by Ruth Houston
"Why don't you kiss him? Have a hot make-out session," Tristan suggested, grinning at me through the rearview mirror.
"Tristan!" I moaned. "You're not helping."
"I'm being serious."
"Doesn't look like it," Eva sniffed.
"Winter," Tristan said firmly. "That guy is so whipped over you. I don't think he knows it, and I don't think you know it either, but he is. Has been since the first time I met him. It's so obvious."
I scoffed. "Yeah, right. Why would Zack be completely whipped over some girl –"
"The thing is," Tristan cut in gently. "He's not head over heels with just 'some girl'. It's you. That makes all the difference."
We were all quiet for a moment, before he ruined it by complaining, "Listen to me. I'm sounding more and more like a shrink every day. I really need to get away from Branner."
Eva slapped him on the shoulder. "Shut up, Tristan," she said. She seemed to be thinking hard. Later in the afternoon I found out just what it was she had been pondering about in that pretty little head of hers.
"You can't just let it go like this, Winter," she lectured me as we made pizza for dinner. I didn't know how she did it, but Eva made the best homemade pizzas I'd ever tasted in my whole life. She had decided to make it tonight as a sort of treat for everyone to celebrate winter vacation. "You can't. Higher, please."
I just shrugged a little and obeyed her request, tilting the bowl of pizza sauce at a steeper angle so she could spoon it out onto the crust.
"Thanks. Pepperoni, please."
I was her assistant chef. I turned around and found the bowl of said ingredient sitting by the microwave and started helping her layering it on top of the sauce. She had once explained to me that putting it under the cheese kept it from burning too quickly. I picked up most of life's little facts this way from her.
"So here's what you're going to do," Eva continued. "You're going to confront him about it."
"What? I'm going to drive over to Zack's house and bang on his door and yell at him to come out or something? By the way, you've got a spot of flour on your cheek." I wiped it off for her.
"Thanks. Yeah, that's what you're going to do."
I stared at her. "You can't be serious."
"I am," she said sternly. "You can't just let him leave. He's being a coward. And I'm sorry too. I should have said something sooner, since I've known about it for so long. I just figured he would eventually tell you himself. I had no idea he'd drag it out this long. Ahora el queso, por favor."
I grabbed the bag of shredded mozzarella out of the refrigerator. "You've been studying too much for Spanish. What am I going to say?"
Eva paused and considered. "I have no idea," she admitted. "But as long as you go to his house, the job will be half done. I'm sure you'll figure something out. You're a smart gal." She tapped the top of my head, probably sprinkling it with flour at the same time.
"Must you always bring to mind the fact that I'm shorter than you?" I grumbled.
"Yup," Eva said cheerily. "It's the only thing that ever brightens my day."
"Ha, right," I grinned.
xxxxx
As it turns out, Eva is way too big an influence on me. Someday, I really should sever all my ties with her and drift away; that way I wouldn't get into so much trouble from her hare-brained schemes that almost never work out. Because that was what happened with her idea to force me to confront Zack: I got in trouble over it.
Every time I went over to his house, he wasn't there. I didn't know if he was there but was having everyone make excuses for him, or if he really was not at home. The first time I went, Victoria came to the door. She kindly told me that Zack was out (where, she didn't know or specify) and invited me in to have some food. I politely declined and asked her to tell him that I'd dropped by and that I wanted to see him.
The second time I swung by, it wasn't so easy. His parents were home.
Victoria answered the door again. "Winter! What a pleasant surprise. Zack's not home again," she said, then whispered, "You'd better leave, dear. Mr. Crowne is –"
"Who's there, Victoria?" Mr. Crowne asked, approaching behind her.
I gritted my teeth.
"Oh, it's you," he said coldly, looking at me over Victoria's shoulder and pushing the housekeeper to one side so he could fully face me. I was proud to say that for once, I wasn't being fully looked down upon when someone was mad at me. Mr. Crowne was barely three inches taller than me.
"Yes," I said as calmly as I could. "I just wanted to see Zack."
