Love Storm (29 page)

As I showered, I wondered what I would do with myself in the empty hours of winter break. In years past I had hung out with Brock every day, goofing off and enjoying my freedom from school, however short-lived it was. Now though, I couldn't bring myself to hang out with him. It was pointless.

A couple minutes later I dried myself off, toweling my hair and pulling on some comfortable clothes.

Dinner came and went, and I sat there at the table silently, not meeting anyone's eye as always.

After dinner, though, I had no homework to do. It was winter break. None of the teachers had been evil enough to assign work. I wandered around the foyer and opened up the piano again. I hadn't touched it since that day my father had told me I would be finishing high school in that crap American school in Italy.

I stood there for a long while, just staring at the familiar ivory keys and running my fingertips lightly over some of the black keys. I dragged the back of my fingers over them in a silent glissando and sat down. An old idea came back to me, and I started playing again, warming up with some scales and arpeggios. I was rusty. It wasn't too bad though. After I finished warming up, I searched for that old piece of music, and found it sitting underneath my Beethoven book of Sonatas.

Franz Liszt's
Waldesrauschen
.

I released a breath and cocked my head a little. Here was how I'd make it up to Winter.

Chapter 23: Drowning in His Sorrows

-Winter-

I wanted to drive over to Zack's house and make him explain to me.
Make
me understand – I wanted to know whatever it was he felt he couldn't explain.

I was fuming when I got into Tristan's car.

"Woah, someone's on the war path," was his comment.

"Better not get in the way," Anthony added. Goodness. Did these people have
any
empathy
whatsoever
?

"What's wrong?" was Eva's gentle greeting.

"Zack!" I exploded. "He's what's wrong! That stupid – stupid –
nutter
has been avoiding me and he won't tell me why!"

"You're not British; you better not use British terms," Anthony advised. He was sitting next to me in the backseats.

"It makes you sound like a wannabe," Tristan called back to me.

From the passenger's seat, Eva turned around to glare at Anthony, then fixed Tristan with an angry stare.

"Hey, we were just trying to help," Anothony said, grinning, holding up two hands in surrender as we drove out of Branner High's parking lot.

"So what's up? He's been avoiding you?" Eva asked, turning back around to face the front.

"Yeah," I said moodily. "I don't suppose
you
would happen to know why, Ms. Gossip Queen?"

"Hey,
I
am not a gossip queen," Eva replied, sounding slightly offended. "It's not my fault if people like to tell me about what's going on in others' personal lives."

Tristan, Anthony, and I all snorted simultaneously, and she scowled at us again.

"But do you
know
?" I asked, looking out the window at the passing houses.

Eva shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She wouldn't lie to me, I knew she wouldn't.

"Do you?" I pressed.

"I might have an idea why," she said awkwardly. "But it's just an idea," she added on quickly.

"Well, hit me with it then," I said. "An idea's better than nothing."

"Uh…Well, you see, the thing is… I'm not –
sure
…uhm…haha, gee, this is…… uhm, well, see, it's like this –"

"Just tell her already," Tristan and Anthony said at the same time. Eva frowned at them again.

"You two are much too alike for my comfort," she muttered. "Talk about being brothers."

"Eva? Can you tell me?" I said, not wanting the conversation to get off track.

She stilled and looked down at her lap determinedly, then sighed. "I'm guessing he hasn't told you yet that he has to move?"

I gaped at her. "
What?!
"

"Exactly my own reaction. So he hasn't told you?" Eva said sympathetically.

"No! I had no –
idea
– where's he moving to? He's moving
also
?! No way! What
is
this? Let's-All-Abandon-Winter Month or something?" I slumped back in my seat.

"He's moving to Italy," Eva informed me.

I was livid. "God! Why didn't he tell me? Even after we kissed –"

It was the three Westleys' turn to stare at me, even Tristan, who took his eyes off the road long enough to look at me from the rearview mirror as if I had just sprouted a tail.

I clamped a hand over my mouth. "I did
not
just say that," I mumbled against my palm, eyes wide.

All of their reactions were different and simultaneous.

"WHAT?! YOU
KISSED
?! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME, WINTER BRIUN?!" Eva shrieked.

Tristan settled with a satisfied smirk. "About time."

Anthony just looked at me admiringly. "Looks like old Crowne finally got the guts, eh?"

"I am
so
not talking to you anymore," Eva said huffily. "What kind of best friend
are
you? The second I saw you after school on the day Mark O'Brian kissed me, I told you about it. How long ago did this happen, huh?"

"Mark O'Brian?" Tristan growled, eyes flashing. "Who's that?"

Anthony laughed, cerulean eyes twinkling. "Don't worry about it Tristan, you don't need to waste your big-brother wrath on Mark O'Brian. He's not worth it. It's so much more interesting listening to Eva and Winter's drama."

"Zack kissed me three weeks ago," I said miserably in response to Eva's question. "What the hell was it supposed to mean, I have no idea. You don't just go around kissing someone and then not tell them that you're moving to Italy. By the way Anthony, I like your shoes."

"Yeah, you've told me," he said, looking down at his black and grey Etnies happily.

"Can we please stay on topic?" Eva whined. "God, I hate talking with the three of you all at once. We always digress. Winter! Three weeks?!"

