by M. J. Hearle
Thinking about the cats and wondering why she felt oddly protective of them, Winter was distantly aware that Billy Gleeson had finished his story and was sitting down. She felt a moment of mild panic as Mrs Lathkey surveyed the class for someone to pick next. Of course Winter hadn’t done her assignment – in fact, she’d forgotten all about it once she’d left the classroom on Monday. What with Blake, the cats, and her lack of sleep, she hadn’t had the mental energy to contemplate something as trivial as homework. Still preoccupied with crafting an excuse, she felt a glimmer of relief when Sam was called on to read his work. She was saved for the time being. She hoped his story was long enough to last until the bell rang.
As he began to speak, Winter found herself, despite her tired, muddle-headed state, becoming entranced by his story. Set in the French countryside in the late seventeenth century, Sam’s story was told through the eyes of a teenager named Stephen Pascal, who was forced into a wolf hunt by his father and brothers as a cruel rite of passage. As Sam drew near the conclusion of his story, Winter thought she detected a trace of melancholy behind his words. Almost as though the story meant more to him than a creative writing exercise.
‘. . . Damien followed the wolf into the cave, and stood with his rifle aimed at the animal’s twitching snout. Its bright yellow eyes glowed balefully in the darkness. Behind him he heard his father urge him to pull the trigger. “Do it, Damien. Kill the beast.” However, he hesitated. After all, this animal wasn’t evil, despite what his father and brothers had declared. It was simply obeying its instinct as a predator. It didn’t hunt for pleasure or cruelty, only for sustenance. It was dangerous, yes, but not a monster. Who was he to sentence it to death?
‘“What are you waiting for?” his father demanded shrilly. Damien heard his two brothers’ sniggering echo through the cave. They thought he was a coward. Maybe they were right.
‘Offering a silent apology to the wolf, Damien closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. The blast was deafening, and the smell of gunpowder filled his nose. When he opened his eyes, the wolf’s body was crumpled at the back of the cave. It seemed he was his father’s son after all.’
Sam looked up at Mrs Lathkey. ‘That’s all I wrote.’
Mrs Lathkey pushed her glasses back up from the tip of her nose. ‘Very interesting, Sam. Not exactly what I had in mind when I set the assignment, but entertaining regardless. Thank you, you can sit down.’
Sam nodded and closed his notebook. Winter noticed Jasmine offer him a supportive smile. Evidently her rage over his indiscretion with Becky Lane had passed. Mrs Lathkey crossed to the front of the room. ‘Who would like to read a section of their assignment next?’ Predictably, nobody volunteered, much to her evident frustration. ‘C’mon, people, one of you must be proud of your work.’
Winter ducked down in her chair, praying that she wouldn’t be called on. Just as Mrs Lathkey turned in her direction, the bell rang for the end of the period. Winter let out a sigh of relief and began to pack her books away. It was a lucky escape. She’d have to remember to do the assignment when she got home today, because she doubted her luck would hold.
Chapter 28
Winter sat in the cafeteria, her eyes fixed on her plate of food and not on the nauseating spectacle opposite her. Whatever problems Jasmine and Sam had been experiencing seemed to have been well and truly cleared up, judging by the way Jasmine was lavishing attention on him now. Winter had to stifle her gag reflex as Jasmine seductively fed Sam fries from her plate. It never failed to astound Winter how quickly her friend could accelerate a relationship. Sam had only started at Trinity on Monday, and here it was, just three days later, and Jasmine had already generated a lover’s quarrel and the obligatory makeup session. If she continued at this pace they’d be married and divorced by the end of the week.
Jasmine shook her head, marvelling at Sam. ‘I just can’t believe that story came out of you.’
Sam seemed bemused. ‘Why? You thought I was an idiot?’
‘As a matter of a fact, I did. A big, beautiful idiot.’
Sam tried to look upset, but couldn’t hide his grin. ‘I’m sorry for exceeding your expectations.’