"Well, Zackary isn't home right now," Mr. Crowne said. "And he won't be in very much for all of winter vacation. He's preparing to move to Italy at the end of your fall semester. So don't come around again." He shut the door in my face.
The third time I went around, Mrs. Crowne answered the door.
Her eyes lit up when she saw me. "Winter! How nice of you to drop by! How are you?"
"I'm fine," I said, smiling slightly. "I was just wondering –"
"Zack's not home right now," she said gently, her striking golden eyes gazing at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry. He has told you that he will be transferring to an American school, has he not?"
"Not quite in so many words," I said truthfully. In fact, in no words at all, I thought to myself. "Anyway," I said, looking down a little. It was hard to meet her eyes when she was looking at me that understandingly. "Uhm, can – could you just tell him for me that I dropped by and that I wanted to see him? Please?"
"Of course," Mrs. Crowne said warmly. "I definitely will. You know, I would love to invite you in –" She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But, I'm sorry to say, my husband is not very… fond of you."
I nodded. "I've noticed," I replied. I wondered briefly how such a beautiful woman had ended up with a cold hearted man like Mr. Crowne. "Well," I said a little regretfully, "In case I don't get to see you again before you move back to Italy, it was wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Crowne." I dared to raise my eyes to hers and found two pairs of eyes looking at me.
"What are you doing here?" Mr. Crowne asked, eyes flashing. "I thought I told you never to come near this house again."
"Look," I said, my anger starting to rise. "I just wanted to talk to Zack. He's my f – boyfriend," I corrected myself hastily, "And I think I have the right to talk to him, you know. It's not illegal."
Mrs. Crowne was attempting to push him back. "Joshua, be reasonable," she was saying firmly. "You've really taken it too far now." She mumbled something to him in Italian and he left, giving me one last glare.
"Don't let me catch you around here again," he finished threateningly.
I smiled at him, which seemed to make him angrier. He didn't scare me in the least.
"You probably should go now," Mrs. Crowne said quietly, sweeping me up into a hug. After my initial surprise, I relaxed into her embrace and hugged her back. "Oh, yes. It was wonderful to meet you as well. The pleasure was all mine. Thank you."
"For what?" I said as we parted, puzzled.
She beamed at me and for a moment I saw a trace of Zack's smile. "For what you've done for Zack. I can tell," Mrs. Crowne said, tapping her temple lightly, "That you've done wonders for him."
I opened my mouth to speak and found I had no words. Instead, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. I rubbed the back of my neck and hopped a little from foot to foot, embarrassed. "Thanks," I said awkwardly. "Anyway, I've – I've gotta go. Bye, Mrs. Crowne."
"I hope that someday we'll meet again," she said with one last smile, and closed the door after I turned away.
After that third try, I gave up.
xxxxx
For the next three weeks, I saw nothing of him, not even at school. Nothing at all. It was as if Zack had simply melted off the face of the planet. My planet, at least. I knew he was there from Eva's report that he showed up every day to English, but I never saw him.
Much as I hated to admit it (because it made me sound clingy), I missed him, and I d
isliked it even more that slowly, I felt more and more that I would never even get the chance to say goodbye to him before he left. Winter break passed, Dead Week passed. Finals passed too, though I didn't think I passed them. We had the Friday of finals week off as semester break. I tried to get out of the house, I really did. I played tennis with Rebecca, worked out at the gym for two hours with Martin, went to the mall with Eva and all of her siblings for some strange, inexplicable reason, saw "A Series of Unfortunate Events" with them, and treated them all as a late holiday present to ice cream. It was fun.
But something felt like it was missing, and I didn't have to reach too far into my mind to know what it was.
I fell asleep that night trying to figure out exactly what it was about Zack that had gotten to me and why I cared so much. The only safe reason I could come up with was that he was a friend, and that I was concerned about him. And plus, he had opened up to me about his past. But still… I knew that something about him had stuck with me, somewhere along the way. I didn't know what it was, but it was there. It took me an hour of tossing and turning that night to fall into a light sleep. At 2:30am, I was wide awake again.
