Love Storm (2 page)

"I should go home now," Winter said.

"Just stay," I sighed.

"I don't wanna have to drive you home," Tristan muttered to her.

"I'm flattered," Winter said, picking up her head. "If I didn't like you guys so much, I might have thought that this was a ploy to get me to help y'all out tomorrow morning." She grinned at me tiredly.

"Well, you got
me
figured out, at least," my brother groaned again. "Just let me sleep in ten minutes extra tomorrow, be a good girl."

Winter laughed.

"Damn chem exam tomorrow," I moaned, which stopped her laughing.

"Yea," she said, gazing at a vase morosely. "I haven't studied yet. Maybe I can study on the bus tomorrow morning."

"Car," I corrected.

"Wha…?" was the intelligent response.

"You won't be taking the bus tomorrow," Tristan reminded. "Because you'll be coming with us. If you're staying over tonight."

"Oh…oh, yeah, that's right," Winter said faintly, looking as if she really didn't care if she had to go to school tomorrow on the back of a hippopotamus, so long as she could go to sleep right then.

These were pretty much what our nightly conversations consisted of – short, random sentences pieced together with what little energy we had left. It had already become tradition for the three of us to seek out a bit of peace, sympathy, and solace in these nightly meetings.

"What's for breakfast tomorrow, Ev?" Winter asked.

"Toast?"

"Okay, as long as I get jam and butter duty," she replied. "You get toasting duty, Tristan."

"Goody," my older brother feigned excitement with a wave of his hand. "That's something I can do while half-asleep." He ran his hands through his tousled dirty blonde hair, which was much the same color as mine. We looked the most alike out of all our siblings – it was the hair, and the same cerulean blue eyes, heart-shaped face, tall, lean figure. The only difference was that Tristan's looks were more rugged, and rougher around the edges, something, apparently, that drove the girls crazy. I, for one, couldn't see it.

"Just don't burn down the house," Winter said in reply to Tristan's comment.

"Lunch?" I then asked. We were chefs, discussing our daily menus before turning in. This was the last thing we talked about every night.

"PB&J," Tristan replied promptly. "I'm not slapping another ham and cheese together this week."

"Amen," Winter contributed.

"I agree," I said.

"Dinner?"

"Those Asian instant Ramen noodles. Easiest thing ever," Tristan said. "A true blessing to mankind."

"Are we done for tonight?" Winter yawned. "I could fall asleep right here."

"Let's go to bed. You'd better call your parents first, Win. Night, Tris," I said as Winter and I got up.

He waved a hand in reply, head buried in his arms.

Winter and I were half-way up the stairs when we heard a muffled, frustrated yell downstairs from Tristan: "Aaaah crud, I haven't finished my English essay yet! Why?! Why me – ?!"

Just the end of another day.

xxxxx

Looking back on those months, I cannot imagine how we would have survived without Winter and the support of her family. Her parents completely understood, and gave rides to us whenever we needed it, took the kids off our hands whenever they could manage it.

Life was tiring, school was even worse. It was hell.

I used to be a straight-A student. Honor-roll, star volleyball player, and MVP on the basketball team. Now, I was lucky to get Bs on tests and to be placed on the second string.

To make matters worse (or funnier, if you wanted to be optimistic), Winter said some person I didn't know had been stalking me. Was she hallucinating? I thought so too.

"I'm serious, Ev," she said as we pushed through the halls on our way to Spanish 5-6, the one class we had together in the morning. "He's always watching you.
Always
. I'll just be randomly looking around the cafeteria at lunch, and
bam!
I'll see him, sitting by himself, staring at you! And every time I walk you to Drama and Pre-Cal,
he's there
, waiting outside. I swear, the next time I see him –"

"–The next time you see him," I interrupted her, "You'll point him out to me."

She glanced reproachfully at me when I cut in. "Fine," she said. As we neared the Spanish classroom, she suddenly grabbed my arm.

"Look!" she hissed, pulling on my arm. "Now he's taken to stalking you to Spanish class!"

I looked at where she was pointing, and when I saw the person she was glaring furiously at, I laughed.

"I fail to see what's so funny, Eva," Winter sniffed frostily, shifting her books to her other arm.

"That's just Zack," I smiled and waved at him.

Winter looked appalled. "Don't wave! For all we know, he could be some serial killer who takes a sadistic pleasure in stalking and scaring his victims before he tortures them to death!"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you remember Zack?"

"No," she said immediately.

"Oh come on, of course you remember him. Woodshop? Sixth grade?"

No recognition dawned on my best friend's face. "No, I don't remember. That was five years ago."

I sighed and gave a friendly smile to Zack, who was looking at Winter in mild amusement.

"Hi," I said to him, as Winter gave him one last icy glance and stalked into the classroom.

He nodded at me. "Apparently I'm a serial killer who takes a sadistic pleasure in stalking and scaring my victims before I torture them to death this morning."

I laughed. "Don't mind her. She's got a lot to deal with right now."

He gave me one last nod, then departed without a word. Weird. I shrugged it off and joined Winter inside the classroom.

Her chocolate eyes flashed as I slid into the seat next to her. "Done fraternizing with the man who will ultimately be your downfall?"

"Oh, stop being dramatic, Win," I said, smiling. The simple gesture seemed enough to melt her indignation.

She sighed. "What did he want?"

"Nothing. I don't know. I didn't ask," I replied.

"That is so weird," she muttered. After a pause, she said, "He probably likes you, you know, if he's stalking you."

"Zack? Nah, I'd never go out with someone like him anyway."

"What do you mean, someone like him?" Winter asked curiously.

This caught me. What
did
I mean by that?