‘So you should be. If I’d known you were such a nerd I wouldn’t have asked you out.’ Sam threw a chip at her, which Jasmine laughingly deflected. Her demeanour suddenly grew serious as something beyond Winter’s shoulder caught her attention. ‘Speaking of nerds . . .’
Winter heard footsteps coming up behind her.
‘Hi, Winter,’ Harry Francis said, ignoring Jasmine’s look of distaste.
‘Harry. Everything okay?’ Winter hadn’t expected to see Harry until her services as photographer extraordinaire were required for the next Trinity Times issue.
‘Yeah, everything’s fine.’ For once he didn’t seem to be regarding Winter with condescension. His aspect wasn’t exactly friendly, but it was certainly friendlier.
‘You don’t happen to still have that weird photo you showed me on Tuesday, do you?’
Winter relaxed – so that’s what he wanted. The graveyard photograph! She remembered how impressed he’d been by her odd picture.
‘I think so. Why?’ She was pretty sure the photograph was in the back of her diary where she’d left it.
‘It’s just that I was in a chatroom last night talking to a guy who expressed some interest in seeing it. He offered me fifty bucks, actually.’
‘You’re serious?’ Winter couldn’t believe there were people out there who would pay money for such a thing.
Harry nodded. ‘I’ll give you twenty for it.’
Winter pondered his offer for a moment before deciding that there was no reason to keep the photograph. She might as well get some money for it, even if it sounded like she was getting the short end of the deal.
‘Sure. Why not?’ She pulled her diary out of her bag and turned to the back, expecting to see the photograph nestled there. It wasn’t. Frowning, Winter fanned the pages of the diary, hoping the photograph would fall out, but was disappointed.
‘That’s weird,’ she said, digging into the bottom of her bag in case the photograph had fallen out and got mixed up in the detritus. ‘It’s not here.’
Harry seemed a little deflated. ‘Well, if you find it, let me know.’ He left Winter feeling confused. She was positive she’d replaced the photograph in the diary after showing it to Blake in her garage. Where could it have gone?
Jasmine and Sam were watching her with curiosity.
‘What was all that about?’ Jasmine asked, picking up a fry and dipping it into the ketchup.
Winter shrugged, but couldn’t completely ignore the sense of unease in the pit of her stomach. ‘Nothing.’
Chapter 29
After school finished, Winter lingered with Jasmine on the front steps while she waited for Sam. Jasmine had just told her excitedly that he was taking her to Adagio’s, the Italian restaurant on Hatherly Street, before the concert started tonight. Winter had tried to share her friend’s enthusiasm, but something about her expression must have tipped Jasmine off that she was heavily preoccupied.
Jasmine touched her arm sympathetically. ‘I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about. Blake wouldn’t have taken the ticket back if he wasn’t seriously considering coming.’
Winter sighed and caught herself looking hopefully towards the parking lot for any sign of Blake’s truck. It was the third time she’d checked since she and Jasmine had arrived here. Yesterday Winter had loitered out the front of the school, ostensibly to watch Sam’s football team tryout with Jasmine. Secretly, she’d hoped that whatever whim had brought Blake to her school previously might grip him again. He hadn’t appeared, and after the tryouts had finished, Winter rode home feeling deflated.
‘I don’t know, Jas. I kind of begged him to take it.’ It was amazing how quickly her emotions had yo-yoed from the initial positivity on Tuesday night, after Blake had accepted the ticket, to this creeping self-doubt. Lack of sleep due to the cat
invasion was probably contributing to her negative outlook. And if only she’d seen him yesterday, she probably wouldn’t be feeling this low. She cursed herself for not getting his phone number when she had the chance – a simple call or text message would have clarified everything for her.
Jasmine was watching her suspiciously. ‘You’re still going to come, aren’t you?’
Winter hesitated. ‘Maybe.’
‘You have to come!’ Jasmine implored. ‘I was thinking we could both go Goth. Mess with the heads of Smotely and his crew. It’d be awesome!’
Winter shrugged. ‘I don’t have any black eyeliner. Besides, you and Sam will have fun without me.’