"I can't do this," I muttered to myself, pushing off the covers, and got up to use the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and took a shower. There was no way I was going to be able to fall back asleep now. I returned to my room and listened to my old CD player for a while with the volume turned way down low as I wrote in my journal. Usually the words came easily, but this morning my brain was at a standstill. It wasn't even that I was tired or anything, just that whatever it was I wanted to write about didn't come out.
I was three sentences into my entry when something hit my window with a crack and I jumped. I stilled and turned off my CD player, then closed my journal. There it was again.
Crack.
I got up cautiously from my desk and crept toward my window. It happened again.
Crack.
Now I don't know about you, but at my house, windows don't just start randomly cracking before dawn, so I pulled apart my white curtain a little and peeked out.
I took one look out and immediately jerked back, heart pounding. I blinked a little then told myself to breathe.
I looked out again to make sure I wasn't just hallucinating. But sure enough, there he was:
Zack.
Zack, standing outside my window, throwing pebbles at my window in the middle of the night like it happened all the time.
"Oh sure," I said to myself sarcastically. "I've only not talked to him for a month now." I leaned forward and pulled back the curtains again. He was gesturing at me to open it, and I did so. I shivered when the wind blew over my wet hair.
"What are you doing here?" I hissed.
"Winter," he called up quietly. "Please, come down. I know – look, I know I – just come down, please. We need to talk."
And with that he was gone, a shadow on my driveway.
Had he gone mad?
I started out of my room then went back for a jacket, realizing that if we were going to talk it would be outside, and I would inevitably freeze to death if I didn't have another layer on.
Zack was at my front step waiting when I opened the door.
"Hey," he said, smiling at me strangely.
I gave him an odd look. "Hey," I said slowly.
"Can I come in?"
"It's 2:30 in the morning," I whispered.
"I know," he said, laughing a little. Again, it was strange laugh. "Please, then. Can I please come in? May I? It's cold out here."
I let him in and closed the door, then turned on a dim light.
"What is it?" I said softly, turning around to face him.
He seemed undecided at what he should do, then took a second glance at me. I was wearing nothing but boxer shorts, a tank top, and a jacket that looked ridiculously out of place.
"Is that my jacket?" he asked quietly, coming closer.
I looked at it, and realized he was right. "Yeah, I guess it is," I replied, my heart hammering for an unknown reason. I was nervous. Why, I had no idea.
Zack didn't stop coming closer. In fact, he came so close he had backed me up against the wall. Then, a step away, he stopped and looked at me again.
"Winter?" he whispered.
"Uh huh?"
"Sometimes I wonder if you wear this kind of stuff just to drive me insane," he said, eyes burning into mine.
Now that he was so close, I realized what it was that had seemed off about him – he had been drinking. I could smell it on him, though it wasn't strong.
I narrowed my eyes. "Zack, have you been drinking?"
"Just a little," he chuckled, stepping closer. His body brushed against mine. "Don't worry. No beer or anything. Just some of my dad's nice wine. I figured he owed me something."
"Zack?" I whispered uncertainly as the length of his body pressed into mine. He was so close. So close. He lowered his head a little towards mine.
"Hmm?"
"Zack, I think you're a little drunk," I said softly, then gasped when his lips brushed against my skin. "Zack?"
He started trailing his lips over my neck, resting his hands on my hips and unconsciously tracing circles on my bare skin there with the pads of his thumbs. He moved from my neck to my collarbone, raking his teeth over it then flicking his tongue over it soothingly, making me shiver. He felt it and maneuvered our bodies so we were impossibly close, never removing his lips from my skin the whole time.
"Zack," I tried to reason with him, but found I couldn't quite think straight when he was making me hot all over like that.
