Love Storm (48 page)

"Come on Win, please don't do this," he whispered in my ear, voice a little shaky.

"Shut up Tristan," I wailed, burying my face in his chest. "Just
shut up
. I hate you. Why do you have to leave?"

"Winter, you know I'll miss you," he said softly, sadly, stroking my back soothingly. He hugged me hard, his tall form embracing my petite one easily.

"I-I'm s-s-serious," I mumbled miserably, tears still streaming down my face. It felt like my heart was being squeezed mercilessly. I was sure my chest was about to explode at any moment. "Tristan, what am I going to do without you?" I wailed.

He, too, was more emotional than I had ever seen him before. He pulled away a little so he could look me in the eyes. His cerulean orbs were suspiciously bright as he said, "Winter, you know I'll be back in time for the holidays, and you
know
you can call me anytime. Alright?"

I sucked my lips in a fruitless attempt to make myself stop crying. "Okay," I said in a small voice.

"I'll call you as soon as I arrive in San Diego, sound good?"

All I could do was nod as I burst into sobs again. God. Were airports made with the intention of being such a dramatic place?

"Oh, honey, please stop crying, it pains me so much to see you like this," he murmured in my hair. "Please don't cry; your pretty face would look so much better with a smile. Give me a smile, please?"

I tried; it was a very watery, very shaky smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Tristan, I'm going to miss you so much. But I'm really glad for you too. Finally off to college," I said quietly. "I'm really proud of you."

"You have no idea how much I appreciate that, Win," he replied seriously. "I have to go in now, they're going to call my flight really soon."

I nodded again, and he kissed my cheek and pulled himself away gently, picking up his backpack and carry-on luggage. I had been the last one to say a long goodbye. Tristan gave a nod to his dad, a smile to his mom, and one last hug to all his siblings. After Eva got her hug she moved closer to me, linking her arm through mine in a friendly, reassuring gesture that was one of those things I loved most about her.

"You okay?" she asked me softly as Tristan gave Katherine a very long hug, whispered some words in her ear, and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

"I'll be okay," I said, glancing up at her. Her eyes, too, were red and watery, and she sniffled a little as Tristan entered the line to get through security. Katherine came over and linked arms with me on the other side.

She looked so sad, I thought as I looked at her. Tristan had confessed to me a few weeks ago that he was pretty sure she was The One. I knew he was being serious. There was a tenderness to their relationship, a strong, unbreakable bond connecting them, that I knew both were in love. It was obvious in the way he looked at her, and the way she always smiled
that
smile for him. But looking at Katherine today, her straight black hair dragged back in a messy ponytail, cute little nose red, already fair skin pale, that I mused, it must be hard being in love, if it meant that you had to be that miserable when the occasion arose. Not that Tristan looked much better off.

He had gotten through security without a hitch, and pulled his backpack and carry-on luggage off the black conveyer belt. Tristan turned, gave us all one last wave, caught Katherine's eye and blew her a kiss, and was gone, weaving through the mass of people to get to his gate, head of dirty blonde hair bobbing in and out of vision.

xxxxx

Life is constantly changing. And at the end of that summer, I felt it more than I ever had before.

Tristan was gone; Katherine was gone, both off to college. That was the biggest difference. Gavin was the newest addition to my life – we hung out together a lot those last few weeks of summer. He worked at Baskin Robbins (why Baskin Robbins, I will never know, but what I do know is that I got unlimited free samples of the Flavors of the Months), and in the weeks Eva had volleyball camp, I ended up spending hours on end there with him, chatting with him across the counter, until the manager got tired of seeing me idly sitting around on my butt doing nothing during the afternoon rush hours and offered me a job. To everyone's surprise (most especially mine), I accepted. I didn't know why I did – I kept thinking to myself that I had had enough change, but I guess sometimes once things get started they just can't stop.

Eva and Martin were still going steady, and I was happy when I was around her, because
she
always seemed to be happy these days. She confided in me, saying that living with just her dad was different, yes, but there was less stress on everyone now that her parents were officially separated. We remained best friends despite being in different schools and living in different cities. She was still the sister I never had, and always would be.

But I think the biggest change happened on the first day of school.

The first day of school was always hectic. Counselors rushing around, people waiting restlessly in the office to get their schedules fixed (I knew that one all too well), Mr. Clements the vice principal running around with his all-important clipboard, comb-over plastered to his balding head, severe mustache quivering, looking harassed to no end and like he was going to go into cardiac arrest within seconds. You know, the usual.

After spending forty minutes in my registration room with my fellow juniors, last names Aa-By, we were sent to first period. I had Mr. Raskin again, he had been my Pre-Cal teacher last year and was my Calculus teacher this year.

I took a seat near the middle of the classroom off to the side, slouching in my chair, trying to hide from Mr. Raskin's jolly beginning of the school year questions and knowing I would fail because I was one of his favorite students and he always had his eye out for me. Again, why, I would never know – another one of those greater mysteries of life.

"Alright, a new school year," he said heartily as the bell rang and the class settled down. Martin had slid into the desk next to mine as he was speaking.

"Martin!" I whispered.

"Hey Winter," he grinned, giving me a high-five. "Nice, we're in the same class."

"What are you doing here, you stupid senior?" I asked him, though smiling. "You're supposed to be taking your senior year easy, not signing up for a class like this."

"I know," he replied in a whisper, "But I want it so I can keep my GPA high. AP classes, you know, they're all the rage."

I laughed quietly at his absurd wink.

"Ah, Miss Bruin!" Mr. Raskin interrupted our whispered conversation, seemingly undisturbed by the fact that I had been talking when I shouldn't have been. Ah, crap, he had spotted me out. "It's nice to see you again."

