Love Storm

by Ruth Houston

  "Okay," I said softly. "Why didn't you tell me this before? I was only curious."

  "Everyone likes their privacy now and then, especially when it comes to their past," Leo exhaled. "You, of all people, should know."

  I chuckled. He liked teasing me about what a secretive person I was.

  "Did you finish your homework for Felisatti? The one where we had to translate the lyrics to that opera song she played for us?"

  "Yeah," I replied. "That was a really stupid assignment."

  There was a pause. "Can I please –"

  "It's in the binder on my bed."

  "Thanks."

  "You really should try harder, you know. Italian's really not all that hard."

  "I'll try harder…starting tomorrow."

  I laughed. "It's always tomorrow with you."

  We were quiet after that, listening to Leo's mix of music coming from his computer speakers. My mind wandered back to the letter from Winter. I imagined the pictures of her in Hawaii, and smiled to myself. I had to remember to ask her to send over one of those.

  Hmm, and she had written about Morp. Selfish as it was, I wished she wouldn't go. I didn't want anyone to ask her to the dance. In fact, I hoped no one would ask her to dance, period, because she was bound to look gorgeous, as always. And I didn't want anyone else seeing her like that. Oh, man. What the hell was I going to do? Could I convince her to not go to the dance just through a letter? Hmm…

  "What dance?"

  "Huh?" I said, picking up my head and glancing at Leo, who was copying my homework while sitting on his bed.

  "What dance? You said something about a dance."

  I paused. I hadn't realized I had been talking aloud to myself. Hmm. Bad habit that I needed to learn to kill. It happened usually when I was tired. I took a quick peek at the clock. 11:28pm. "It was nothing," I said, getting up and stripping off my shirt. "I was just thinking about a dance that Winter was writing to me about." I pulled off my belt, letting my jeans slide to my ankles, then kicked them aside and pulled off my socks.

  "Is she going?" Leo asked curiously as I headed into the bathroom. "What the hell is this? 'Non c'è più tempo per guardare una stella sopra noi'?" He had to speak louder to get me to hear over the music.

  I turned on the faucet and started to brush my teeth. "I don't know," I called back to him through a mouthful of toothpaste bubbles. "I hope not. Leo, it's a song. It's supposed to be poetical. Just try it, for once. What's 'Non c'è più tempo'?"

  "Why don't you want her to go? It means…something like…there isn't any more time. Hey, didn't you already brush your teeth tonight?"

  "Oh, crap, you're right, what am I doing?" I realized, spitting out my mouthful. "Yeah, your translation's right. And then what comes next?" I rinsed out my mouth and toothbrush, shook it out, and put it back in the cup on our sink.

  "And then…to look at a star above us? That doesn't make sense."

  I re-entered our bedroom/living-area space and flopped onto my bed. "They're just lyrics. 'There is no time left to look at a star above us.' Look through the rest of the lyrics, then it'll make sense."

  There was silence for a while as Leo jotted down the line. He asked, not looking up from his work, "Why don't you want her to go? You never answered me."

  I sighed and turned my head into my pillow, preparing for another restless, sleepless night. "Everyone likes their privacy once in a while."

  Chapter 28: Start of the Summer

  -Winter-

  April melted into May, and in the four days leading up to the dance, people started becoming overly excited about that one little social event. It was always Morp-this, Morp-that, Morp was all I ever heard.

  The sharp cold of the winter season was slowly but surely leaving the air, and maybe there was something in the fresh spring breeze, because it seemed that everyone had found a significant other. Rebecca was going to the spring formal with Nathan – they were still a couple and it was always sweet to see them walking somewhere together, swinging their joined hands between them. And of course Martin and Eva were a given. They were the second couple that was quickly becoming a new constant in life. I had never seen Eva so happy before.

