs and violent arguments over fictional characters. 
 
"Yes..?" Clay spoke meekly as Eliza entered. She narrowed her eyes at him, seeing past him almost instantly. 
 
"So I have a question for you." Eliza sniffled. 
 
"Okay-"
 
"Who's Tommy?" Eliza asked. 
 
A stifled sigh of relief exited Clay's nose. "He's a sophomore this year, football captain I think." 
 
"Okay because Drista is adamant about bullying him. If he's a football player then I completely approve of harassing him." Eliza smiled, bounding further into the room like the noisy little girl she was.  High school started for the girls in about a week, and apparently they already had plans. "Whatcha doing?" Eliza pressed, leaning over Clay's bed and looking at the contents on it. 
 
"Looking at photos," Clay muttered. That was a key difference between the two Founder siblings. George was fairly meek, Eliza however... was the word shy even in her vocabulary?! 
 
"I'm assuming you haven't heard from him either." Eliza backed away with a shrug. 
 
"Either?"
 
"Oh yeah, he's probably in one of those periods of time where he just doesn't acknowledge anything else, other than his work." Eliza wiped her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. 
 
"That does sound like him." Clay leaned back, stretching out his arms in the process. 
 
"It's like I know my brother or something." Liz snickered. "Anyways, when are we going to go see him?"
 
Clay looked up. "Whenever he's free, honestly."
 
"Oh. So never?" Eliza rolled her eyes playfully. "You don't wait for George, you gotta take charge and plan it out."
 
Clay's eyes scanned Eliza's features. She clearly wasn't kidding. But it made sense though. George was always so focused on being the best, he got lost in that mindset. Clay watched as Eliza's hand drifted over the pictures, hovering over the one where George looked the happiest.
 
You could almost see that glimmer of hope twinkling in her eyes. It was very obvious she loved her brother more than life itself. Clay couldn't help but wonder what Eliza had been through. He knew George's struggles too well. But Eliza was rather reserved in that regard. Now that Clay thought about it, did Eliza ever open up about her traumas? Bottling things up might just have run in the family.