Love Storm (23 page)

She said something that literally made me choke on my own spit.

"What the —–!" I shrieked. My cell phone dropped and fell to the hardwood floor of the foyer with a clatter that echoed. Wow. Mark this in your calendars, everyone. First time Winter Bruin has screamed an explicative in public. Yikes. I peered around furtively, checking for security cameras in the immediate vicinity. Hey, don't give me that look – Zack was rich; who knew what kind of stuff his freaky parents had installed in his home?

Zack gave me a weird look. I was about to shoot a remark at him, but remembered that my cell phone was still on the ground. I dove underneath the grand piano for it, but when I came up my head banged with something very, very solid. It
hurt
.

It was Zack's head. He had bent over a little to see if I was okay. We both flinched, and I rubbed the throbbing spot on my head that had connected with his seconds ago.

"Gee, how hard is your head?" he complained.

"
My
head? Shut up," I returned, fumbling with my cell phone. "I'm in the middle of a crisis here. Eva?"

"Winter? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Sorry about that."

I could imagine her wincing again, as she must have when I had shouted the explicative, because she suddenly shut up.

I took a deep,
slow
, calming breath through my nose, like they tell you to do in health class when you're on the edge of hyperventilating, then said, "Eva. Repeat what you said earlier."

"Pardon? Sorry, can you say that again? I accidentally pressed the intercom loud speaker-thingy right before you swore and I just turned it off, and my whole family has been temporarily rendered deaf and
now Tristan is giving me a very weird look
. Damn it,
stop it
, Tris – go AWAY – I'm – it's Winter, okay? Happy?"

"Eva," I said again, a little louder now. "Repeat. What. You. Said. Earlier. Please," I added on as an afterthought.

Eva took a deep breath and repeated what she had said earlier, only in a calmer tone this time.

"No way," I said. "Eva, you better not be pulling one on me, otherwise I'm going to freaking kill you."

"I'm not joking with you, okay?" she said, sounding upset. "Would I joke about something like this?"

Instant remorse flooded me. "I'm so sorry, Eva. I guess I just don't want to believe it, myself."

She sighed on the other end. "I don't want to believe it either, Winter. Here, Tris wants to talk to you."

There was a brief shuffling, then – "Winter?"

"Hey Tristan," I sighed. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Eva told you, huh?"

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "Yeah. Tell her I'll be right there. Give me ten minutes. I'll see you then."

We hung up. I looked up at Zack slowly.

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

I breathed in slowly again and released it as a long, deep sigh. "It was Eva. And Tristan."

His frown deepened. "And?"

I sighed again and rested my head back on his shoulder. We were quiet for a long moment.

"They're moving. Their dad's already found a house."

He froze. "Ex-excuse me?" he stuttered.

"She…is…moving," I said, frowning myself. I still couldn't believe it. "Can you pinch me now so I can make sure I'm not dreaming?" I said, wonderingly.

"No," he said. "It's going to hurt."

"That's the
point
," I said.

He pinched me.

It hurt. A
lot
.

"Ow, what was that for?" I yelped.

"You asked for it!" Zack said defensively, batting away my hands. "Hey – hey, come on – stop it –
hey
, seriously now,
don't
slap me –"

I stopped. "So I'm not dreaming."

"No, I don't believe you are," Zack said slowly.

"My best friend is moving," I re-iterated, looking up at the ceiling, my heart heavy.

"Come on," Zack said softly, stroking my hair. "I'll drive you over."

xxxxx

By the time I reached the Westley house, it was the perfect epitome of pandemonium – when I walked in the door, I almost wished I could walk right back out again. Denise, Eva's mom, was there in the kitchen, and screaming something at Mr. Westley, who was shouting back just as loudly and standing on the other side of the room.

"That's not fair to anyone, Oliver, and you know –"

"You think it's fair to me that I now have to watch over six kids with a full time job and no help?" Mr. Westley roared. "Oh, I'll tell you about fair –"

Talk about having a row. It was like they were testing it out, to see how far they could stand apart and still yell each other's heads off.

Zack and I wandered into the living room, where he stopped Matty.

"Woah, where ya goin', bud?" Zack asked him gently, holding him by the shoulder and crouching down to the boy's height.

"I'm leaving," Matty said, soft brown eyes filling up with tears. "I'm gonna go move in with my friend Paul." He had a suitcase in hand which was badly packed; I could see a corner of a shirt peeping out.

"Well, tell ya what," Zack said, leading him over to a couch. "Let me help you pack that up a little neater, and I'll give you a glass of water, then let's talk about moving out, okay?" He glanced up at me and I gave him a cautious smile. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that something like a blush tinted his cheeks then, but I was probably imagining things.

I hurried upstairs. Anthony had locked himself in his room and was playing Linkin Park on his sound system as loud as it would go.

"Anthony!" I yelled, knocking on his door. "It's Winter. Let me in."

"What do you want?" he asked me moodily a moment later when he opened his door, eyes flashing. Anthony was, at its simplest, punk – he usually dressed in black and wore skater shoes. But I had always liked his Etnies, despite what his mother said. His brown hair and crystal blue eyes kind of killed the image though. He had let me in on a secret last week – he was planning on dying his hair some crazy color just to get on his dad's nerves.

"Could you please turn it down?" I asked as politely as I could. An angry Anthony was not something I wanted to contend with. He was, perhaps, the moodiest of the Westleys.

He slammed the door in my face. Gee, doesn't anyone appreciate politeness anymore? I knocked again.