  Tristan. Tristan, Tristan, Tristan. It brought a huge smile to my face every time I saw him or Katherine Lin at school. For all the years I had been friends with him, I had never known Tristan to be shy, but it seemed that when it came to the beautiful Katherine, things weren't as easy as they had been in the past with other girls. He finally admitted to having feelings for her, and was always complaining to me that he had said something to her that must have sounded stupid. He made me laugh because apparently he lost all sense of grace in her presence – suddenly he was clumsy and all thumbs around her. Much to Eva's disappointment, he wasn't going to Morp, but that was okay, because neither was Katherine. Tristan told us that it felt kind of stupid to bring her to something as cheesy as a school dance, but Eva had made the point that it was fun because it was so tacky, and plus, wasn't it part of the "high school experience"? But Tristan had countless objections, and so in the end he was going to ask Katherine out on a date instead. Privately I knew all along that he never would have asked her to Morp; it wasn't exactly his kind of scene. It took Tristan a week to muster up the courage, and he was a nervous wreck by the time the big day rolled around – Eva and I had told him that if he didn't ask her out by then, we would take matters into our own hands, and he seemed extremely terrified of that option. Wouldn't you know it, Katherine Lin said yes to him (not that we had been expecting her to give him any other answer), and they were happy too.

  With all these couples surrounding me, it was hard not to think about myself and my nonexistent love-life. Eva was constantly asking me about Zack and how he was, and I think she rather liked it when she got me to talk about him. She pestered me to show her one of his letters, but on that subject I stood firm, refusing her every time. They were too private to share. She kept telling me that from the sound of things, he was still very much interested in me, but I scoffed at that. Had he ever been interested in me, romantically?

  Okay, bad question. I knew that that wasn't a completely sensible one because would a guy who wasn't even considering me as more than a friend kiss me – twice, though one of them didn't really count seeing as he was probably more than legally intoxicated? I still had mixed feelings about that.

  At any rate, I got a letter from said person two days before Morp. Up until that point I was still undecided and was probably going to buy my ticket (if I was going at all) on Thursday at lunch time – the last day they were selling them. Basically Zack told me that I should do what I wanted, and perhaps just go to have a good time – but seeing as it was a formal dance, he teased me lightly, saying that wearing a dress might be more trouble than it was worth. I laughed when I read that, and decided for sure that I might as well go and party with Eva.

  In all honesty, our letters meant slightly less (only slightly) to me now than they had in the beginning, perhaps because I had finally accepted the fact that he would never be coming back, and perhaps for other reasons. He continued to avoid answering my question of how he had been forced/blackmailed into going to Italy, and our communications were more letters between friends than anything else. I found that more and more, I was having trouble remembering the details of our interactions of when he had still been here. My only two consolations were that, one, there was an ever present twinge of guilt because of this, no matter how small it was, and two, that it was impossible to forget what he looked like, especially his eyes. His eyes were burned so deeply into my memory that I doubted they would ever leave. Once in a long while they haunted me in my dreams too, particularly when I had received a letter from him but had taken too long to respond because of either laziness or lack of time.

  As a result of our conversation, Mr. Bower, my counselor, had called me into his office a few days later and asked me to get involved in more activities, such as being the manager for the track and fie
ld team in addition to being an athlete on it, leaving me less free time. Somehow my mom had also heard about this and was, much to my annoyance, very enthusiastic about the idea. She signed me up for some random extra-curricular classes. Her personal favorite was the photography class she was making me take at the local community college, but I think that was just because she herself adored the subject. Aside from photography, I was taking a writing class (a writing class, of all things!) and Latin. I had argued about this with her over and over again, seeing as I was already taking Spanish at school, but she insisted. Luckily for me, after taking Spanish for three years and having a natural knack for languages, the class wasn't too hard.

  xxxxx

  I sighed and glanced at my reflection again half-heartedly.

  "You look gorgeous."

  Through Eva's floor-length mirror which I had always been envious of, my eyes connected with her shining cerulean orbs. I shook my head.

  "I don't think I want to go. Honestly, Eva. You know I don't dance anyway."