Zackary Crowne was a mystery to most people, including me. He was deemed cool by the jocks and would occasionally hang out with them, but at other times he chose to talk to skaters, or spend afternoons going over school work with teachers. Detention was one after school pastime he had been assigned more than once as well. I had seen him all over the school. He never seemed to hang out with one single group of people, he simply… drifted. He was accepted by everybody, amiable to all, hated by none, which was the most unusual thing of all. Branner High was your typical high school, and everyone held at least one or two grudges and knew of a couple people they disliked – but no one seemed to dislike Zack. He was quiet, reserved – almost removed from the world around him. That had to be it. He was always in a world of his own.

Little did I know that that day would be the beginning of many which would include him in our own worlds.

Chapter Three: Games

-Winter-

"Hey Winter."

I closed my eyes. "Hi, Zack," I said as amiably as I could through clenched teeth.

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Apparently not… seeing as you've already sat yourself down," I muttered the last bit, opening my eyes, still aiming for a friendly tone of voice. My eyes were met with a brilliance beyond comprehension. His eyes of liquid gold, flecked with solid metallic flints, never failed to shock and secretly thrill me. They had to be the one outstanding feature of Zackary Crowne. A girl could get pulled into those eyes, lost to the world, if she weren't paying attention. Not that I would ever tell anyone that.

"Where's Eva?" Zack asked, without even looking around.

I gave him the answer I had supplied all week. "Chemistry. She has a project she has to work on. With Brock Davis," I added this time.

He gave me a thoughtful look. "Brock Davis and Eva Westley. Now there's an interesting combination."

"You would know," I said lightly in a neutral tone of voice, opening up my PB&J sandwich, courtesy of Tristan.

Zack tended to hang out with all sorts of people – everyone in the entire school knew who he was. On the flip side, everyone also knew the one person who seemed to be his best friend. Brock Davis. The kid who got detention on a daily basis, smoked while everyone looked away, and got stoned just as often. But if the rumors were true, Brock Davis was also a brilliant kid. He was in all honors classes and had always maintained a B average and above. Brock and Zack made a great pair, either way. Zack was a genius too, in his own way. His report card may not have shown it, but all it took was one conversation with him to know he wasn't stupid.

I was pulled back to the present when Zack reached for my water bottle.

"Why yes, of course you can have some," I snapped.

"Thank you, Winter. How generous of you." He winked at me.

I stared at him, exasperated, as he took two sips of my precious water. Precious because Tristan had not yet figured out that peanut butter and jelly sandwiches required an even amount of peanut butter
and
jelly. He tended to apply the peanut butter with a more generous hand than I would have liked.

"Are you going to tell me why you've been sitting with me at lunch this whole week?" I asked politely, taking back my water and downing a quarter of it in one gulp, trying my best to wash out the nutty stickiness. I made a small face to myself. Water and peanut butter – nasty.

"Tsk, tsk, Winter," Zack said, starting in on his own lunch – cafeteria pizza. I wrinkled my nose. How unhealthy could you get? "First rule of the game – you never should acknowledge that it's there."

I gritted my teeth. Okay, so he was getting a little on my nerves. That was fine. Lots of people got on my nerves. Just breathe, Winter.
Breathe,
god damn it.To Zack's credit, I understood the game he was talking about. It was a secret, silent battle of wills. Well, actually, more like a battle against
my
will. He was trying to see how long I could go without blowing up at him, and I just knew he was enjoying every second of it. He had been sitting with me at lunch all week.

Fine. I wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of seeing me get mad. I could play the game too. For the moment, I chose to ignore the person sitting across from me.

No Eva to sit by and sympathize with me, I thought sadly. She was so busy with trying to pull her schoolwork back together, it was nearly impossible getting a word in edgewise. We hadn't talked properly, really, since the beginning of school. We were close, the comradeship was still there. But we hadn't been talking as much. Afternoons were spent at her house trying to get all the chores done, dinner time was worse, after dinner was spent trying to force the kids into their pajamas and getting them to stay upstairs, while Eva, Tristan and I took turns in taking showers, and after that… the dreaded mountain of homework. I suddenly felt a surge of anger against Mr. Westley. It wasn't fair, how he was dumping everything on us and wedging himself into his work. And here I was, pulled into the thick of it. It wasn't fair. I had to continually deal with her family's problems. It got so tiring. I loved her like a sister, but I felt, at the same time, I was giving her some of my freedom. Nowadays, the only time I got to spend with my own family was during the weekends. I practically lived at Eva's house now.

-
Zack-

I watched her eyes – they were a dead giveaway to her emotions. Her chocolate brown eyes, sometimes so heartbreakingly innocent, other times filled with emotions I secretly hoped would never be truly directed at me. How ironic, I thought mildly. Scorn, frustration, exasperation – it
was
all directed at me, at the moment. Really, I was doing her a bit of a favor. Now she had a person to push all her pent up frustrations on. Why did she dislike me so much, anyway? Perhaps I simply annoyed her.

I watched her eyes as they flickered between a soft sadness, to a hard anger, then faded to a sort of coiled up frustration I had never seen before in her. I wondered what it was.

And as I watched her, I thought, for the first time, that Winter was actually quite pretty in her own way. She was more petite than the girls I usually went for though – probably a whole head shorter than my own 5'11". Her auburn hair was long and silky, and fell a couple inches past her shoulders down her back in long waves. Winter's complexion was light, creamy, and completely unmarred by the terrible barrage of acne that most unlucky teenagers had to deal with. She had a petite little nose that always wrinkled just a little when I sat down. Yes, her looks were pretty in a pure sort of way, I decided, but she was definitely a girl I would not pursue. There was that sarcastic temper you would have to constantly deal with, for one.