Love Storm (54 page)

"Came to see you, of course, Eva
dahling
," I grinned good-naturedly, entering her house when she moved aside to let me. It had now been months since they'd moved out of their home in Branner, but it still threw me off a little every time I went into their new (well, not technically so new anymore) house. I glanced around the living room – there was a rumpled blanket on the couch where Eva must have been taking a nap.

My best friend looked at me sideways. "Look, if this is about the other day…"

Ah. Now we were getting somewhere. "Yeah?" I prompted her.

"Tristan said to tell you again that he's sorry he couldn't visit you," she said in a monotone. Now that I really looked at her in the bright afternoon sunlight pouring through the huge window in their living room, Eva really did seem kind of tired. She looked pale despite her natural tan, and her normally bright blue eyes were dull.

Instinctively I moved closer to her and placed a hand on her forehead to see if she was running a fever. Suddenly my concern for her outweighed any harsh feelings or curiosity I had had before. "You doing okay?" I found myself echoing Gavin's earlier words. Nope, no fever.

She sighed, collapsing on the couch on top of the blanket, and seemingly with that motion, all her walls came tumbling down too. "No," she said miserably.

"Oh Ev," I said.

She couldn't quite seem to handle that nickname, because a tear leaked its way out of her eye. She brushed it away impatiently. "It's my dad," she said angrily, her voice trembling. "He went and got himself a fiancée."

"
WHAT?!
" I shrieked, nearly falling off the couch. "A fiancée?! As in, he's getting
married
?" I stared at her, openmouthed, grabbing the nearest object, a hapless pillow, and clutching it with white knuckles.

"Remarried," Eva corrected in a faint voice. Leave it to her to catch little details like that even in a moment like this.

Okay, so Mr. Westley wasn't a
bad
looking man – all those beautiful Westley children had to get their looks from somewhere, right? But come on now, a fiancée? He and Denise had only been divorced for a little over a year now. A girlfriend, okay, that might be understandable. Casual dating would be alright. But getting
remarried
? What is wrong with people these days? I was willing to bet Denise, for one, was not about to exchange wedding vows again any time soon.

Eva nodded gloomily, her eyes still watery and red. "You're invited, by the way. It's going to be over Christmas break up in Tahoe, with the snow and all." She saved the pillow from my death grip and sadly plumped it.

I shook my head slowly. "Who gets married in the dead of winter?"

"You know that old rhyme, the one with all the months? 'If you wed in bleak November, only joys will come, remember. When December snow falls fast, marry, and true love will last.'" Eva looked quite dejected.

I rubbed her back comfortingly. "
True love
, my ass," I snorted. "The only ones in your family who are experiencing true love right now are Tristan and yourself. I guess the joy of bringing up six children isn't enough for your old padre, eh? Had to go and get himself a girl. Honestly."

Eva cracked a small smile. Score, two points for Winter Bruin! "We had dinner with her the other day," she said.

"Friday. The day I came over, right?" I said understandingly.

"Yeah," she said, looking apologetic. "I'm –"

"Don't worry about it," I said, waving it off with one hand while still rubbing her back with the other.

"We weren't supposed to tell anyone," Eva sighed. "It's kind of hard keeping a secret from you though."

I grinned. "I know, I'm just too damn nosy for anyone's good," I said.

Eva laughed – yes, ding ding ding! Another two points for yours truly! "I know, jeez, what's wrong with you?" she joked.

I chuckled. "So…what's she like? What's her name?"

"Emma Wilbourne. She's a fashion designer," Eva said, as if the fiancée's profession explained it all.

"Ah," I nodded wisely. "Is she…nice? Pretty? Ugly? Pretty ugly? Boring? Horrid?
Weird?
"

Eva shook her head. "No, she's not weird. To be fair, she's actually very nice."

"That's good, right?" I asked, searching her worried face.

"Yeah…yeah, it's good, I guess," she replied, a faraway look in her eyes. "It's just…"

"What?" I prodded gently.

"I mean, she's pretty darn cool. She's a fashion designer, you know? The little kids love her. What if, you know, they end up…I dunno, liking Emma better than they like Mom? That'd be horrible."

"Eva, they're not going to love Emma better than they love your mom. Trust me on this one. How can you even compare them?" I said, aghast.

"I dunno," she repeated herself, shrugging helplessly. "How can they not?" she asked desperately. The poor pillow in her hands had now gone through a death grip (courtesy of me) and five minutes of excessive plumping (courtesy of Eva).

"Denise is their
mother
," I said firmly, rescuing the unfortunate pillow once again and setting it behind me. "She's
your
mother. You're family, for crying out loud! In my humble opinion it is impossible for you or any of your other siblings to love anyone the way you love your mom. There's an intimacy in the relationship between mothers and children that is never going to happen between children and a stepparent. And I also think you're jumping way ahead of yourself and the situation. You're pre-worrying. Once the novelty wears off of her being a fashion designer and cool and all, they won't be so obsessed with her, you'll see. And I'm sure Emma's nice to them now because she has to be – she was meeting her fiancée's children for the first time. If this wedding really goes through and she moves in, she's not going to be that nice anymore. There's stress from domestic life and living together, you know? Nobody's perfect. Nobody can be nice
all
the friggin' time. If someone is, I'll be the first to say that they're seriously mental."

Eva chuckled lightly. "I know you would be," she murmured. We were quiet for a long moment as she digested all this. She sighed. "You're right, of course," said Eva, giving me a weak smile. Then she yawned.

"Tired?" I said sympathetically, patting her on the shoulder. "Sorry I interrupted your nap."

