Lovers Next Door

The Girl and her Paintings

Calum Peters scuffed his worn out green sneakers on the pavement as he hesitated outside the door of Cara Houston's house.

What did he think he was doing? Cara was much too electric for him. On her first day here, she was nose-to-nose with an unknown boy (something Calum still felt fluttery thinking about) and yelling late in the evening about painting pretty eyes.

Once Cara realises that I'm plain and boring, she'll throw me into the gutter and look for a new play-boy.

Calum felt a cold sweat beginning to form on his forehead and palms. He hardly knew this girl but he was somehow so drawn to her.

How her vivid green eyes shone with energy and life, how her two shiny blonde plaits bounced around as she skipped, and how everything seemed brighter when she talked.

Oh enough was enough. Calum had been so excited to spend the day with Cara but was willing to risk it to not have to deal with the sting of her imminent rejection.

As he turned on his heel, he heard the front door whoosh open.

"Calum! It's me Cara! Where're you going silly! My house is this way!" Cara's excited voice resounded in his eardrums.

Gulping down all his doubts and dreads, he turned around and gave a small smile to the girl who had been on his mind all the night before.

She looked even more beautiful than before with her blonde, silky hair tumbling down her back and clad in a pair of bright pink overalls with matching glittery sandals.

"May I come in Cara?" Calum asked politely.

"Well I didn't open the door for any of your other four brothers, did I?" She teased, grabbing his hand and pulling him into her house.

Calum felt his heartbeat quicken as he registered that Cara had remembered what he had said to her yesterday.

"Let me take you to my art studio," she said loftily while pointing at different objects and explaining their significance, or insignificance.

Calum listened intently, determined to know all he could about the eccentric Cara Houston.

"That's the big seashell I collected when mummy and I went to Bondi Beach in Australia. Pretty sure that was our third trip down under."

She travels a lot, Calum thought.

"Those are mummy's perfumes. She says not to touch them because they're so expensive."

She respects, at least some, authoritative figures.

"Those are just some dirty medals that grandpa has. Don't know why mummy keeps them. It's not like there's chocolate inside or anything. Trust me, I've checked."

She's not very well educated on wars and is unaware of their importance in society.

Also, likes chocolate.

"And finally, I present to you Mr Peters, MY ART STUDIO!" Her voice echoing in the empty halls.

Calum looked at the small room in awe. Despite most of the studio being empty, several paintings had already been hung up that displayed Cara's talent.

The fine delicate brushstrokes of a skilled painter showed incredible details and colours of all different shades blended and melted together to form the perfect hue in each painting.

Calum knew that Cara was special but he had never expected that she had an artistic gift as well.

"Cara, your works are positively breathtaking. They're the most beautiful things I've ever seen. I think you have a gift," Calum stated after examining all of her paintings on the walls.

"Oh! Well, umm, thank you Mr Peters!" Cara replied, unaccustomed to complements from someone other than her mother. A blush began to form on her freckled, heart shaped face.

"Glad to see that you're human too," Calum thought aloud, causing Cara to give him a strange look.

"How so?" Cara perched herself on a wooden stool and rested her face on her palms, eager to listen to Calum explain.

"Well, you always sound so confident and energetic that it feels like you're not even human anymore. You're just so eccentric that it's hard to believe that you're just like me."

Cara pondered over this for a moment. She then jumped off her stool and reached into cupboard, retrieving a pencil case filled with Prismacolour pencils of all shades imaginable.

"Well of course I'm not like you, silly! I'm a girl for one thing, and I happen to be only eight years old, unlike your ripe old age of nine. I'm also rather sure that you don't have a sparkly purple Strawberry Shortcake tutu sitting in the back of your closet. I'm afraid I'm nothing like you whatsoever, Mr Peters," she finally replied, keeping a straight face throughout the entirety of her little speech.

Calum could not help it. He laughed.

Cara began to laugh with him but what she did not realise was what a huge deal this had meant.

Calum NEVER laughed in public. Even as a baby, he refused to even produce a giggle when outside with other people. His parents had taught him to remain quiet and reserved in public and he had respected their wishes.

Calum chest began to ache as the pair laughed and chatted for the next two hours. His cheeks were burning from smiling so much.

But it was the best kind of burning sensation he had ever felt.