Love Storm (58 page)

He finally raised his eyes to mine, but I saw at once that my pleading had been no good. He was unbelievably angry. Reasoning with him at this stage was useless.

"No," he repeated in a low voice, looking away again. "Now get out of my way. I don't want to see you."

"You can cover your eyes, if you like, or I can blindfold you, if it's really that distressing," I said dryly. I could have sworn I saw his lips curl at the corners imperceptibly in a small smile, but then again it could have been a smirk. I grabbed the front of his shirt. "I promise you,
I am not going out with Gavin.
I never have, am not, and do not plan on doing so in the future either," I said steadily. "Ever," I added for good measure. "
We. Are. Just. Friends.
Gavin and I, that is," I clarified.

He met my gaze again, and I knew he didn't believe a single word of what I was saying. He was too far gone at the moment, too angry. I realized I had handled this all wrong, and that upset me even further. A furious Zack was an irrational Zack, and in retrospect, my best bet at that moment probably would have been to let him go and approach him some other time, but I was desperate, and determined to get him to listen right then.

And then Zack did the worst possible thing for both of us: he glared at me.

It was a deadly combination: it had been the harshness in his voice, the god forsaken stubbornness in his eyes, the excruciating sting of injustice, and it finally forced my rage to rise again with incredible speed. I punched him as hard as I could.

To Zack's credit, he took it without uttering a sound. He didn't even stumble backwards, just stood there, brought a hand to his jaw, working it gingerly with his eyes closed. I was as taken aback by my actions as he was, and I stared at him, mouth slightly open in horror, wanting very badly to say something –
needing
very badly to say something – but, as is often in the case at critical points in life, my body abandoned me to the dogs, and my voice would not work. Zack turned away abruptly and started walking towards his car.

I could do nothing except watch him walk away from me, straight backed, head still held high. There was such a strong feeling of surrealism that I felt as if I were stuck in the time between two seconds, stuck in an empty space in-between that wasn't really existent; I wasn't really there, I hadn't really just punched Zack, he wasn't really getting into his car off in the distance with the calmness and grace that he always possessed, even after getting decked, that calmness that I suddenly wanted to banish, because he should have been standing here in front of me still, screaming at me, glaring at me wrathfully, or
something
, because this – this walking away – this was much worse than any words or any look he could have given me.

And with that strong burst of emotion, the world came slamming back into focus with a very unpleasant and very sudden crash.

Way to go, Einstein.
Way
to
go
. So much for holding on to your temper.

"God
damn
it!" I swore with feeling, the curse ripped from my very soul. I sat down on the median because my legs couldn't hold me up any longer. I looked at my hands in my lap and saw that they were shaking. The knuckles on my right hand were red and throbbing.

"Screw you, Winter," I said to myself miserably. "You really
are
a bitch."

I curled up into a wretched little ball right there in the middle of the school parking lot and buried my head in my arms, hating the world, hating Zack's stubbornness, and hating myself above all.

Chapter 35: Our Evil Overlord

-Winter-

Top 10 People Who Hate Winter Bruin:

10. The lady who works the Shiseido counter at Macy's. Every time my mom buys their products, she sees me and immediately goes into a sour mood, glaring at me between smiling sweetly at my mom. Oh, how that Shiseido lady hates me.
9. My freshman English teacher, Mr. Brooks. I think he resented the fact that my arguments were better than his.
8. Old Mrs. Dickens and her dog, my former neighbors. I'm not sure who hated me more, Mrs. Dickens, a widow whose late husband fought in the Vietnam War, or good ol' Serge, that damned three-legged dog. It's a toss up between getting told I'm an ungrateful juvenile delinquent who should join the army and therefore bring us closer to world peace (yeah, I don't get it either), or being growled at and nearly attacked every time I tried to get into my own house. My own fricken house! Stupid dog.
7. Fiona Bruin (a.k.a. my mother dearest).
6. Coach Burling – he told me last week that I was bad for team morale and even worse for feelings of team unity because I cut practice – but only like twice a season when I'm truly having a horrible day or something. Yeesh. Just because
he
doesn't have a life doesn't mean his "girls" don't.
5. Zack's dad. Don't remember his first name, don't really care. Nasty man. Beautiful wife though.
4. The female population of Branner High…er, that's about 600 people.
3. Larissa Kretcher and her posse – they're not included in #4 because they can't possibly be human. They're like…aliens from the show
Mutant X
or something; they're
that
creepy.
2. Gavin Pennington…this has to be one of the saddest.
1. Zackary Crowne, probably tied only with myself.

Yeah, I had a lot of time on my hands that afternoon to think. So what? If you were as depressed as I was you would have come up with a morose list like that too. Crap, that doesn't come out to ten people that hate me, it comes out to 610 plus an old three-legged dog. How utterly encouraging.

So there I was, sitting on a median in Branner High School's student parking lot, all by my lonesome, making up stupid lists in my head, looking pathetic, when the cross country team finished practice. Obviously Zack was not among them, as he had driven off in a squeal of tires, but the current #2 person who hated me was.

By the time I saw him it was too late to run away – he had already plopped himself down next to me, a sweaty mess of long limbs and flopping brown hair.

"Well, this is a nice view," he commented cheerfully.

