by Ruth Houston
"Shut up," he muttered.
"Hey, maybe you can ask her to Morp," I said, suddenly enlightened by the idea. "She would love that. And then I'd get to see her."
"Morp?! Are you kidding me?"
"No. You should, Martin! She loves Morp."
"Let me see if I can find the courage first. I'll get back to you on that one."
"Ooh, fear of rejection, eh?" I teased him.
"Hey, don't laugh," he said moodily. I could picture him running his hands through his short brown hair agitatedly. "I don't want to screw this up."
"You really like her, don't you?" I said, amazed. "Yeah, you better not screw this up, Rifkin. I will personally see to it that you die a very slow and painful death if you do."
"I honestly don't know why I put up with you," he grumbled. "Thanks though. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"No problem. I figured I owed you two something. See you."
I hung up with Martin and sat down heavily on my couch, leaning back. My mom would kill me if she saw the damp spot I was making on the pillow with my damp hair, but I'd worry about that later. I blew out a breath through my lips, closing my eyes and feeling a smile tug on my lips, my chat with Martin completely flying out the window as I allowed my mind to wander back to the first phone conversation.
It had been good hearing Zack's voice again. It had been a shock, but…it was like nothing had changed at all. He was still calm and collected, still chuckled in that low voice of his when he was amused. So he had gotten my letters after all. I had been pretty close to giving up, but I was glad my efforts and all that paper and ink hadn't been a waste, at any rate. I ran over the conversation we had had just minutes before over and over again in my mind, recalling every time I had made him laugh, and how my heart had been thumping in my chest the whole time. I touched my cheeks, which were still warm.
He didn't remember. I sighed. I didn't know if that was a good thing or not. On one hand, perhaps it was safer that Zack didn't remember what had happened that night, but I couldn't ignore the little prick in my chest that told me my heart wished otherwise. How could he not remember?
Right, the alcohol, I thought grimly.
I rubbed my forehead in that spot above my eyebrow absently, a slow happiness spreading throughout me. Still, it had been so good being able to talk to him again.
For the rest of the day, his voice echoed in my head, and I was unable to keep the smile off my face.
xxxxx
As the days passed, I slowly I got used to not having Eva around all the time, though it sucked a lot. In the beginning I hadn't been sure I even wanted to try and make the effort, but in the end it paid off. My mom stopped asking me why I was moping around the house instead of doing something productive, i.e. the homework that I never seemed to be able to finish, and I found that Rebecca and I started getting closer. Our casual acquaintance turned more into a friendship, though it was pretty much strictly an at-school friendship – I never thought to call her up on the weekend to ask if she wanted to hang out, other than to play tennis. Those were calls I always had, and always would, reserve for Eva.
Ever since that first meeting at Payne's Sports, Martin, it seemed, was quite taken by my pretty, blonde-haired, athletic best friend, and it always brought a mischievous smile to my face when he asked about her, which he was constantly doing. It was almost sickeningly cute, actually, how attached he was to her.
The days continued to roll by, school day after school day, weekends, homework, tennis, weekend afternoons hanging out with Eva and/or Tristan when he had the time and wasn't at work ogling the beautiful Katherine Lin, still stubbornly refusing to admit that he had any sort of feelings for her beyond platonic ones. It was rather frustrating, but Eva and I chose to let him off easy, seeing as it was his senior year. I found myself spending numerous hours at Eva's house in Hampton, which was fairly new but not nearly big enough for six growing kids, three of whom were already in high school.
Life turned more or less routine again, meaning routine the way it had been before those crazy weeks that Zack had entered my life. Thoughts of him refused to leave my head, no matter how hard I tried, and I gave up after a while. We continued to exchange letters, and I had a steadily growing shoebox under my bed of our communications. We didn't get a chance to talk on the phone again because of the time differences and the expenses, but he was always signing off his letters by saying that he wished he could hear my voice again, which I found sweet, though I wasn't quite sure in what way he meant it.
