Winter Signs (Season Named Series Book 2)

by Sarah Gai

Mrs. Fuller, Connor’s mom, said God missed him so much he called him home to his side. Winter wanted to believe her; she had to hope he was happy and running through fields of grass and rainbows, maybe even riding a unicorn. After all, didn't Heaven hold everything good?

  She felt Connor enter as the breeze from the door gently hit her back. He made his way around her shaking, small frame that lay grieving on the hardwood floor. He crouched down right beside her and then he, too, lay on the floor next to her. His long blond hair fell across his forehead as he brought his face nose-to-nose with hers and gently swung his arm across her frame as sobs wracked her body. Attempting to comfort Winter, his fingers swirled shapes on her back—letters of promise spelling the word, “Forever.”

  Yes, best friends forever.

  Winter

  Autumn, 2007

  Life has a way of hardening you. Winter struggled to stay on top of her grades, finally accepting an aide to interpret many of her classes for her; however, it made her feel weak and forced her to keep her insecurities hidden below the surface.

  She tried to face the world with a certain kind of gusto, showcasing a you-don't-bother-me attitude. She paraded around with a chip on her shoulder to let everyone know she was doing well even with her hearing impairment. She was a master at not showing people her true feelings.

  At sixteen, she had to be strong; life didn't return to normal after her father’s passing. Her mother was never the same. Winter and Charlie may have shared a house with her, but she had not been a mother in years. The once vibrant woman Winter remembered from childhood, the one glowing and full of life with long, chestnut hair that waved and curled at the ends, the woman who would tap your nose and scrunch her face up to make you smile was long gone, buried deep within the walls of misery and mourning. Even the familiar scent of lavender that lingered on her skin was no longer there; instead, the stench of scotch, stale cigarettes, and endless days of not bathing replaced it. Winter wondered if there would ever be a day her mama would dig her way out and resurface, but she doubted it.

  It was really Charlie holding down the fort and caring for her. He acted as her mother and father rolled into one; when he wasn't at school, his every waking moment had been working with Tom from across the street at his construction business. Charlie was Winter’s rock and without him, she did not know how she would trudge on.

  As Winter placed her books in her locker and retrieved her packed lunch, a dull thud on her shoulder knocked her into the open metal door. Looking to her right, she saw none other than Sadie Freeman and her posse of followers. Winter righted herself and bent down to pick up her scattered lunch from the floor and noticed their visible feet were in no hurry to move. No doubt they were standing there saying all sorts of nasty things, putting on a show for any or all to see since they knew full well Winter couldn't hear a damn thing.

  She wanted to escape into her own little world where her room, books, and Connor could make her feel at ease and safe. But these were the days she needed to pull-on her big girl panties and paint on that attitude. Scooping her food up close to her chest, Winter stood up tall, well, as tall as 5'3” allowed, and scowled.

  The stupid cheerleaders all looked down at her smirking and talking amongst themselves. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" she read Sadie's mouth; at least that's what she interpreted.

  Winter rolled her eyes. Yeah, real original line. Winter was about to just drop her lunch back on the floor and pounce when, from behind, strong hands placed themselves comfortingly on her shoulders. She didn't need to turn around to know who was there, as the well-known scent of cardamom, wood, and teenage boy, so distinct and comforting after all these years, infiltrated her senses. His chest was snug against her back and Winter instinctively eased back into it. She didn't know what was being said, but by the look on Sadie's face and the horror shown by her minions, it had to have been good.

  Winter looked to her right as a subtle breeze passed her face revealing her best friend Nicole. At a few inches under six-feet tall, Nicole was not one to mess with; her pink hair and dark-lined eyes made her positively scary. Winter loved every bit of her, especially knowing that underneath the black clothes and heavy make-up was a heart of gold.

