by Ruth Houston
"I'm sorry," I said pityingly. "But you must."
"I shan't," he said.
"You shall," I said cuttingly, then thought for a moment. "Let's not go on another Shakespeare reel, please?"
~Zack~
"That wasn't bad," I said thoughtfully as we walked out of Caroline's Pies. Winter was holding a plastic bag with the apple pie in it. I had finally given in to her. We got our free, bottomless cups of coffee and juice.
"Of course it wasn't bad," she said. "There's something to be said when you ate all your breakfast and half of my omelet. What now?"
"I don't know," I said. "What do you want to do?"
She was quiet for a moment, and I looked at her sideways. Today was a peculiar day. She was very happy for some reason or other, and was being much nicer to me than she usually was, which seemed to be reason enough for me to return the gesture of friendliness. Her auburn hair was down on her shoulders today, and as she swept it off to one side, I couldn't help but reach out and touch her bare shoulder, just to feel her skin. I wondered where that reflex had come from.
She looked at me, startled, but gave me a small smile. Something thumped in my chest, but I put it off as the after effects of eating one and a half breakfasts. We had reached my car by now, and I unlocked it. She slid into the passenger's seat, setting the bagged and boxed pie at her feet.
"Let's go to Bircher Park," she said suddenly as I backed out of the small parking lot.
"Sure," I agreed.
"We can eat lunch there too," she said. "We can get sandwiches from Mr. Pickle's. And eat this pie." She nudged it with a black flip-flop. Later, that plan was dumped down the drain and saved for dinner instead.
Bircher Park was the largest recreational site in Branner City. Twelve tennis courts, a full-sized baseball diamond, six basketball courts, large expanses of green grass for soccer and Frisbee and touch football and sun-tanning, large leafy trees to sit under, a Japanese garden within the boundaries, a good-sized duck pond, and a humongous playground that was any kid's dream – it all took up a good sized block in itself.
We spent a good hour in the Japanese garden, walking off our breakfasts.
"It's 11:15," she answered my question as we walked by the last temple. She pushed her cell phone into her back pocket, where it belonged. "I'm not hungry yet."
"Me neither," I said. "Where else can we go?"
We both thought for a moment.
"I need to go shopping," Winter said thoughtfully.
"For what?" I asked.
"Clothes."
We were quiet for a moment, then looked at each other. I shrugged. "Why not? We don't have anything else to do."
An hour later, I was waiting for her to come out of the changing rooms at GAP and thinking to myself that perhaps this wasn't the best idea we'd had all day. "Are you almost done?" I asked in a bored voice. "This isn't fun for me." I was sitting with my back to a full-length mirror.
"I know, I know," Winter's voice drifted through the thin door, apologetic. "Sorry. You agreed to come. Just a second. Take a look at something for me, will you?" The door opened, and she stepped out.
My eyes widened as she spun around. She was wearing the least conventional clothes she had ever worn before in my memory. She had changed into a short mini-skirt, she was barefoot, and she was still wearing that black spaghetti strap top.
"Good? Bad? Should I get it?" she gestured toward the mini-skirt as she ended up facing me again.
"Um," I swallowed. That was the shortest skirt I had ever seen her wear before, and I was able to see just how long her legs were. "I-I think – I mean, I guess – I think you should get it," I managed to stutter out, cursing myself for sounding like an idiot and cross at the ridiculous effect she had just had on me. Think Eva – an image of Winter's gorgeous best friend came to mind and I relaxed. Okay, we're back in safe waters.
"Great," Winter said happily. "Thanks. Give me a second, I'll be right out."
When we were waiting in the long line to pay, she left me holding her skirt and wandered off toward the men's section. I inched forward in line as she flipped through some racks of clothes.
"Zack!"
I turned around at the sound of Winter's voice.
"You should get this!" She was holding up a black blazer.
I shook my head. "We came here for you to go shopping, not me. Besides, I don't have much money on me right now."
"But it's nice," she said, making her way over and holding it up to my back. "Put it on."