I worked harder at my schoolwork (a new one for me), and classes became even easier and more boring than they had been previously. None of it was hard; most of it was just lots of tedious work, I found, and it held no more interest to me than it ever had. I tried to immerse myself in more activities in a desperate effort to push off the monotony, but none of it seemed to help, not even track, which kept me away from home at least until five in the evening every weekday. I constantly had too much time on my hands, especially on weekday evenings, and I hated it. I either needed something new and completely absorbing to keep me busy, or I needed Eva to come back to Branner so she could keep me in check. Seeing as the second was impossible, I grudgingly accepted my fate: I was doomed for another two years of this crappy high school life. I had no idea how I was going to pull myself through the rest of my remaining time at Branner High.
In March, when all the sophomores had preliminary scheduling for the next year's classes, my counselor asked me what my plan was.
"My plan?" I asked blankly, sitting up straight from my casual slouch when Mr. Bower frowned at my posture.
"Yes, your plan for the next two years," he explained as he peered down at copies of my report cards in my file. "Hmm, I see you have very good grades. They've pulled up quite a bit from the first semester of your freshman year. Excellent grades, in fact. You could do anything you want to do, Miss Bruin, if you keep this up."
I shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me," I muttered.
He looked at me, surprised, and chose to disregard my comment. "Hmm… how about some AP classes for next year? You're doing quite well in chemistry, so how about we schedule you for AP Bio next year?"
"My mom's making me take it over the summer," I said dully, "So maybe AP Chem is better."
"Alright, AP Chem it is. And AP English and History…" He scribbled it all down. "Plus you'll be taking Calculus. Very impressive. You'll be graduating a full two years ahead in math from our regular courses."
"I know," I sighed.
Mr. Bower settled back in his chair, propping his elbows on his arm rests and lacing his fingers together in front of his mouth. "Miss Bruin," he said severely, "You are a very bright young woman. I cannot understand why you don't care about your academics when it's obvious to both of us," he gestured toward my file, "That you are doing exceptionally well. There are people that would give anything to have your GPA."
I shrugged again, noncommittally. "Mr. Bower, with all due respect, school is not my favorite thing in the world. No offense, but it's the most boring thing I've ever had to go through. Personally I think I could be doing better stuff with my time."
"Such as…?" The older man gazed at me curiously over the top of his glasses.
I exhaled. "I don't know," I admitted, "But I think anything's better than having to be sentenced to do school. And I know you and the administration try to make school challenging and…fun…but it's not. For me, anyway," I said honestly.
"It's not fun for a lot of people, I can tell you that. So what is school to you, Miss Bruin?" he asked me, seeming to be genuinely interested.
"It's easy," I dismissed the topic with a casual flick of my wrist as my eyes strayed over to the potted plant next to his desk, wondering why anyone would want to have such a sad example of a botanic species in their office. "That's all it is."
"Hmm," Mr. Bower murmured. "I see. Perhaps you need to find something extra-curricular to keep up your interest in life."
"Tell me somet
hing I don't know," I laughed humorlessly, getting up. "Are we done here?"
"Yes. Let me read off your schedule to you for next year – AP Chem, AP History, AP English, Calculus, AP Spanish 7-8, and Athletics. You should have your work cut out for you with all those courses."
I nodded. "If only," I said under my breath. "Thanks Mr. Bower," I continued on more loudly, without really meaning it. "I'll call in the next person in line for you."
I left his office and rubbed my eyes tiredly – life was so dull for me at the moment. I was already counting down the days until June, which was, quite depressingly, a whole three and a half months away.
I walked to my next class wondering exactly what my plan was anyway. My plan for life… I scratched a spot on my arm absently. My parents would absolutely kill me if I dropped out of high school, and besides, no matter how boring it was for me, school was something I had always planned on finishing. I figured I could at least keep my options open that way. College? Hah. A lot more time to think about that lovely topic.