I nodded, slouching in my chair even further. He seemed to be waiting for a verbal response, so I muttered, "Uh, yea, nice to see you again too, Mr. Raskin."

He smiled jovially at me and announced to the class at large, "Alright, well now that we have the pleasantries out of the way, I suppose we
should
take roll. Alright, Derek Adams?"

"Here," someone mumbled from the front of the classroom.

"Excellent, excellent. Sarah Arganbright? Good. Winter Bruin, is here. Carrie Burson? – excellent, excellent, Victor Chang? Good. Zackary Crowne?"

I jerked and choked on nothing at all, head suddenly spinning.

I
couldn't
have heard right.

Zackary Crowne?
On Mr. Raskin's attendance sheet
? Impossible. There was no way – there was going to be a silence following that name; no one would say "present" or "here", because it just…wasn't…possible… It was a
mistake
. A mistake so completely, utterly, totally, absolutely, unreservedly, wholly, downright
wrong
that it would outshine all other mistakes in its glory-filled wrongness for centuries to come.

But those divine gods and goddesses in the clouds of Mount Olympus often work in cruel ways.

"Here," a very familiar voice drawled softly from the back of the classroom.

I froze, wanting very badly to turn but too afraid to. My heart was thumping wildly in my chest as Martin poked my arm.

"Winter,
Winter
," he hissed.

I ignored him, shaking my head slightly.

No.

It couldn't be. I swallowed, my throat tight and hurting.

I turned to glance over my shoulder.

And I was stunned by what I saw.

Zack. Sitting two rows over and three seats back, leaning back casually in his seat and twirling a pencil between two elegant fingers, looking as unconcerned as if he randomly showed up on the first day of school in my Calculus class every year.

He lifted his head, his gaze colliding with mine, and the breath was knocked out of me by the sheer intensity of his golden eyes. My jaw must have dropped to the ground, because almost
immediately Mr. Raskin asked me cheerfully in-between Linda Daly and Nathan Eichler (yes, Rebecca's Nathan) without missing a beat if I was setting out to catch some flies. Automatically I closed my mouth, still staring at Zack.

I blinked rapidly.

"Martin," I said slowly, turning my head just slightly in Martin's direction but keeping my eyes on that
person
, unable to tear my gaze away from his. "Tell me I'm hallucinating. Tell me those mushrooms my mom put in the soup last night are the kind druggies use to get high.
Tell me
I'm not seeing Zack sitting a few feet away from me," I whispered, barely moving my lips.

"I think it's him," Martin said quietly, apparently also shocked.

That was all I needed. I turned away abruptly. "Mr. Raskin?" I said sweetly, raising my hand in the air. "May I go use the restroom?"

"Go ahead Winter, take the pass," he said merrily.

I hurried out of the room, grabbing the bright pink pass on the way out, keeping my eyes trained on the floor. It was only after I reached the safety of the bathroom when I let out a breath. I hugged my arms around myself; the draft coming in from the high window was chilly. I paced back and forth in the bathroom, a hurricane of emotions all vying for my attention, threatening to spill out if I didn't do some fast thinking, soon.

First and foremost was the shock, the sheer unreality to it all. Just
seeing
him – oh, god. He looked better than I remembered. How was it
possible
for him to be here? Next was the unexplainable happiness. I shook my head to myself. He was
back
. Back in California. Again,
how
? Why? My brain got stuck at those two simple questions.

I stopped in front of the sink and glanced at myself in the mirror. Frustrated, I dragged a hand through my wavy hair and, annoyed with having it down around my shoulders, tied it up in a ponytail. Suddenly I felt very self-conscious, and smoothed down the front of my t-shirt.

I sighed restlessly. I couldn't hide in here forever.

The moment I stepped out of the bathroom, someone grabbed my arm and started steering me away from the direction of Mr. Raskin's room.

"What the –" I looked up.

It was Zack. If I had been hallucinating earlier, I knew I wasn't now, because the hand on my elbow was definitely real.

We stopped in front of a drinking fountain. He was staring at me, the expression in his eyes unreadable.

I gaped at him, a thousand words wanting to escape my mouth, but I found I couldn't quite connect them properly. All these months I had been wishing for a chance to talk to him, face to face, and when I was finally given the opportunity, I had no idea what to say, where to start.

"Winter," he said tentatively, stepping forward.

"Zack?"

"How – what –" Before I knew how it had happened, we were hugging, his familiar scent all around me.

"Zack," I whispered, still in shock. I had no idea how to respond. "I can't…believe…"

"That was to convince you that I'm really here," he said in my ear, his closeness and warmth overwhelming.
How
did he know what I was thinking? "God, I missed you, Winter."

"
You
missed
me
?" I said, laughing a little. "How about let's switch that around and multiply it by infinity."

He chuckled and gazed into my eyes, a slow, radiant smile crossing his face. "It's so good to see you again."

"Did you grow
taller
?" I asked, letting my arms stay around his shoulders.

"Quite possibly," he grinned, golden eyes sparkling. "That would be cool."

"That would
not
be cool," I objected, "Because I haven't grown."

"Yes you have," he said softly, brushing his knuckles across my cheek and smiling gently, "More beautiful."

I stared at him, then laughed and hit him lightly on the chest. "You dorkus," I muttered. "Did they teach you corny pick up lines at that school?" I teased him. Then I remembered, and hit him harder, frowning. "You asshole!" I exclaimed, pushing him away. "Why didn't you return any of my letters?!" I crossed my arms and glared at him.