I grudgingly shrugged into it. She admired the effect for a moment, then said in a firm voice, "You look good in it and you're getting it."
Okay, so maybe it did look good on me. "Told you already," I said, "I probably don't have enough money for it. I like it though," I admitted as I tugged my arms out of it. It was a nice jacket.
"I'll buy it for you," Winter said.
"What? No!" I exclaimed. "I can't let you do that."
"Why not?" she frowned. "It's on sale. And I took your other jacket, so here's one to replace it. I'm buying it for you," she said in a voice that didn't leave any room for argument. "Consider it an early Christmas present."
I sighed. Why did I always end up giving in to this girl, anyway?
We ate lunch at the food court in the mall, and wandered around for a while. It was actually pretty fun, walking around aimlessly around in the company of Winter; we went window shopping, tried on all the hats and annoyed the manager at Caps Crazy (Winter decided I looked good in black cowboy hats, for some reason), stole the 'cool' blue straws from Hot Dog On a Stick, posed with all the sunglasses at The Sunglass Hut but bought nothing, and generally just goofed off enough to irritate all the shop keepers but did nothing to merit us a kicking out of the mall by security.
Winter was so crazy, she really was – but that day, it was what I was living off of, the wave I was cruising on. I was finally able to understand how people who really looked deep enough were pulled into her fun, delightful personality. She loved life, that was all there was to it. She laughed when she was happy, cried when she was sad, cursed like a sailor when she was angry. I had never in my life met anyone so filled with soul before. She lived like there was no tomorrow – she was absolutely, positively inebriated from life, and it was a wonder to behold.
"How many people do you think we riled up today?" she asked me as we tried to re-locate my car in the parking lot.
"Uh –" I swiveled my head around and checked the other aisle for my navy blue Nissan sedan, "Lots," I said, finally spotting the familiar license plate and gesturing toward it as best I could with a GAP bag in my hand. "The cashier I flirted with at The Sunglass Hut will be so put out."
Winter laughed, and looking over at her, I suddenly felt this crazy happiness, like everything in the world was alright, and the universe was in balance. I couldn't even begin to explain the feeling, and wasn't sure I wanted to. Wasn't that a feeling you were supposed to get when you were with your girlfriend, not her best friend?
"She's going to be so surprised when she dials your number and finds out she reached Madame Esperanza's Tarot Card Hotline," Winter snickered. "How did you remember that number anyway?"
"Easy – 1-800-TAROT4U," I grinned as I slid into the driver's seat. "1-800-827-6848. I saw the commercial last winter when I was stuck at home with the flu."
She shook her head, grinning. "I'm going to pull that one someday… maybe I'll make 1-800-MATTRES though, so the guy can save an 'S' on his new Sealy Posturepedic."
I chuckled. "So where should we go now, Princess Winter? Your wish is my command," I said in a deep voice, grinning at her smile.
"Let's go back to the park," she said dreamily. "The sunset by the duck pond is beautiful." She checked the clock on my dashboard as I pulled out. "It's 4:30 already?" she said, shocked. "Okay then, well, we can hang out at the park for a while, walk around or whatever, then when we get hungry we can go to Mr. Pickles and get those sandwiches. And we'll cure you of your apple
-pie-phobia," she added on.
I groaned. "I was rather hoping you would have forgotten that by now."
"No such luck," she said sweetly.
We did exactly as she had said – we had gotten extra plastic forks and knives from Mr. Pickles and Winter had cut up the pie after we finished eating our casual dinner. I watched from six feet away and was prepared to make a run for it when she tried to get me to eat it. Notice that the adverb was not 'if', but 'when' – I knew Winter would do it, not matter how much I pleaded with her.
"Zack, come here," she called. She had already taken a bite of the pie. "It's really good!"
I shook my head frantically. "No!"
"Just come here, I won't try to force-feed you yet," she said, patting a patch of grass next to her. "Come on, just come sit with me. I'm lonely." She looked up as a stray willow leaf floated down on her lap. She was sitting almost at the banks of the duck pond.