"WHAT?!" Anthony blew up in my face.

"Zack's downstairs if you want to see him," I said coolly.

He glared at me, but retreated into his room. A second later, "Faint" stopped in mid verse. Anthony pushed past me to go downstairs.

But, "Thanks," he grunted, grudgingly, as he passed me.

I stood in front of Anthony's room until I heard, from downstairs, "Hey Anthony. 'Sup man?"

"Hey Zack," came Anthony's low voice. I assumed that they had done that little male handshake-high-five-hand-slap thing.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Want a glass of water?"

Anthony was in safe hands now. I moved down the hall. The next door was the bathroom, and I heard someone sniffling inside. I opened the door very quietly.

"Emily!" I gasped.

When she saw me she began to really cry, tears streaming down her cheeks and leaving wet trails. "W-W-Winter," she hiccupped, "I don't – I don't wanna move!" She started wailing.

"Oh, honey, I know you don't," I said, sitting down cross legged on the tiled floor with her and hugging her. "Shh, it's okay, everything will be okay, darling."

I cradled her for a minute or so, and when she calmed down a little, I led her downstairs (past Anthony's room; Emily raised her eyebrows in a very Eva-esque way when we passed it) to the living room, where she crawled into Zack's lap.

He looked up at me, surprised, in the middle of his conversation with Anthony. I gave him a pleading look, and he nodded.

"Hey Em," he said in a light voice, holding her and rubbing her back comfortingly. "You wanna glass of water?"

I ruffled Matty's hair absentmindedly. He was watching TV while Anthony and Zack were chatting about something, and both the Westley boys were sipping a glass of water each. How Zack had managed to get into the kitchen through the Westley parental units waging World War III was beyond me. I then trotted back upstairs as quickly as I could. Three down, three more to go.

Opposite the bathroom was Samantha's room. Her door was closed, like Anthony's, but not a sound came from it.

"Sam?" I said cautiously, pushing open the door. She never locked it. I slipped into her room and closed the door behind me.

"Winter? Oh, hi," she said, blinking at me and closing her book. She was lying on her stomach on top of her comforter. "Everything okay?" she asked me. Her doe-like brown eyes watched me as I sat down on the end of her bed.

I smiled involuntarily. It was just like quiet Sam to be worried about others over herself.

"Yeah," I said. "Are
you
okay?" I reached over and tucked a strand of her silky brown hair behind her ear.

She nodded. "I think. How's everyone else?"

"Definitely not as calm as you," I laughed a little. Sam gave me a shy smile. "Well, if everything's okay in here, I'm going to go deal with your two oldest now."

She nodded at me, opening
A String in the Harp
back to her place.

I left her room and too soon I found myself standing in front of Tristan's door. I noted that Eva's room had been deserted, which meant that both of them were in his room.

I stood there in the hall, shifting my weight uneasily from foot to foot, then took a breath. I opened the door behind which were the last of the Westley siblings.

They were both sitting on Tristan's bed, resting their backs on the headboard. Tristan saw me first.

"Winter!" he said.

Eva looked up, saw me, then, in one fluid motion, jumped off the bed, crossed the room, and hugged me so hard I couldn't breathe.

"Winter," she said. She was shaking. "Thanks so much for coming. I – I –" Her knees gave out and she collapsed onto the carpet, bringing me down with her.

I was hugging her back hard too. "Eva," I said softly. "I'm sorry about yelling at you."

"God," she replied miserably, swallowing. "Don't be apologizing. It was
all
my fault. I'm so sorry." Silent tears were trickling down her cheeks.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Tristan, silently offering me a tissue. I took it and handed it to his little sister.

She accepted it, saying, "Thanks," and gave me a shaky, watery smile that broke my heart.

"Eva, I'm so sorry," I said, feeling the corners of my eyes prickling, and we both knew we weren't talking about our little fight anymore, which seemed so insignificant now.

"I am too," she sniffed.

There was nothing left to be said. "Uhm," I explained tentatively a minute later. "Most of your siblings are downstairs. Zack's there too, taking care of them. Matty and Emily, at least."

"What?" Eva said, getting up. "I better go see if they're okay." She sniffed again, then wiped her tears away decisively.

I, still on the floor, looked up at her tall form and nodded. She left the room.

After she left, I looked back to where Tristan was sitting on his bed again, looking out his window. I sat down next to him, in the spot where Eva had previously been occupying.

I didn't say anything, but neither did he. He simply pulled me into the spot between his legs, so that my back was resting against his chest. He closed his eyes and buried his face in my hoodie, resting his head in the spot between my shoulder and where my hood covered his face. Automatically I reached my hand up and ran my fingers through his hair comfortingly, over and over again. The action never failed to soothe him, I had learned after a couple years. I gently massaged his scalp and he took in a great, shuddering breath, groaning softly.

"Winter," he mumbled. "Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse…"

"I know, Tristan, I know," I said, closing my eyes.

That was all he said about the situation for the rest of the time I was in his room. We talked about small, unimportant things, but maybe he preferred that we did. He said next, "How was your chem test today?"

"Absolutely terrible," I replied lightly.

He chuckled a little, and the deep sound vibrated though his chest into my body.

We talked a little bit more, then I remembered. "Hey, how come you never told me about getting that job at Payne's huh? I had to hear it through the grapevine from Martin," I said indignantly.

"Oh god, that's right," Tristan moaned, lifting his head up and leaning us both back so he could rest his head on the headboard of his bed. "Today's my first day. What time is it?"