I sighed softly to myself as I strolled into Ms. Cooper's room for English, sliding out my notebook. Other people had things in life that they were passionate about. I shook my head to myself and got started on the day's work, humming a tuneless song softly until Rebecca poked me in the back to get me to stop.
xxxxx
April 15th
Dear Zack,
Life is still a never-ending stretch of schooldays and work. I'm getting bored – even my teachers have noticed, and I thought teachers weren't supposed to notice that kind of stuff – they've started to offer me extra credit work. Extra credit? Yeah, right. I don't even need it to keep my grade.
You asked for updates on Tristan and Katherine, and since it seemed to amuse you to no end last time, I'll oblige to your request. Morp is coming up – I don't know if you went last year, but it's that spring formal dance we had in the beginning of May; a kind of pre-Prom thing. (Spell Morp backwards, you'll see what I mean – one of those lame leadership class inventions.) Eva and I are trying to come up with a plan to get Tris and Katherine together, but I've re-learned something: Tristan can be quite stubborn when you force him to be. He doesn't want us meddling around in his love life, which, I guess, is sort of understandable if you take into account The Eliza Burns Incident, which he refuses to forgive and forget even though it happened two years ago – more about that later if you want to hear it; it's a long and gruesome story, though Eva and I really put forth so much effort and went through countless pains to ensure our success…but I'm rambling again. Anyway, somehow we will figure out a way to get Tristan and Katherine to go to Morp together. We'll lock them in a closet together or something, if we get desperate.
Have I told you about Eva and Martin? They're officially a couple now. It certainly took them long enough. So much unnecessary beating around the bush. I'm glad they're finally together – he's absolutely crazy about her, and I can tell she feels the same way. I'm always getting calls from Eva that consist mainly of her gushing about his wonderful attributes and how good a kisser he is and how sweet and caring and completely perfect he is…You can probably see me rolling my eyes right now in good nature. It's cute, anyway. I think they're going to Morp together.
As for little old uninteresting me, I guess nothing's changed that much, if you're wondering. I don't think I'm going to Morp; there's really no valid reason for me to go except for some mindless partying. Eva's trying to convince me to let her doll me up and make all the guys see what they've been missing (yeah, right). Hmm…maybe I'll go after all. We'll see. Any thoughts on that? If I go I'll take a picture and send it to you, if you like, so you can see just how much cornier Branner's dances have gotten since you've left.
How's everything with you? Has Leo finally gotten Belinda-Caterina to come 'round and see what a gorgeously handsome and gentlemanly guy he is? That's some hilarious stuff; I loved your stories about how desperate he's getting. Give him some advice from me, will you? Remind him about that old adage, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Maybe if he stops trying so hard, she'll finally see what a great guy he is (I'm really pushing it here, seeing as I've never met Leo, but from what you say he sounds like a decent guy).
Are you still taking daily morning runs with Andy? Now he sounds like a person I'd love to meet. Your descriptions of your school campus sound beautiful, and I almost wish I could be there with you in Italy, if only to get one day to tour your campus…and, I guess, I'd get to see you too, huh? :o)
I forgot to ask last time: how was your spring break? Did you stay at school or did you go somewhere? I might have already mentioned it, but my dad finally decided to dish out the money to let us go to Hawaii. It was awesome. We stayed on the island of Oahu, and I swear to you, I am not lying, but there is an ABC store on every single block. They're convenience stores. The weather was beautiful, and my mom, our resident amateur photographer, went crazy with the camera. She went through a roll a day, and we were there for seven days – count it up. It's about one hundred eighty something pictures, half of which are landscapes, and the other half are of me, much to my chagrin. She got them developed last week, and even I have to admit that all of them are really great.
Other than all that, nothing new has happened here in Branner City. I guess I could always write more about something else…it will sound completely random, but you've told me you like reading about random little snippets of my life. Unfortunately I don't feel like doing it right now (sorry), but I promise next time I'll tell you some random thing about me or some incident that occurred a while ago.
