Crush

Chapter Two: Cousins

Ever since he could remember people had always been telling Thorne he was a beautiful child. Then puberty hit, and the word handsome was thrown around instead, but nothing really changed significantly from then on. It was clear his only redeeming quality was always going to be the one thing he had a minimal hand at shaping himself. His looks.

It bothered him that some people were so susceptible to mere physical qualities. They'd gravitate towards him, seeking his approval, but not because he had earned it. It seemed like an unfair advantage that he could walk into any room, and come out of it having created some kind of connection with most people in there.

Not that he was saying everyone was shallow in the world, just a good part of society.

It was two years ago when Thorne had first met Jane at Chris' house. She was fifteen at the time, a few months younger than him, and too small, and thin for a teenager. He had easily towered over her even then.

She had been sitting on the couch watching tv, and as she turned to look him up and down, a bright, red, blush formed at the apples of her cheeks. He had written her off right then.

A change of heart had resulted in them dating a year later, and now even a small glimpse of her through a crowd of people could render him physically weak. Thorne had a bad habit of losing the people he loved, it had happened to both his parents, and then a maternal grandmother who had been his guardian for a time.

Drugs.

The image of a small box of pills flashed through his mind. Lexapro, used to treat major depressive disorders in adolescents. "You've been through a lot son," his psychiatrist had once said, "this is just a helping hand."

Thorne had purposely stopped taking them a week ago.

As he walked across the corridor, his girlfriend, Jane, had been watching his progress closely. She recognised the familiar tension in his jaw as students involuntarily shot back to let him pass by them. The corners of her mouth pulled up in amusement. What was so bad about being liked by the people around you?

Loud giggles broke through the more muted choruses of normal conversation, and Jane turned her head to a group of girls laughing in the corner. They were gazing at Thorne through black, mascara laden, eye lashes, then whispering secrets into each other's ears.

Okay there might have been some negative points to being highly likable. Like the way some girls did double takes, trying to get a second glance at her boyfriend who'd merely happen to walk by.

She hadn't quite put her finger on what it was exactly about Thorne that appealed to pretty much everybody who came into contact with him. It could have been that he was gorgeous. With bright, brown eyes, a straight nose, and lips the colour of pink roses. The way his fair hair curled at the nape of his neck, or that he was a head taller than just about everyone. Though Jane suspected it had always been something more, a uniquely innate charm that made people warm to him despite themselves.

When he stood in front of her, she jumped up like she'd usually done and wrapped her thin arms around his neck. He slipped his hands down to just above her bottom to hold her up against him. They'd kissed briefly, a few seconds of pressing, wet, lips then their mouths pulled back. In school long public displays of affection tended to set off the most immature kid around.

Chris stood behind them, overwhelmed by the crushingly familiar sensation of complete loneliness. The air seemed thinner, and his feet wanted to move, but he couldn't look away from Jane's bunched up skirt caught underneath Thorne's fingers. Her shoes. Long knee high socks. so much pale, smooth skin. And the edges of a white, cotton pants. He groaned inwardly. What was he doing?