  Winter never even dreamed of having another friend she could count on besides Connor until her first day of freshman year when Nicole was assigned to the seat next to her in chemistry. For what felt like an ion, Winter could feel the girl’s eyes burning a hole into her face. Winter tried her best to ignore the rude girl who obviously was staring, but the annoyance got the best of her. She scribbled furiously and turned to look at the girl as she held up the piece of paper that said, "What?"

  "So you're deaf, huh?" the girl asked, pointing at her own ear. She didn't ask rudely; her face showed curiosity and a piqued interest.

  Winter nodded, swallowing the nervous lump in her throat. Her first day of high school and not one single person, besides Connor and Charlie, had tried to communicate with her. This stranger was the first and Winter was freaking out.

  "Well, your deaf and I'm stupid. So I think this is a match made in Heaven," Nicole scribbled back and smiled. "No, seriously I completely suck at school. Doesn't help that I detest it. So...wanna be friends?" she said as she held her hand out towards Winter. It was refreshing for someone to talk to her. Winter shook her hand.

  "I'm Nicole and you’re..." she looked over at the schoolbook on the bench and read the name. "Winter. Well, hello friend," she smiled and waved. Right then, Winter knew she was the real deal.

  Winter came out of her memory to see Sadie and her followers had already walked away and were halfway down the hall. The comforting body behind her stepped back, the momentary warmth lost. Winter spun around and looked up into Connor’s espresso colored eyes. He was getting taller every day; at almost a foot taller than her, Winter feared she would be looking at neck-breaking heights if he didn't stop growing soon. Connor had just turned sixteen and the past summer had changed him in ways Winter wasn't sure she was prepared for. His body filled out and had definition, his face was more chiseled, and with his sandy blond hair messily falling across his brow, Connor had turned into a hunk.

  Connor looked down at her worried after the ordeal. "Win, you okay?" he signed concerned, looking her over as if searching for cuts and bruises.

  Nicole slapped his arm, rolling her eyes. "Connor, cut it out. She's stronger than she looks," Nicole laughed, wrapping Winter in a side hug.

  Although Nicole learned some ASL, she preferred to just to let Winter read her lips and Winter loved her for it. Connor, on the other hand, spoke and signed simultaneously out of habit and, being her soulmate, he knew her in a way no one ever would.

  Connor didn't give up his assessment until Winter reached up, touched his face, and smiled at him; he seemed to be holding his breath with concern. Slowly, he dropped the tension he had been carrying in his shoulders and pushed his face into her palm. His warmth wriggled its way through her body and into the pit of her stomach.

  Nicole reached over and grabbed the food out of Winter’s hand. "Come on, let’s go eat and see that gorgeous brother of yours," she announced, bouncing on her feet. Winter nodded and instinctively reached out for Connor’s hand to drag him along.

  For the first time in awhile, Winter was aware of what she was doing and dropped Connor’s hand, blushing uncontrollably. Connor grabbed her arm and stopped her. Keeping her eyes trained ahead, she watched Nicole knowing nothing would get in the way of her friend spying on Charlie, her crush of two years.

  Connor stood in front of Winter, to block her line of sight, with a look of hurt and confusion marring his beautiful face. "Why did you do that?" he signed.

  "Do what?"

  "Let go of my hand. You have been doing it all week."

  Winter didn’t know how to tell him that the boy she grew up with, her very best friend in the world, had all of a sudden morphed into a very attractive young man. How could she explain to him the things they alwa
ys did and the way they always acted had somehow, along the way, become something more to her? Intimate. Winter looked away. There was no way she was ready to have that conversation knowing it would positively turn their relationship upside down. What if he didn't feel the same? What if this was just hormones and she really didn't see him that way? No, that’s a lie—she did.

  Connor had been crawling in her room and sharing her bed since the night of her father’s funeral. He made her feel safe, feel at home. He was the boy she loved who kept her warm and secure at night. The past month Winter had barely slept; feeling the heat from his body next to her, not to mention certain appendages she would have never noticed a few years back, were more than she could bear. Just thinking about it sent a new shade of red to her face. She couldn't tell him and risk losing him, so, she told a half-truth.