I made my way toward her cautiously. "I'm not eating it," I said firmly when I was four feet away.
She looked at me crossly. "Just come sit down already," she said. "You can watch me eat this pie all by myself."
I hesitated for a moment, then crossed the remaining distance swiftly and sat down next to her. I made a face as she took a bite.
"It's good," she insisted.
"Okay," I said, unconvinced.
"Come on, just try it," she said. "If you don't like it or throw up or something, you can yell at me or whatever," she coaxed.
"I'm not touching it," I said.
"You don't have to," she said patiently. "Here." She held out a forkful of the revolting dessert.
I drew away. "Nuh-uh," I shook my head again. "No way."
"Please?"
"No."
"Come on."
"Don't 'come on' me."
She laughed. "I think that sentence could have been interpreted in more than one way. Please?"
I gave her a pointed look.
"Just do it!" she said, frustrated now. "It won't kill you, I promise! I'll keep bothering you."
Nope. I gave in to her all those other times, but this was one thing I'd stand strong on. "No, Winter."
She sighed. "You just had to make it hard on yourself."
Before I knew what had happened, I found myself flat on my back and staring up into her dark chocolate eyes in a daze. Behind her head I saw a light-blue sky with wispy clouds.
"Did you just tackle me?" I said, straining gently against her hold. For a rather vertically challenged girl, she could be quite strong. I wanted to get free, but didn't want to hurt her in the process.
She shrugged. "I don't think it's considered a tackle. You were sitting," she pointed out. "But back to business," she cracked a wicked grin.
I gave her a horrified look. Winter had me pinned on the grass, she was half sitting on me, and she was still talking about me, eating apple pie?!
She advanced the fork on me, and I squirmed even more. "Let me go, Winter! This isn't funny!" I shouted when she started laughing. Okay, so maybe it was a little amusing. Just a little. Less than one percent.
I was anticipating that she was going to shove the vile stuff into my mouth, so I was surprised when she gently slid the fork into my mouth. Somehow my lips had betrayed me and opened of their own accord. When she pulled the plastic utensil back out, my eyes locked on hers, and neither of us looked away as I chewed as slowly as I could and swallowed (as best as I could, considering I was lying down).
"Good?" she asked softly, her warm breath dancing across my neck.
I suppressed the odd impulse to shiver just in time and nodded. It actually wasn't as bad I remembered. Cinnamon-y. I was stunned that I actually… liked it?
"I… like it," I said, trying out the words.
"Good," she said again, this time smiling. She got off me and I sat up, rubbing the back of my head.
"You're pretty strong," I commented.
"Thanks," she said, scooting closer to me. "No plates, so we have to share."
It was oddly comforting, sitting there by the duck pond and stabbing my fork into the pie box with Winter. When we had eaten as much as we could, there was still about a third of it left, and we tossed bits of the flaky crusts into the mini-lake for the mallards to eat.
We ended up sitting close next to each other beneath that willow tree, watching the sunset over that little piece of water. We were both quiet well until after the last colors had disappeared, and the sky had turned a water-washed, translucent dark blue.
"Ready to go?" I whispered in Winter's ear. She was still looking dreamily out over the horizon.
"Mm? Yeah," she said blinking and turning her pretty eyes on me. "You know, Eva should be back by now. Do you want to go say hi to her?"
Eva. The thought of her weighed down my heart. Would she have a verdict for me? Had the weekend away from Branner City given her the insight she needed to decide if she wanted to stay with me… or leave?
Today had been the most fun I'd had in a while, I could admit to myself. I pushed any thoughts of Eva out of my head for now. Suddenly, something occurred to me, and I just had to ask.
"Winter?"
"Hmm?"
"Are we… friends?"
She looked at me. "Of course we are," she whispered. Then she paused. "Unless you don't want to be." She bit her lip and looked away.
"No," I said. "I want to be." It was a peculiar feeling, sitting there next to her and realizing she was actually my friend. I was finally able to grasp something that had been gnawing away at the back corners of my mind for a while – I trusted her. No matter how much I sometimes went out of my way to annoy her, just for fun, or anything else, here I was, sharing my whole Sunday with her, right?