  My best friend moved closer and said, "Turn." I obliged and she double-checked my minimal makeup. "You are going to do this," she said firmly, smoothing back a stray strand of hair. "You look gorgeous, we spent all of Thursday night on an emergency shopping excursion for our dresses, I just spent an hour and a half making your hair and makeup perfect, and we're going to go to Morp to have a great time and you will make all the rest of the girls jealous."

  I laughed. "Jealous of what?" I scoffed. "This?" I gestured down at my dress violently.

  "Just look at yourself again in the mirror," Eva said encouragingly, smiling.

  I turned around again and did as she commanded. My dress was wonderfully simple; an elegant strapless that quite flattered my figure, it was made of dark forest green silk satin that reached the floor. Eva and I had instantly liked it as soon as we had seen it in the store. Since the dress was simple she had done my hair quite elaborately. Among other odd talents, Eva had a way with doing hair. Even I had to admit that she had made my hair look great – small sections were twisted back and met in a fancy bun that I couldn't pretend to know how to describe. Eva was better than any professional hairdresser, and she had some mysterious trick of using a minimal number of bobby pins and amounts of hairspray, for which I was very grateful.

  As before mentioned, my makeup was minimal – just some light foundation, a hint of eyeliner, one coat of mascara, and a little bit of some shimmering, sheer dark green eye shadow that Eva had dug up from somewhere. She tried to get me to put on some lip gloss, but to that I had adamantly refused – though on Eva it looked good, I hated wearing the stuff. I was wearing a pair of miniscule, real diamond stud earrings that my grandma had given me for my fifteenth birthday, but my neck was bare because we hadn't been able to find a matching necklace.

  "Like I said, you look gorgeous," Eva said as I turned back around.

  "Can we cut out the eye shadow?" I frowned.

  "I know you don't usually wear it, especially in colors like green, but right now it looks really good," she replied, ruffling her own skirt.

  I glanced at her and she posed for me, giggling a little when I pretended to take a camera shot for her. "You look pretty good too," I grinned. "Martin won't know what hit him, poor guy."

  Eva's dress was floor length as well because we had decided to match a little, and it was the lightest pink color I had ever seen. The material was a delicate silk that hugged her body – it had cost quite a bit, but she had decided to splurge. It had thin straps and the dress made her look even more slim and athletic than ever. Her dark blonde hair was in loose curls, pinned up in a twist. I had done her makeup, and it was a little bolder than mine.

  "Oh my god, Martin," Eva swooned, closing her eyes. "How hot is he? Seriously now."

  I laughed. "Very, according to you."

  "And to every other girl at Branner," she replied, plopping down on her bed. "How many times did he get asked, again?"

  I made a face. "Seventeen. Can you imagine being asked to a dance seventeen times? That's crazy. Just goes to show how popular your boyfriend is. Don't worry," I said, seeing the look on Eva's face, "Of course he told all of them that he already had a date."

  "Good," she smirked, satisfied. "And you, Winter? I know you got asked a couple times, don't lie to me."

  I shook my head. "We are not talking about this again."

  "Let's see," Eva said thoughtfully, ticking them off on her fingers. "You got asked by Mitch Thomas –"

  "Ugh, don't remind me," I said, sitting down on her comforter next to her. "Why would someone like Mitch Thomas even consider going with me? Next topic please."

  "We're not done," Eva said, grinning devilishly. "Mitch Thomas, by the way, is hot stuff. Of course I used to think he was hotter –"

  "When you were going out with him last year," I pointed out.

  "Then there was Raul," Eva plowed on, undeterred. "Oh man, he is fine too. Talk about a bod. All toned from soccer, you know."

  "I don't think Martin would be very happy if he could hear you right now," I said, in an effort to get her off this unpleasant subject. "Every guy you're naming you're calling hot."

  "Doesn't matter, none of them are as handsome as Martin," my best friend said dismissively with a wave of her hand. "After Raul…there was Scott, right?"

  "How do you know all this?" I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "You don't even go to Branner anymore!"