The more Winter thought about it, the more the idea of playing third wheel to Sam and Jasmine lacked appeal. Sitting in the cafeteria watching the lovefest had been bad enough; Winter dreaded how the two of them would behave around each other outside of the confines of school.
‘Of course we will, but we’ll have just as much fun with you,’ Jasmine explained, not letting the topic drop without a fight. ‘Please, Winnie! It’ll do you good to get out of the house. Blake’s going to come. I know it!’
Winter wished she could share Jasmine’s certainty. The front doors to the school swung open and Sam appeared at the top of the steps. He saw Jasmine and Winter and started down towards them, giving her the opportunity to steer the conversation away from her insecurities.
‘Good to see you two sorted everything out,’ she whispered, unable to keep from smirking. Jasmine’s dramas were so frequent and overblown it was difficult for her to take them seriously.
Luckily, Jasmine was too busy watching Sam to notice her sardonic expression. ‘It wasn’t a big deal,’ she mumbled underneath her breath, rushing through her words before Sam got within earshot. ‘Just a miscommunication, really. Sammy wasn’t to know that Becky Layne was a nasty skank. Hey there, honey!’ she said, lunging at Sam like some sort of predatory insect attacking its prey.
‘What were you guys talking about?’ Sam said, eyeing them suspiciously.
Jasmine turned to Winter. ‘Winter isn’t sure she’ll come to the concert tonight. Convince her.’
Sam looked genuinely disappointed Winter might not be joining them. ‘Why not? What’s the matter?’
Winter shrugged, uncomfortable discussing the situation with Sam. ‘I haven’t decided for sure yet.’
‘I was looking forward to meeting your boyfriend. Jas told me he’s new in town too.’
‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ she stated a little more indignantly than she meant to. ‘Anyway, he’s probably not coming.’
‘You don’t know that for sure,’ Jasmine said. ‘I think you’re just trying to talk yourself out of it.’
‘Why would I do that?’
Jasmine shrugged. ‘Because you’re nervous.’
Winter sighed, irritated at having to defend herself. Unfortunately she couldn’t ignore the element of truth in Jasmine’s accusation. Is that what she was doing? Trying to talk herself out of going because she was scared, not that Blake might ditch her, but that he might actually show up?
Sam’s gaze jumped between Jasmine and Winter, as though wary of offering his opinion and potentially upsetting one of them. Eventually he said, ‘Well, I hope you change your mind.’
‘Anyway, it’s not like you’ve got anything better to do, Win,’ Jasmine said, only semi-joking. ‘What are you going to do instead? Go home and watch TV? That would be a nice change of pace for you.’
‘This might come as a shock to you, Jasmine, but I do have a life of my own!’
Neither Sam nor Jasmine seemed entirely convinced this was true. The sad thing was that Winter wasn’t even sure she convinced herself.
Chapter 30
That evening, Winter found herself sitting on the couch watching TV. As much as she’d pretended to be insulted by Jasmine’s insinuation, the simple truth was she didn’t have much of a life outside of school. Right now, Winter’s social options were limited to sitting here, or going into her room to listen to music and surf the internet. Neither option seemed particularly appealing. Despite feeling tired all day from her previous night’s troubled sleep, Winter was incredibly restless. Her gaze drifted to the clock hanging over their television, mentally calculating whether or not she still had enough time to make it to the concert.
Outside she could hear the hose being turned on as Lucy prepared to spray water on the cats again in her latest attempt to scare them out of the backyard. She’d tried shooing them politely, and when this failed, she banged saucepan lids loudly together, but the cats had barely acknowledged her presence. The hose was mildly more effective.
During the day, Winter had tried several different techniques to keep herself distracted from dwelling on Blake, anything to keep her brain busy. One of the exercises she set for herself was figuring out the collective term for so many cats. When none came to mind – ‘pack’ didn’t seem right, and she was pretty sure ‘pride’ only related to lions – she’d jumped on the internet in her free period to see what she could find. By far the most popular term was ‘clowder’, which sounded like a soup, and seemed far too benign when used in reference to the disturbing group of animals outside. They were plagued by a clowder of cats. It just didn’t seem right.
