Shy

Clara

I sit on the steps just outside the dance studio, waiting anxiously for Kia. I'm so excited to see her, and after telling her my big news about transferring schools, I just can't contain my excitement. My knee jumps up and down as I watch for her impatiently, smiling to myself as I look forward to the day where I can see her everyday instead of twice a week.

And the chance to see Kit too.

My knee stops moving as I frown, unhappy with how frequently my mind returns to the subject of Kia's twin brother. I ponder what he's like in a social setting. The girls at dance had mixed opinions. He is well-liked and respected, yet reclusive and solitary. He is smart and quick-witted, yet shy and unassuming.

I once again find myself yearning for the opportunity to form my own impression of him, to not need to rely on other peoples crude ideas and speculations.

I perk up suddenly as I watch a figure zoom round the corner, her bike skidding to a stop in front of me. Her hair is wild and her eyes are sparkling with a manic sort of enthusiasm that Kia seems to carry with her everywhere.

"Hey! You haven't been waiting long have you?" Kia asks and I shake my head.

"No, about five minutes." I answer, standing up and waiting for her to lock up her bike.

Kia chats aimlessly about her day at school and I nod vacantly. I watch Kia's expressions change as she speaks and note all of her quirky mannerisms. The way that her eyebrows are so expressive and the wild gesticulations she makes with her hands.

I silently wonder how similar Kia and her brother really are. I know Kia like the back of my hand, but how much of her is reflected in her twin?

"Clara? Are you okay?" Kia asks and I nod vigorously.

"Yeah, yeah! Of course, why?" I ask and she laughs.

"Because you've been staring at me for a couple minutes in silence and I'm a bit concerned." She says good-humouredly.

I grimace, apologising softly.

We enter the changing room and I decide to change tact, not wanting to get caught up in a whirlwind of sappy, teenage hormones again.

Well, not my sappy teenage hormones anyway.

"So, what's going on with Michael?" I ask quietly, wanting to keep the conversation between us for a little while longer. I watch in amazement as Kia actually blushes.

"Nothing, nothing's going on." She mumbles and I snort, rolling my eyes as I slump down on the bench and fold my arms. I watch her patiently and she gives me a very unimpressed glance.

"We're science partners, it made sense for us to be partners because we've known each other so long and he basically sees me as a little sister and.." She trails off, catching sight of my expression.

She sighs.

"We text. It's nice, he makes me laugh and he has this thing where when he smiles his whole face changes and it makes me feel warm and shit." She mumbles, looking down at her leotard and grimacing in distaste.

I smile widely, tickled at Kia's facial expression.

"Can I see a picture?" I ask, wondering just how hot the boy is. Kia nods, pulling out her phone and flashing me her background picture.

My eyes wander over the tanned, charming face of the boy on the left. He has dark blond hair and chocolate brown eyes and the most adorable dimples. His smile is relaxed and boyish and I know now what Kia was talking about. You know that he's truly happy, you can see it plainly on his face and it makes you happy too. My eyes flick over to the person on the right and I smile.

The boy standing next to Michael may as well be his opposite. Where Michael is tanned, blond and boyishly handsome, Kit is sharp, dark and striking.

And yet, the expression on his face is so care-free. His arm is flung over his friends shoulder, his smile achingly handsome.

I look up forcefully, feeling slightly flustered.

"He's very attractive." I admit and Kia sighs, nodding her head. She puts her phone away with a little smile and I try not to feel too jealous. There's clearly something there, something new and uncertain and exciting and I want that feeling for myself.

I've never really been shown much attention in that department. I'm not exciting to look at like Kia or her brother. I'm conventionally pretty. In other words, boring. There's hundreds out there that look just the same and though in a fleeting moment I might seem attractive, I am just as easily forgotten.

I frown and shake away the thought. I should be happy with my appearance, it could be a lot worse.

I should be content with what I have and not want for something that I can't have, but I can't help it. I want to be different, I want something more. I want to be noticed for who I really am.

I think back to Kia's background, the two handsome boys who are worlds apart and yet just the same.