  "I don't want to ruin your chances."

  "At what?"

  "I see girls looking at you and, well, they won't talk to you if you’re with me," Winter lowered her head.

  Connor reached out and tilted her chin up to look at him mouthing the words, "I don't care about other girls." Without so much as another word, he reached down to lace their fingers together and continued to pull her along towards the cafeteria.

  Her heart almost exploded right out of her chest. The only problem was Winter knew this was a one-way affection that went beyond friendship. She knew Connor loved her, but she also knew she needed to get a hold on her emotions quickly if she was ever going to survive this friendship.

  Winter

  Winter, 2008

  Winter just couldn't figure out what was going on with Connor. One minute he could barely leave her side, then the next moment he was halfway across the room as if her mere presence burned him. Connor had always been touchy feely, but lately he had kept his distance. It was as if he was always in a state of indecision.

  It was a Sunday afternoon and Winter had not seen a sight or sign of her best friend all weekend. His moods were so up and down of late, yet he wouldn't tell her what was going on. Was it her? Had she done something wrong? Winter thought as she sat on her bed, gnawing away at her thumbnail.

  She couldn't take one more minute of her mind wandering and mapping out all the possibilities for his sudden change in behavior. No matter what was going on with him, she would always be there. She just hoped he saw her as much of a rock as she saw him in her life. Honestly, she was worried he was trying to pull away the last few months, which scared her to no end. Instead of pacing her room for the twentieth time that day or trying her hardest to concentrate on the novel she wanted to read, she pushed herself up off her bed and made her way towards the front door.

  Once she was outside, she trudged her way through the thick snow, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. The cold air hit her face, reminding her just how icy this winter had been. She stopped just for a moment and turned her face skyward, holding out a hand trying to catch a snowflake. Pulling her hand back towards her she looked quickly; the warmth of her palm melted away the beautiful creations within it. That's what her memories had been like these past few years—slowly fading, the little details no longer existing. If it weren’t for the photos scattered around the house, Winter would struggle to remember what her papa looked like. As she peered at the little snowflakes in her hand, she remembered her family, out in the cold white powder building snowmen or falling to the ground to make fresh snow angels. Charlie would always start the snowball fights, which would turn into an all out war along the street as other families joined in. Even Winter's mama was happy back then. She missed those days full of smiles and laughter. How was it that the memory she held most dear of her father was morphing into a moment she would think about as one of the last times she saw her mama truly look alive? How could a happy thought now seem so sad?

  Winter wiped her hand on her coat and began to trek her way towards Connor’s house again. She climbed the front porch steps, pressed the doorbell, and reached down to take off her wet boots. As she lined them up, as to not be a tripping hazard, she felt the warm air that escaped the house as she stood up straight to be greeted by Mrs. Bartley.

  "Good afternoon darling, you must be freezing. Come on in here," Rosie ushered, stepping back to let Winter enter the house.

  Winter shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the hallway coat stand. She was instantly warm, as she knew Rosie always had the house sweltering and over-heated; sometimes Winter had to open the window in Connor’s room just to breathe.

  Rosie signed to Winter to see if she would like some tea. Winter smiled, yet shook her head no. It was sweet how the people she loved took the time to learn how to communicate properly with her. She never flat-out told people that, as much as she learned the art of lip reading, she really only caught onto about thirty percent of what they said. So adding some ASL to the mix was a heck of a lot easier.

  "Connor’s upstairs darling. Go on up," Rose smiled and Winter turned, rushing up the stairs, desperate to see him.

  She padded her way down the hallway until she reached the last door and paused. What on earth was her problem? They had been friends since childhood; yet standing in front of his door, she was hesitant to enter. She knew the moment her eyes landed on him her breath would catch and her stomach would do all kinds of ridiculous flips. Why had this happened? Could she no longer just look at him as the friend he was? She felt so stupid knowing these feelings were one-sided. Every day she wished she could wake up and look at the boy who was her best friend and feel nothing but a sibling love. Not this nauseating mush that clouded her brain and ignited her body. But she missed him; it was pathetic how even a weekend without him caused her heart so much pain.