Winter’s eyes flicked to the clock again. She still had time to make the concert if she left now but she was conflicted. Admitting to herself that Jasmine was right about her looking for an excuse not to go hadn’t helped make the decision any easier. Winter was used to disappointment, felt pretty comfortable with it in fact. Blake not showing up tonight would be painful, but considering the heart-rending loss she’d already faced this year it was pretty small potatoes. However, if Blake came to the concert tonight it would mean this relationship she was constructing in her mind might actually stand a shot at being real. Utterly unprepared for such an eventuality, this prospect thrilled and terrified Winter in equal measure.
It would be much easier to stay right where she was. There was no pain or anxiety to risk sitting here on the couch. The question was – could she live with herself knowing she missed an opportunity to spend the night with the most amazing guy she’d ever met? After another minute’s intense contemplation, Winter hopped off the couch and went to the window.
She could see Lucy below, aiming a jet of water towards one of the denser sections of the clowder. The cats nimbly jumped out of the way of the stream and, instead of running away, merely shifted to another part of the yard.
Winter called down to her, ‘Hey, Luce!’
Lucy glanced up, her face pink with frustration.
‘Do you mind if I duck out for a few hours?’
Lucy frowned at her with suspicion. ‘Why? Who are you going out with?’
Winter felt her back stiffen with irritation at her sister’s prying. Why didn’t Lucy just ask if she was meeting Blake? Since the night of the meal, neither sister had mentioned Blake in conversation. It had become an unspoken source of contention between them.
Winter managed to keep her voice measured. ‘I thought I might go visit Jasmine for a couple of hours.’
Lucy mulled this prospect over for a moment. ‘Okay. But be back by eleven, all right? It’s still a school night.’
‘Will do.’
She left Lucy to her battle with the clowder and went to choose an outfit. Her wardrobe was devoid of anything remotely wearable. All of her clothes seemed drab and unfashionable; certainly nothing befitting what might be her first date (it’s not a date!) with Blake. Worried that she was running out of time, Winter quickly picked out her favourite pair of jeans, and a black top that she was confident made her look thinner than she actually was. As she deliberated whether to go with boots or sneakers, Winter’s nervousness began to give way to a not unpleasant tingling sense of expectation.
Something was going to happen tonight.
Something amazing.
Chapter 31
There was a long line o
f people queuing outside the surf club’s entrance as Winter steered Jessie into the parking lot. Most of them had adopted the typical Goth look: lots of black eyeliner, torn jeans, heavy boots and purple highlights. A few were wearing T-shirts featuring the Urban Ninjas logo – something Winter considered a major faux pas. She’d learned from her mother that you never under any circumstances wore a T-shirt to a gig advertising the band you were about to see. It simply wasn’t done. Unless you were trying to be ironic, of course, and Winter doubted most of these angsty teenagers were capable of such self-awareness. They looked far too grim.
She stepped off the scooter, feeling a little conspicuous in her relatively boring ensemble. She wished she owned some edgier clothes to fit in with the other concertgoers. At least she was wearing black.
Winter scanned the queue for Jasmine and felt a bit better about her fashion choice when she finally located her friend. Jasmine had apparently foregone the idea of dressing like a Goth, and instead decided to go in the opposite direction, choosing a skimpy, glittering crop top and high heels – an outfit Winter suspected might be difficult to mosh in. Sam stood beside Jasmine, looking equally out of place among the grungy long-haired set, with his severe crew-cut and neatly ironed powder-blue shirt. Winter smiled to herself as she crossed the parking lot towards them – trust Jasmine to consciously glam up just to irritate the grunge set.
‘I’m so glad you came!’ Jasmine said, yanking Winter into an exuberant hug as soon as she was within arm’s reach.
Sam grinned at Winter over Jasmine’s shoulder. ‘Hi, Winter.’
‘Sam,’ Winter managed to blurt out in greeting, before Jasmine squeezed the air out of her.
Winter noticed some dirty looks from the other people lined up behind Jasmine and Sam. ‘I’d better get to the back of line. Some of the natives are looking restless.’