Tragic Hearts

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

This day was pointless. There was nothing I could do, but sit back and watch everyone around me. The only productive thing I'd done today was eat a bowl of soup. It was laughable really, but I didn't have it within me to put on a brave face and go back to life as usual. Cole's smile flashed before my eyes and the sound of his laughter rang through my ears. I wished I was able to hit the reset button, go back to life as usual like Cole, but no matter how deep I dug, I couldn't find it within me. He might have been my twin, but we were far from the same. Sometimes I thought it would have been easier if we were both grieving the same, then there would have been someone who understood me. It wasn't that I felt sad. No, instead I felt like an empty vessel, without a goal or a purpose in life. Adrift on the wide-open sea with no stars in the sky to guide me home. I guess the term I was looking for was lost.

My boots tapped against the floor as I hesitated to enter the classroom. Class was the least of my worries. There were more important things, like avoiding Elia and Vicky and making sure Cole and my father didn't worry about me. I didn't need a lecture from them as well. I was sure Cole told my dad about my little panic attack at the funeral and it wasn't going to ease his mind any. Then at the back of my mind was the boy from the cafeteria. How I wanted to know his name. Though, the fear was still there at the back of my mind; all of the what-ifs, wondering what people were saying behind my back. The stares alone were unbearable, and if Elia and Vicky were telling the truth, then everyone already knew of the horrors that played on repeat in my head.

I paused in the doorway and hugged my bag to my chest. After this morning, I didn't even bother getting my books from my locker. Whether the teacher knew or not, I already considered this day a write-off. As I looked up, I noticed my regular seat at the back of the class with the best view of the courtyard was taken. The familiar plaid shirt caught my attention. There he was, the boy I couldn't get out of my head and he was sitting in my seat. What were the odds? From what I worked out in my head, it was about 1 in 200, since that was approximately how many seniors went to the school. Pretty slim, nonetheless.

I let my eyes close briefly as panic rose in my chest, making my lungs contract and my breath hitch in my throat. Not again. I couldn't let it happen today, not here, not in front of him. I just had to find another seat, it was as simple as that. Yet it made the hair on my arms stand up on end. My eyes scanned the room, hoping for an easy alternative, but the longer I waited the less choice I had. Make a decision, Corinna. Just pick one. I narrowed in on a seat, the one closest to my normal spot at the back of the classroom. My feet carried me down the aisle, the strap of my purse slowly slipping from my shoulder. I sat myself down, catching his glance and once again he nodded at me. What? Was I not good enough for actual words? I shook the thought away and put in my headphones, ready to choose a playlist and tune out this class as well. As I scrolled through my phone, my bag slipped out from behind my back and unloaded its contents on the floor. The pages of my sketchbook were sprawled open, the deepest darkest parts of my subconscious on display for all to see, along with my unopened box of cigarettes. The plastic wrap probably wouldn't last much longer after this day.

He bent down to help, but his eyes immediately fixated on the dead body on the forest floor depicted with charcoal pencils. He took the book in his hands and began flipping through, glancing up at me every so often. I wished I was an ostrich with a bed of sand to bury my head in, but I was stuck, frozen as I waited for him to say something, anything. To give me his approval, like I needed it.

"These are...dark," he muttered, but instead of putting it down, he continued, examining the details like an art critic. It was like he was memorizing each line, every crevice of my soul when all I wanted was for him to put it down and forget he ever saw them. What did he know about art anyway? I shrunk in my seat and rubbed my tongue along the inside of my lip. Warmth crept up my spine and found a home in my cheeks. Embarrassment surged through me in waves until it bubbled into anger. If he didn't like them, then why was he continuing to look? I reached across the aisle between us and snatched my sketchbook from his hands.

"In other words, they're awful." I slammed the notebook shut and stuck it back in my bag where no one could see the atrocities. Placing my headphones back in my ears, I turned to face the front of the classroom. I tapped my nails against the surface, pretending to tap along to the beat when in fact there was nothing playing in my ears. In my peripheral vision, I noticed his hand getting closer and closer to my head. I flinched away and narrowed my eyes at him, wondering what gave him the right to come into my personal bubble. As I pulled the headphones from my ears, I asked, "What are you doing?"

"Sorry, I just didn't want you to think that's what I mean. I actually think they're great, I could almost picture myself there. I think you're really talented, but they're just dark." He shrugged like it was nothing, like what he said didn't mean anything. I was talented but too fucked up. That was what he meant to say. I rolled my eyes and let an exasperated chuckle escape my lips. It was just a statement and from a stranger at that, but I still found myself taking it to heart. I didn't want to care what he thought of me. "There's nothing wrong with that."

This time, I let my music blast in my ears, deciding that this conversation was over. I wasn't going to waste my time talking to him. My blatant disregard didn't seem to phase him. No, his lips continued moving. His gorgeous pink lips made me want to feel again just so I could feel those lips against mine. I snapped myself out of it. Thinking like that wouldn't do me any good, I already knew he didn't want to date me or sleep with me for that matter. Like he insinuated, I was too fucked up. I sighed, quickly realizing that he wasn't going to stop any time soon.

Once again, I tore my headphones out of my ears. "What did you say?"

He chuckled lowly and flashed me those dazzling hazel eyes. If I were any other girl it would have made me weak in the knees. As his lips curved into a smile, small dimples appeared. "I was saying that, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Can we start over?"

"Sure," I said. The word slipped off my tongue before I could stop myself. I'm a sucker, it was confirmed. I wanted to slap myself upside the head, and rip my heart out of my chest for going against my brain. He stuck out his hand to me. As I stretched my arm forward, I immediately became aware of the chipped black nail polish on my fingernails. Though, it was too late to pull back now. His hand engulfed mine, shaking it lightly.

"I'm Hunter," he introduced himself.

"Corinna," I muttered back as my hand slipped out of his grasp. A chill ran down my spine as though my body already missed his touch.

The teacher cleared his throat and stood from his desk, writing a page number on the whiteboard. "Alright, could everyone please turn to page 79 in their textbooks?"

Talking to Hunter, I almost forgot my mother was dead. Almost.

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Thanks for reading!

Hope you are enjoying the story so far!

What do you think of Hunter so far? Do you think he put his foot in his mouth with Corinna? Will she shut him out like she has the rest of her friends? Tell me your predictions in the comments! What do you think will happen next? I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter and the story so far. These characters are so dear to my heart, I'd love to know what you think of them!

If you have any feedback, I'd really appreciate it!

xx Allie