"'Sall right," she said through another yawn. "I am tired though," she added on. The whole topic triggered a sense of déjà vu in me, and though I couldn't put my finger on exactly where it was coming from, I knew the reason was right –
there
– in my head, only
just
out of reach…damn it; déjà vu can be frustrating sometimes.

"Kay, well I'll let you sleep then," I said, getting up to leave. "No, no, you go back to sleep, I'll let myself out. Yes, I know the key's in the cinderblock," I grinned.

Eva grinned back, settling herself under the blanket. "Wait," she called out as I opened the door. I paused, hand on the doorknob. "I'll call you tomorrow. And we'll hang out over the weekend." It was both an offer and an extension of her apology.

"Like,
duh
," I rolled my eyes in a valley girl imitation, flipping my hair for good effect. I bit back another grin. All was forgiven; we wouldn't have it any other way.

Eva laughed quietly. "And thanks," she added softly.

I nodded. She didn't have to say what she was thanking me for. After all, there are some things that don't need to be verbalized between best friends.

xxxxx

Being back on good terms with Eva did miracles to my overall mood. I was even able to take all my mom's criticisms in stride without retorting
too
nastily. Wednesday morning dawned bright, clear, and cold – typical end of October weather. I loved it. Everything was going great that day. I could do no wrong. I was running on a high of natural happiness – or maybe it was luck? I could feel it, whatever it was. There was an electric energy surrounding the day that I reveled in. I got an exam returned in Spanish class, which I had aced. Our tennis team hosted a home game against another school that afternoon and we won easily, seven matches to none. Coach Burling was so ecstatic he had cancelled practice for Wednesday afternoon.

Thursday morning was interesting to say the least, but as pleasant as the day before.

Zack approached me after Calculus. "Hey, I gotta talk to you."

"Okay, about what?" I said curiously as we left the classroom together.

We stopped in the hall. I leaned back against the wall and he turned to face me, dark eyebrows knitted together. "Remember when I told you Gavin was going to ask you to the Halloween dance?"

"Yeah," I nodded, wondering where this was going to go.

"Did he ever ask you?"

"No," I said.

"Really?" Zack said, looking surprised.

I smiled. "Really. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno, just yesterday…you came out to the track, and I saw you on the bleachers, and Gavin went to talk to you and stuff, so I thought…" he trailed off. "He really didn't ask you?"

"He really didn't ask me," I confirmed.

"And you're okay with that?"

"Yeah," I said. "Why wouldn't I be? It's not like I like him like
that
or anything. To be honest with you, I don't think Gav even likes me like that either."

Zack tilted his head to the side. "You can't be serious."

"What?" I said, puzzled.

"You said that you don't think Gav likes you in a way other than as friends. You can't be serious," he said again.

I frowned. "What do you mean? I am being serious. I don't think he does. It doesn't seem like he does…" I trailed off, and, seeing the expression of incredulity on his face, I said again, still mystified, "What?"

Zack smiled a genuine smile. "You're really naïve sometimes," he said, obviously amused. He stepped closer to me, and I was reminded of that winter night nearly a year ago, when he had come to my house…I shivered involuntarily and felt my breath catch as he reached toward me and played with my hair. "He was touching your hair," Zack said in a rough whisper, gently twisting a strand of it around his fingers, "And caressing your cheek…" He brushed the back of his knuckles along my cheekbone and goose bumps erupted along my neck. "Looking into your eyes," he continued in that intimate whisper, and going for the kill by catching my gaze. The air left my lungs as I found myself falling into those pools of brilliant gold. He got that look in his eyes again, the one I had only seen twice before, the one that meant that he was just about to –

– just about to step away and grin impishly at me, breaking the spell.

"Convinced yet?" he smirked. "Gavin likes you."

I blinked. For a moment I had the crazy urge to grab the front of his t-shirt and say, "No, I don't think I'm quite convinced yet, come back here and finish what you started!" But of course I mastered the impulse and said instead, steadily, albeit rather dazedly, "Uh, if you say so."

Suddenly his grin disappeared. "You're being honest, right?" Zack said.

"About what?"

"About not liking him."

I didn't know why it mattered so much to him, but I said reassuringly, "I don't like Gavin in the romantic way, Zack, trust me."

He nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I do," he said honestly.

"I'm glad you do," I said, unable to fight back the huge smile that spread on my face.

He winked, definitely too rakish and good looking for anyone's good, especially mine. "Later, princess."

"Later," I said as we parted ways once again in the middle of the busy hall during brunch, wondering why he still called me that weird little nickname.

I should have known it was all too good to last.

xxxxx

Gavin approached me after school, pushing me cheerfully into an empty classroom as he said, "Come on, I haven't got much time, I gotta run to practice in like five minutes."

"So what did you want?" I said, bemused, once he had closed the door behind him, sealing out most of the noise from the hallway.

He looked down at me from that impossible height, more serious than I had ever seen him before. "Will you go out with me?"

I stared up at him in shock. The only thing that registered in my stupid brain was,
Oh my god, Zack was right.

When half a minute passed and I still hadn't said anything, he shifted uncomfortably. "Winter?" Gavin said hesitantly, looking worried.

I mouthed wordlessly. "Uh, I – I –" My voice sounded much higher than normal.
Oh, god, I should have seen this coming
, I thought to myself furiously. I really should have. I should have taken Zack seriously. Talk about irony. Now what was I going to do?

"Gavin," I said weakly. "I – you – I –" I hated myself for being such a stuttering idiot when this obviously was a big moment for him. He had gotten up the unbelievable courage to ask something like this, and I, the most insensitive person known to mankind, here
I
was, not making this any easier for him. My mind was working at a ferocious pace. What to say, what to
say
? I wasn't exactly skilled in this department. Think,
think
, goddammit, Winter, what is
wrong
with you? Say something! But not just anything!