I guess there's something to be said when I actually found it in my heart to be friends with Winter Bruin. I suppose she had earned my trust.
Chapter Twelve: Phone Calls
Zack
"Take this?" Winter requested.
"Wha – ?" She handed me a brown rubber band. The rubber band that had held together the little pack of plastic utensils from Mr. Pickles.
"Put it on," she said.
I complied without asking – she would explain when she felt like it. The rubber band hung perfectly from my left wrist, just loose enough to be comfortable. I tilted my head a little, silently asking for her to give an explanation.
"Just wear it, okay?" she said.
I understood it to mean it was a token showing that she had found me equally as acceptable. I snapped it gently on the inside of my wrist; it stung just a little, but in an oddly pleasant and satisfying way. "Alright," I agreed. "It'll never come off."
She smiled, and seemed about to say something when my cell phone rang. I gave her an apologetic grin. I seldom used my cell phone, but always kept it on, so it surprised me that someone would be calling me now. I had caller ID, but the number was not a familiar one.
"Hello?" My eyes traveled around the park; the sky was gradually darkening. The sunset had been over for a long time already.
"Zackary?"
I froze. My mind was immobilized too, ridiculously stuck in place and unable to move either forward or back. My mouth gaped open, and I'm pretty sure my eyes widened before I managed to choke out, "Dad?" My brain whirred back to life with that word.
Winter looked at me curiously, her head cocked to one side.
I cursed silently, a hundred questions, angry words, and demands all struggling to escape my lips. I couldn't think of what to say first. Finally I managed to contain my silent anger and held back the words, re-constructing that carefully built dam that had been perfected over the years. "I'm kind of busy right now, Dad," I said before he could say whatever it was that happened to be on his mind. "Can you call me back some other time?"
"No, Zackary," he said in that clipped voice of his that I despised so much. So much. "If I do, I know you won't answer my calls. This will only take a second."
"Fine," I bit out. "Say it, then."
"Your mother and I are coming back," my father said, that stranger that I never really knew. "There's been a lull in business here, and –" He paused, evidently listening to someone else talk over there, then yelled something in perfect Italian. "Sorry," he said, back on the line and not sounding apologetic in the least. "Anyway, there's been a quiet period in business, and I think we've milked the industry here quite a bit, so we're taking a vacation and coming home. How's Victoria?"
"She's fine," I said through clenched teeth.
"Still making good food?"
"I'm still alive, aren't I," I said angrily. It wasn't a question.
"Good," my father said, either oblivious to my tone of voice or ignoring it. Probably the latter, I thought bitterly, and he probably wasn't glad at all that I was still alive – disappointed would be a more accurate adjective, I think.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why have you suddenly decided to come back?" I shouted, hating him and reveling in the fury that the sound of his voice had brought on. "We don't need you here! Victoria and I are fine, just dandy without you and mother! Don't come back, I don't care!"
"We're coming back to see you," my father said evenly. "Please make this easier for all of us and take it calmly, Zackary."
"It's Zack," I spat. "And I am taking it calmly. You don't need to come back to see me. I'm more grown up than you think, and I've been grown up for a long time, Father, much longer than I've wanted to be." I felt someone's hand on the crook of my arm, and looked down to see Winter watching me with worried eyes. In all honesty, I had forgotten she was there, but for an instant, I was in the eye of the hurricane – seeing her beautiful eyes, just watching me, was enough to quell my anger for the briefest of moments. Time stood still, and I reached out and unconsciously brushed the back of my hand on her cheek. Her skin was so incredibly soft. 'Perfect.' The word drifted into my mind.
"We're coming back no matter what you say, Zackary," my dad said coldly, and the storm was back in full force, the fury reappeared, flaming up, hot and malevolent, encompassing every part of me. "So you'd better not put up a fuss. We'll be back on November 21st, in a week, and we expect to see you at the airport at 2:30pm, sharp."
