Paintings Of Him

Chapter 1 - Longing

There are two types of pain.

The first kind of pain, is so sharp and sudden that it makes you wince, maybe even scream out in agony. It is over quickly, sometimes even within the blink of an eye, like a stab to the heart. The second kind of pain, is after the knife is already lodged within your heart, and somebody grabs on, slowly twisting it round and round. Sometimes the pain is less sharp, less severe, more like an ache in the back of your head that throbs throughout the day as they continue twisting the knife to make the wound even worse.

Seeing his face in the hallway, lit up with that same old smile as he holds up the golden trophy, falls into the second category. The knife twists in deeper as my mind travels back to the day that he sauntered into my life, with that exact same bright smile.

The door feels heavy as I open it but the weight quickly drops as the contents spill out onto the floor. Sighing, I look around at the people laughing, pointing, some even mouthing rude words. Tucking my hair behind my ear, I bend down quickly and reach for my work, shuffling the pages back into the right order.

A hand falls onto my chemistry textbook and I look up into an ocean of icy blue. The boy looks at me, grinning slightly and offers me the textbook slowly, like I am a caged animal. Realising that I am probably looking at him in utter terror, I try to smile back softly, it unsuccessfully turning into more of a wince.

"I'm Corbin."

He now has a name, what a beautiful one at that. The kind of name that someone would use in a story, or a poem, a name to remember.

Stretching back up to be levelled with my locker, I place my papers back into my folder before turning back to him with the same poor attempt at a smile.

"Clara" I mumble in return, his eyes almost hypnotizing me into forgetting the simple word. Those eyes light up when they hear me speak, a larger smile taking over his face.

"I'm new. Just transferred. I joined the football team! You have any clubs or hobbies, Miss Clever Clara?" he teases, nodding towards my locker brimming with textbooks and work.

He picks up the one that he handed back to me from where it was resting on the others, "Chemistry. Hmm...can't say it is an interest of mine. It is complicated."

"Some people like complicated" I whispered.

"People like you?" he looks up at me through his eyelashes, his eyes curious, not harsh.

I shrug, taking the book from his hand, placing it in the locker and closing it quietly.

"See you around then, Clara" he mumbles and wanders back down the hallway.

Seeing him walk through that hallway now, he looks so different. He walks with confidence, expecting people to like him and they do. How could you not like someone so thoroughly nice and talented?

My brother Jordan is beside Corbin, walking alongside him like they are part of some reality star duo. The captain of the football team and his best friend on the field. Holding up their trophy from the game that they just won, like always.

Longing for someone is even worse when they are your brother's best friend. They are constantly around you like the universe is playing with your heart, making you hope for things that will never happen. Jordan had already made it pretty obvious that he was completely off bounds years ago when they first became friends. But now I have to see Corbin every day of my life, dangled in front of me like a treat for a pet, just wishing he wasn't there.

"You didn't stay and watch the end?"

I turn to see the exact same shade of green eyes that I was born with and smile at my twin brother.

"I already knew that you would win. Congratulations" I grin at him and he returns the gesture, pulling me into a one armed hug, warm and familiar.

"We just have to convince you to join the team" Jordan teases, ruffling my hair and I shake him off playfully.

"You know what I am like with sports, there is no way that will ever happen" I roll my eyes.

"Oh please, I know. Last time I tried to get you to catch a ball, you ended up in the hospital" he laughs.

"I wasn't prepared!" I whine and he just sends me a disbelieving look making me smile.

He turns to look back into the crowded hallway, where his teammates are all taking pictures and getting ready to head back to the changing rooms. The same look that he used to wear before he was on the team, just watching from the sidelines. The look on his face makes my eyes soften, nudging him softly.

"Go celebrate. I'll see you at home" I reassure him with a soft smile.

"You sure you don't mind?"

His eyes look conflicted, darting back and forth between his two worlds, the one where he triumphs and the one where he is simply an older brother. By twenty minutes might I add.

A hand clamps around his shoulder, knocking him out of his daze and making my face fall slightly.

"Come on, J! You're not in the party mood?" Corbin asks.

"I don't know..." Jordan looks at me and I just nod my head once making Corbin's eyes switch to me. I inwardly gulp and my heart skips a beat, swiftly falling into my stomach.

"Hey Clara!" he grins and steps forward for a hug, only for me to awkwardly step back. His face falls.

"You're s-sweaty" is my lame excuse.

Jordan frowns. "You hugged me!"

"You're my twin" I protested. "We shared the same womb for nine months."

Jordan laughs and rolls his eyes but Corbin still looks a little deflated, his ego probably bruised. I ignore the twinge in my heart, knowing that I shouldn't feel bad.

"Well, are you coming to the party? To celebrate?" his eyes search my expression.

"Not in the mood, just going to go home" I mumble.

"Oh. Well, have fun."

I nod once, turning to Jordan. "See you at home, be safe."

He simply ruffles my hair. "How many times do I have to remind you that I am the older twin?"

"Twenty minutes. Not worth a trophy."

He rolls his eyes before grabbing Corbin, pulling him back into the crowd of supporters. Corbin's eyes hold mine for a moment before he disappears, turning away with tense shoulders.

Swallowing harshly, another ache comes from within my heart and there it is once again. The longing.