You always write such long letters, I always feel bad when I send you back a letter that's only a fifth of what you've written to me. Expect a longer one from me next time, for sure. How do you find the time to do all that writing anyway? Your teachers must not be working you hard enough…or you don't like doing the work. Get to it! Eva always says, "Motivation is the key," but she is the most motivated person I have ever met in my whole life, so you might want to reconsider before taking some of her advice – don't turn into a psycho-over-achiever on me, please, I don't think I could stand to have more than one in my life right now. Don't tell her I said that.
Write soon, yeah? Until next time –
--Winter
-Zack-
I smiled a little, folding the letter back up and glancing down at the paper.
"Not another effing letter?"
I turned to face my friend, grinning a little. "But of course."
Leo shook his head, smirking. "Man, that girl must really be something. She's got you wrapped around her little finger like you wouldn't believe." He was lounging on his bed, flipping through some random magazine.
I shrugged, carefully putting the pieces of paper back in their envelope and slipping it into the back of my binder. I would put it away later, away from Leo's prying eyes. I always hid them at the bottom of my suitcase, underneath all the clothes I had packed that I would never wear.
"You like it that way, don't you?" Leo asked absently.
"Huh?" I hadn't been paying attention.
He raised his eyebrows, dark blue eyes gazing at me thoughtfully, and muttered something under his breath that I couldn't make out.
"What was that?" I asked, yawning a little and getting up from my chair to stretch.
"Nothing," Leo murmured quickly, immersed in his magazine.
"No, what'd you say?" I insisted.
"Nothing," he said again.
"Leo."
No response.
"Leo."
Silence.
"Come on Leo. Please?"
He sighed and glanced at me again. "It was nothing," he said emphatically. "Be a nice person and let me finish my mag."
"Whatever you want," I said casually, sitting back down and resting my head in my arms on my desk. "Man I'm tired."
"I'm sure it doesn't help that you get two fucking hours of sleep a night." He scowled at me disapprovingly. This was a topic he liked nagging
me about – he was always concerned with my health.
I groaned. "Shut up, Leo."
"You should go see a doctor. I'm not joking. Insomnia's pretty damn serious. I don't want to be taking a jog with you and Andy one day and have you collapse on us and get sent to the hospital."
"I'll be fine," I said, closing my eyes and wondering if he was right. "God I hate this."
"I would too, if I were you. Try the melatonin pills again."
"I already did," I muttered. "Remember? I tried it for a week. It didn't work."
"Go see the resident nurse, at least."
"No," I said firmly, resting my tired eyes. "Put on some music, will you?"
"Sure."
"Thanks."
I heard Leo crossing the room to his computer, where a series of clicking followed, then some of his music filled the room.
"What is this anyway?" I said, burying my head deeper into my arms.
"Yellowcard. 'Rough Draft.'"
"This is Yellowcard? This is acoustic stuff, Leo."
"I know. It's their acoustic version of the song."
"You are so random," I mumbled.
"Leo?"
"Ciò che?"
I winced at his accent. "Ciò che," I repeated for him in the correct pronunciation.
"Shut up, you stupid Italian."
I grinned to myself. I couldn't deny that life was certainly filled with more casual insults than it ever had been. And it was always worth a good laugh to hear Leo butcher the romantic language in his Southern drawl. "Leo?"
"I'll stick with English…What?"
"You never told me where you were from."
"I didn't?"
"No. You've been avoiding the subject ever since I met you."
I could hear him toss his magazine aside. "I'm from Louisiana," he said quietly.
"Where in Louisiana?"
"New Orleans area."
"Go figure."
"My mom," he said (I could hear him turning over onto his stomach), "Comes from a line of rich former-plantation owners. She grew up on a plantation, actually – obviously there are no more slaves, but they still grow sugar cane. It's pretty modernized now, and the old house has been rebuilt to fit our modern needs. I grew up there."