"Gavin, you shouldn't be talking to me. You hate me, remember?" I mumbled.

His green eyes registered surprise. "What? I don't hate you. I like you, remember?" He winked at me.

I
really
wasn't in the mood. "You hate me."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"We are so childish."

"You only just noticed?" he snickered. "I don't hate you. Know why?"

"Why?" I muttered.

"I can't afford to hate people," he said simply.

"And why's that?" I asked listlessly.

He looked at me in surprise again. "What? You mean I haven't told you yet?" He slapped his knee, appearing quite astonished. "That's right, I
haven't
told you yet!"

"Told me what?" I asked, the question mixed with a weary exhalation.

"You can't tell anyone," Gavin said in a hushed voice, emerald eyes wide. "Promise?"

"I promise," I said, too tired to roll my eyes.

"It's all part of…the Master Diabolical Plan!" he cried, flinging his arms into the air dramatically. "I'm planning on taking over the world," he informed me solemnly. "That's why I can't afford to hate people. I'll need all the allies I can get. And I suppose it doesn't sound very pleasant, when you think about it," he said thoughtfully, "Hating you." He made a face. "Yeah, that's no good, I can tell."

I couldn't help it – I cracked a small smile.

"That's what I want to see," Gavin beamed.

"When you take over the world," I asked softly, "Can I do it with you?"

"Yes!" he shouted, jumping up and pumping his fists victoriously. "Gavin Pennington scores again! Yes, you can help me! I was hoping you'd say that! I need all the help I can get. You can be the brains behind the operation. You can be my trusted lieutenant. I'll just be the evil and merciless yet dashingly handsome and rugged leader figure. Sound good?"

I laughed. "Sounds really good," I smiled as he sat back down next to me.

"Winter, I'm sorry about yesterday," he said seriously.

"I am too," I said, then realized what he had said with a start. "What? What do
you
have to be sorry for?"

"I didn't accept your rejection with the best of graces," he admitted.

I laughed humorlessly. "Under the circumstances, I would say you did."

"So, no hard feelings?" Gavin grinned.

"None over here. You?" I asked.

"Of course not," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "You're gonna help me take over the world. I can't have hard feelings when it comes to you." He patted the top of my head happily.

"I hate it when people do that," I griped. "And somehow everyone likes to do it. Even Eva."

"I'm just reasserting the fact that I'm taller and eviler than you," he replied merrily.

"Oh,
freude
," I said sarcastically. That's the one word I know in German.

He laughed. "
Hålts maul
, little one," he said cheekily.

"What's that mean?" I asked curiously.

"You don't want to know. Now tell me. Why are you still so sad?"

I sighed and was about to speak when he said, "No, no, no, don't say anything, I can see it on your face. Zack, right? He didn't show up for practice today."

I nodded.

"Should have figured it'd have something to do with you," he said, but not in a mean way. "What happened?"

"I punched him," I said.

Gavin took one look at the regretful expression on my face and was immediately roaring with laughter.

"It's not funny!" I declared, though tell that to my mouth, because it was twitching upwards at the corners.

"You punched him!" Gavin was beside himself, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. "Are you being serious?"

"Well…don't look at me like that! Yeah, I'm being serious!"

And he was off again, laughing like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"Wow, you
are
brave," he said appreciatively, once he composed himself enough to be able to speak. "That is why I want you to back me up when I become Evil Overlord of the universe," he said matter-of-factly.

For the record, I don't think I've ever met anyone more incapable of being evil than Gavin.

Then he turned serious. "Why'd you punch him?"

"I was mad, okay?" I said, distressed, wringing my hands. "I grabbed him before he could go to practice and shoved him here into the parking lot so I could talk to him, because he'd been avoiding me all day! I couldn't think of how else to get him to listen. And he didn't even listen," I said, feeling fed-up and depressed all over again. "He just got angry. I'm no good at handling people when they're angry because I get mad too!"

"And violent," he said with a ghost of a smirk.

"And violent," I agreed, rather aggrieved. "It's a lose-lose situation all around."

Gavin patted me on the back. I almost expected him to say, "There, there, sweetie, everything will be okay," but luckily for the sanity of the universe, our Evil Overlord may be crazy, but he isn't effeminate. "I'm going to go have a manly man talk with him on Monday," he said firmly.

"No, you're not," I said. "He's really mad I socked him. He'll be looking for any excuse to pass it on to someone else, all the better if it's you."

"I don't care," Gavin said. He sounded like he really didn't. "He can hit me all he wants. I think he's got so much stuff bottled up inside of him he'll be glad of the release. He needs to get rid of all of it somehow anyway."

I was shocked. "I'm not going to let you go get beat up by him! That's like sending you to the firing squad! Have you seen him when he's mad? He's scary!" I said wildly. "He's like – psychotic! He'll beat you up until there's only scattered
molecules
of you left! Not even molecules –
atoms
! Or even less – electrons and protons and
neutrons
!"

"Now that's not a very nice way to talk about your future husband, Winter," Gavin said reproachfully.

"Zack's not my future husband!" I snorted.

Gavin smiled mischievously. "Wanna bet?"

I gave him an incredulous look.

"Thought so," he said jovially before I could speak.

I clamped my mouth shut. I'd been had. I hate it when I've been had; it's such a stupid feeling.