  Winter knocked and waited. Nothing. She knocked again and still nothing. Refusing to wait any longer, she turned the doorknob and poked her head inside. There was Connor, seated on the windowsill, his face downcast toward Winter’s curtained room, one hand tapped out a tune on his knee and the other held his elusive black leather journal. She could not count how many times she begged him for a peek inside the book, but he would always just laugh her off, shaking his head.

  She looked at him again and saw the earphones; music was one part of Connor’s life she would never share. Although he told her the artists’ names and what genres he liked, such as Saving Abel and rock music, Winter would never experience that for herself. But everybody had to have something for themselves she supposed, like her love for reading. She could read all day and night, if there was no such thing as sleep.

  Winter didn't want to disturb him while he was in his own little world. She was merely content to just stand there in the doorway and watch him. Her secret infatuation for her best friend was getting the better of her. She watched as his head bopped to a beat, his sandy hair falling across his cheek, the black faded sweatpants and well-worn Metallica t-shirt completed his laid-back look. He was close to perfect; though Winter knew his faults all too well to say he was perfect. But who was? He was picture-perfect for her though. Deep in her soul she knew it would only ever be the boy next door for her, which scared her the most. She dreaded a day would come when he told her he had met someone, another girl who deserved his time and affections.

  Connor turned his head and caught sight of her. For a moment, his eyes grew big and alight at seeing her, but were quickly replaced with a sadness Winter could not understand. He looked toward the floor, a frown marring his beautiful face.

  "What's up Winter?" he signed as his shoulders slouched to rest his elbows on his knees. She waited until he looked up. When he reluctantly did, Winter begged, "Why are you avoiding me? What have I done?" she signed back, before crossing her arms and waiting.

  Connor shook his head in defeat. Running a hand through his hair, he puffed out a long breath. Winter saw the shift the moment it happened; his frown deepened as if he was annoyed. "Nothing okay! You've done nothing. Can’t a guy just have some time alone?" he signed furiously, his brow pulling down to form a crease in the center
of his forehead. "I mean, we’re always together. Aren't we old enough to not need each other so much?" he finished.

  Winter’s heart broke in an instant. She had no idea she had become such a nuisance—an inconvenience, to him. If she didn't leave soon the tears were going to fall and that was the last thing she wanted Connor to see.

  "Fine," she signed, which was all she could give him. There was no point having a silent fight that ripped her to pieces; her soul was already crushed at his anger towards her. She didn't bother looking back at him as she closed his bedroom door and ran down the stairs, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. Trying her best not to alarm Rosie, Winter gently opened the front door, plucked her coat from the stand, and squeezed out. She placed her boots back on as fast as possible and ran, knowing exactly where she was going.

  Connor

  He couldn't bear to look at her, keeping his head down as he heard the bedroom door close. Connor couldn't keep doing this; the emotions he felt when it came to Winter were all over the place. He missed the days, the years, gone by when he and the raven-haired little girl were best friends.

  For years, they would search for tadpoles in the creek out back behind their houses or pretend they were explorers in the over-planted backyard, full of flowers thanks to Winter’s mama. Their favorite pastime was climbing trees and trying their hardest to build a fort with a cardboard box. It wasn't until Winter’s brother Charlie gave them a hand that they finally got a deck constructed in the tree out in Connor’s backyard, the same tree he had jumped from all those years ago and scared the small girl next door, ending in a punch to the face.

  Connor knew the moment Winter knocked him to the ground she would always have a place in his life as he looked up at her small frame from the ground and saw the determination in her eyes. His tiny neighbor, who was ready to fight and stood her ground even in the middle of her fright, made them kindred.