  "Martin, of course," she replied matter-of-factly. "Don't touch your face hun, you'll ruin your makeup. And after Scott –"

  "There was no one after Scott!"

  "What about Ian Farrington? He doesn't count?"

  "Okay, Ian Farrington was after Scott! But Ian was the last one."

  "Uh huh, right. And what about Kendall? And Logan? And Nick Cotter?"

  I scowled. "I swear, sometimes I really hate you."

  Eva smiled smugly. "See? I told you, you got asked a couple times."

  I shrugged helplessly. "It's beyond me why all of a sudden, after so many years of no one having interest in me, that I'm getting asked out."

  My best friend cocked her head slightly, saying, "It's not you, it's them. They're finally realizing how pretty you've been all along."

  "Right," I said sarcastically. "Because I'm just completely America's Next Top Model material. I think that's a more accurate description of you."

  Eva smiled a little. "You really don't know, do you? Just how beautiful you are."

  I stared at her, vexed.

  She laughed. "You really don't know."

  I shrugged again, still baffled. "Uh, I guess not."

  "This is why you're my best friend," Eva grinned, leaning over and hugging me quickly. "You rock."

  I chuckled. "Thanks. You're pretty cool yourself."

  "Come on," she said, jumping up and offering me a hand, "Let's go downstairs and wait for Martin to pick us up. I don't want to be in one of those cheesy scenes where the guy is waiting downstairs with his back turned and all of sudden he hears the girl's footsteps and turns around, only to get blown away by her beauty."

  I laughed. "Alright, Your Royal Beauty. Let's go."

  We raced downstairs, got our jackets (Eva got her purse, too), each got a drink of water, and by then Martin had honked his horn from outside.

  "Have fun!" Tristan yelled from the living room as we exited the new Westley house.

  "Good luck," I called back, and Eva winked at him.

  "Sweep Katherine off her feet! You're the most eligible senior bachelor at Branner – you can do it!" She offered this last bit of ego-primping, and we were off.

  Martin wolf whistled when we got into the car. "Wow, I think I have the most beautiful date of the whole school," he grinned at Eva as she slid into the passenger seat next to him. I was stuck in the back by myself.

  "I'll take that as a compliment," Eva laughed, kissing him on his cheek. "Ready?"

  "Oy, what about me?" I complained good-naturedly from the bac
k seat.

  "Hmm," Martin said, glancing at me thoughtfully from his rearview mirror. "I take it back. Eva, I'm dumping you for Winter, just look at her, she's absolutely gorgeous –"

  "Hey!" Eva said, pretending to be offended, slapping him on the arm. "What kind of a boyfriend are you?" I could tell she was hard-pressed to keep her smile in check.

  Martin chuckled and brushed a kiss on her cheek and whispered something in her ear while I looked out the window, slightly uncomfortable to be in their presence when they were so girlfriend-boyfriend-ish, humming a nameless tune under my breath. When it took more than sixteen measures of my new musical composition to be hummed out before we took off, I risked another glance at them, only to find they were in the middle of quite a long lip-lock. And let me tell you, if you've never experienced it before, it gives you the weirdest heebie-jeebies to see your best friend making out with her boyfriend.

  "I think we're going to be late," I said loudly, emphasizing the last word.

  They both visibly jumped, and Martin's hand flew to the ignition, already inserting his keys. Eva cleared her throat gently, glancing out the window, apparently embarrassed, if her flaming blush was any sort of indication.

  It turned out that the dance was not as cheesy as I had originally thought it would be – the leadership class had actually quite outdone itself this time around. They had utilized the whole Hampton recreation center; there was something in every room. For those people who liked going to dances to hang out with friends but easily got bored from the one-genre music (cough – me), they had set up a casino room and pool tables, both of which I was eager to try out. When we first stepped in, Martin's eyes immediately became trained on the refreshment area, and Eva wanted to take pictures before she got mussed up from dancing and partying. With the three of us torn in different directions, we chose the most sensible to do first, which was, not surprisingly, Eva's idea.