"Yeah?" he murmured, sucking and nibbling on my neck. "Do you know that you are so sexy when your hair is wet?" He tucked a strand behind my ear and allowed his hand to rest on my cheek, still wandering his lips over my skin. By the time he reached my ear, I was pressing against him without even meaning to and desperately, fruitlessly trying to come up with a last excuse to make him stop. I couldn't think of one. He had taken my ear lobe between his lips and was doing all sorts of stuff with it with his tongue that made all thoughts fly clear out of my mind.
"Zack, do you know what you're doing?" I moaned, as his lips traveled ever closer to my own, following my jaw line.
"Hopefully driving you as crazy as you drive me," Zack whispered hoarsely between kisses when he could manage it. "But I know what you're asking." He drew away and gazed intently at me. I almost cried out at the loss. "I know what I'm doing."
With that, his lips crashed into mine, hungrily and fiercely. I could only kiss him back, not caring anymore if he was drunk or not. His lips were hot and inviting, and so needy – it was like he needed to feel me there, to make sure we were really in my living room, kissing, and that I wouldn't disappear. Zack kissed me just like I knew he would – deeply, passionately, urgently. He tasted lightly of what I could only imagine was red wine, as I'd never tasted it myself before, and he tasted slightly bitter, but sweet too, and swirling with mystery and the unknown.
His hand that was resting on my hip slid up a little, pushing up my shirt, but went no father than the small of my back. He cupped the back of my head with the other, bringing us as close as possible. Automatically my hands found their way into his hair.
He drew back a little and tormented me relentlessly for a while, dragging his tongue across my swollen bottom lip tantalizingly, but not allowing me to get close enough to taste his lips. I gave a frustrated sigh and yanked his head back down to mine. This time, I let his tongue slip between my lips. He explored my mouth for a while, and I soon found that it didn't take much to make him want more of me. I nipped the corner of his mouth lightly and kissed him there teasingly and he groaned, pressing harder against me.
"God, Winter," he said in between hungry kisses. "You don't know how long – I've been waiting –" He stopped when I brushed my tongue against his lip experimentally. "You are one helluva kisser, you know that?" he breathed, and we both slowed down. His lips hovered over mine for a long moment, ba
rely touching. I closed the distance and we kissed, this time slowly and sweetly. At the last moment I kissed him harder and bit his bottom lip, enough for it to sting.
"That was for being an asshole," I mumbled as he continued to kiss me, seemingly unaffected. We broke apart, then Zack brushed his lips against my own again softly, and we were done, both breathing hard. He rested his cheek against mine so I couldn't see his face, but his chest was heaving and he was shaking a little, and I knew I was as well. A second later, I felt something warm and wet slide down my cheek. It was his tears.
He grabbed my hand and shoved something in it, curling my fingers over the object and holding my fist like that for a second. He let go almost as quickly.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice raw with emotion. "I swear, I'm sorry Winter. I don't know what I'm thinking anymore, I really don't. I shouldn't have done that. I should leave now." Zack backed away from me, still crying those silent, bitter tears. He wiped them away absently.
"No!" I cried softly. "Are you kidding me? There's no way you're driving home now." I moved toward him and rested my hand on his forehead. "God, you're burning up. You're staying here for the rest of the night," I whispered firmly. "You can't drive after you've been drinking. I don't even know how you managed to get here in one piece." I held his face in my two hands and brushed away his hot tears. "C'mon. We have to be quiet though."
Everything after that seemed to happen in a blur. Even the next morning, I couldn't completely recall exactly how I had gotten him upstairs and tucked under my covers without waking up my parents. I do remember dragging my desk chair to the bedside and sinking down into it, stroking his forehead until he fell asleep. I remember that after Zack did fall unconscious, he kept murmuring things under his breath, until I whispered, "Good night," in his ear. Only then did he quiet down, and his breathing evened out. I don't even remember falling asleep, but the next morning, he was gone.
I woke up in my bed and had to blink a few times, wondering why I was there. Then I remembered more or less of what had happened the previous night, but then confusion set in – why was I the one in bed?
I scrambled up and looked around my room for Zack. He wasn't there.