"Yeah," I said. "Eva, I'm sorry, honest. It slipped my mind. And I'm not trying to make up an excuse, it really did."

She sighed. "Okay. So…what are you going to do?"

"How am I supposed to know?" I wailed. "Yell at him? Punch him? Shoot him and mutilate his body beyond recognition?"

"Why don't you kiss him? Have a hot make-out session," Tristan suggested, grinning at me through the rearview mirror.

"Tristan!" I moaned. "You're not helping."

"I'm being serious."

"Doesn't look like it," Eva sniffed.

"Winter," Tristan said firmly. "That guy is so whipped over you. I don't think he knows it, and I don't think you know it either, but he is. Has been since the first time I met him. It's so obvious."

I scoffed. "Yeah, right. Why would Zack be completely whipped over some girl –"

"The thing is," Tristan cut in gently. "He's
not
head over heels with just 'some girl'. It's you. That makes all the difference."

We were all quiet for a moment, before he ruined it by complaining, "Listen to me. I'm sounding more and more like a shrink every day. I really need to get away from Branner."

Eva slapped him on the shoulder. "Shut up, Tristan," she said. She seemed to be thinking hard. Later in the afternoon I found out just what it was she had been pondering about in that pretty little head of hers.

"You can't just let it go like this, Winter," she lectured me as we made pizza for dinner. I didn't know how she did it, but Eva made the best homemade pizzas I'd ever tasted in my whole life. She had decided to make it tonight as a sort of treat for everyone to celebrate winter vacation. "You can't. Higher, please."

I just shrugged a little and obeyed her request, tilting the bowl of pizza sauce at a steeper angle so she could spoon it out onto the crust.

"Thanks. Pepperoni, please."

I was her assistant chef. I turned around and found the bowl of said ingredient sitting by the microwave and started helping her layering it on top of the sauce. She had once explained to me that putting it under the cheese kept it from burning too quickly. I picked up most of life's little facts this way from her.

"So here's what you're going to do," Eva continued. "You're going to confront him about it."

"What? I'm going to drive over to Zack's house and bang on his door and yell at him to come out or something? By the way, you've got a spot of flour on your cheek." I wiped it off for her.

"Thanks. Yeah, that's what you're going to do."

I stared at her. "You can't be serious."

"I am," she said sternly. "You can't just let him leave. He's being a coward. And I'm sorry too. I should have said something sooner, since I've known about it for so long. I just figured he would eventually tell you himself. I had no idea he'd drag it out this long.
Ahora el queso, por favor
."

I grabbed the bag of shredded mozzarella out of the refrigerator. "You've been studying too much for Spanish. What am I going to say?"

Eva paused and considered. "I have no idea," she admitted. "But as long as you go to his house, the job will be half done. I'm sure you'll figure something out. You're a smart gal." She tapped the top of my head, probably sprinkling it with flour at the same time.

"Must you always bring to mind the fact that I'm shorter than you?" I grumbled.

"Yup," Eva said cheerily. "It's the only thing that ever brightens my day."

"Ha, right," I grinned.

xxxxx

As it turns out, Eva is way too big an influence on me. Someday, I really should sever all my ties with her and drift away; that way I wouldn't get into so much trouble from her hare-brained
schemes that almost never work out. Because that was what happened with her idea to force me to confront Zack: I got in trouble over it.

Every time I went over to his house, he wasn't there. I didn't know if he
was
there but was having everyone make excuses for him, or if he really was not at home. The first time I went, Victoria came to the door. She kindly told me that Zack was out (where, she didn't know or specify) and invited me in to have some food. I politely declined and asked her to tell him that I'd dropped by and that I wanted to see him.

The second time I swung by, it wasn't so easy. His parents were home.

Victoria answered the door again. "Winter! What a pleasant surprise. Zack's not home again," she said, then whispered, "You'd better leave, dear. Mr. Crowne is –"

"Who's there, Victoria?" Mr. Crowne asked, approaching behind her.

I gritted my teeth.

"Oh, it's you," he said coldly, looking at me over Victoria's shoulder and pushing the housekeeper to one side so he could fully face me. I was proud to say that for once, I wasn't being fully looked down upon when someone was mad at me. Mr. Crowne was barely three inches taller than me.

"Yes," I said as calmly as I could. "I just wanted to see Zack."

"Well,
Zackary
isn't home right now," Mr. Crowne said. "And he won't be in very much for all of winter vacation. He's preparing to move to Italy at the end of your fall semester. So don't come around again." He shut the door in my face.

The third time I went around, Mrs. Crowne answered the door.

Her eyes lit up when she saw me. "Winter! How nice of you to drop by! How are you?"

"I'm fine," I said, smiling slightly. "I was just wondering –"

"Zack's not home right now," she said gently, her striking golden eyes gazing at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry. He has told you that he will be transferring to an American school, has he not?"

"Not quite in so many words," I said truthfully.
In fact, in no words at all
, I thought to myself. "Anyway," I said, looking down a little. It was hard to meet her eyes when she was looking at me that understandingly. "Uhm, can – could you just tell him for me that I dropped by and that I wanted to see him? Please?"

"Of course," Mrs. Crowne said warmly. "I definitely will. You know, I would love to invite you in –" She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But, I'm sorry to say, my husband is not very… fond of you."