Love Storm

by Ruth Houston

  I missed her so much it was driving me crazy. She had never sent me that letter; I guessed that she was still mad, and the thought tortured me. I knew I had screwed up, but had I really messed up that badly? If I knew Winter at all, she'd still send me a letter, even if she was so mad that if I was still in California she wouldn't be on speaking terms with me.

  So I waited, and waited, and waited…and, one day in the first week of March, a month and a half into the new semester, I received mail.

  Everyone at the school was allowed to receive letters, and usually you just went down to the main desk in the office building by yourself to check the list to see if you had any mail. If you did, you would ask the secretary, Miss Bonetti, to unlock the mail room and get your mail for you.

  I got a call one weekend afternoon when Leo and I were stuck in our dorm doing homework. Langston, Andy, and Darius had also come up to our room, but they had already given up on their homework and were playing cards. BS was the choice of the day. Langston was shouting angrily at Darius because the latter had pulled the biggest BS on the other two that I had ever seen when the phone rang.

  Andy dove for it, yelling, "I GOT IT! Hello?...Yeah, he's right here. Zack, it's for you."

  "Oooh, someone's in trouble," the rest of the guys chorused as I took the phone from Andy.

  "Hello?"

  "Is this Zackary?"

  "Yeah," I said, casting a curious glance in Leo's direction. He shrugged, stretching in his chair and yawning. The phones we had in our dormitories were only used to call between rooms and to receive calls from the office. Darius, Andy, and Langston had turned back to their game of BS while all trying to pretend not to be eavesdropping. They were failing quite miserably.

  "Zack, this is Miss Bonetti, the secretary."

  "Oh," I said blankly. "Hi."

  "Do you ever get mail?"

  "No," I said, stifling a yawn of my own as Leo asked me, "Who is it?"

  "Miss Bonetti," I muttered, covering the mouthpiece.

  "Well, we have about eight letters for you downstairs right now, so we decided to give you a call and tell you come down and collect them," Miss Bonetti's voice told me.

  I stilled for a split second, dropped the phone right away, and pelted out of the room in sweats and a beater without even bothering to put on my shoes.

  "Oi!" Leo yelled out our open door as I pushed past him. "What the hell, Zack? Put on some clothes, man!"

  I managed to flip him off before disappearing from his view and dashing down the stairs so fast I almost tripped twice. I ran down three flights of stairs and out the door, and did a 400 meter full out sprint down the road to the office building, flung open the door, and skidded to a stop in front of the main desk barefoot. Miss Bonetti was still there, holding up a phone and staring at it in shock.

  "Well," she said, hanging up, blinking a little, surprised. "Hi."

  "Eight letters?" I said breathlessly. "I want them. Can I have them? Please? My eight letters."

  I hopped anxiously from foot to foot as she led me to the mail room, unlocking the door too slowly for my tastes. I followed her in, which I wasn't supposed to do, hovering over her shoulder the whole time as she hunted for my mail.

  "Eight letters? Are you sure?" I kept asking her. "Eight letters? Where are they? Eight letters for me?"

  "I'm looking," she finally snapped at me. "Can you stop hopping? You're making me nervous. Here they are." She shoved them into my hands, pushed me out, and locked the door as I stared at the letters in my hands dazedly, seeing my name on all of them, written all in the same hand, a continuously flowing scrawl that could only have been one person's handwriting. I shook my head, unable to believe it, a huge grin spreading on my face. Eight letters? Wow. Clutching them tightly, I dashed back to the dorm house, Miss Bonetti tut-tut-ing loudly behind me.

  Leo and the rest of the guys seemed amazed to see me again. They hadn't even closed the door, and Leo was staring off down the hall awaiting my return.

  "What the hell, Zack? You really should consider being a runner. What are those?" he asked as I ran into the room. I set the letters down carefully on my bed then changed as fast as I could, stumbling as I struggled into my jeans and shrugged on a sweater over my beater. I picked the mail back up again, double checking to make sure I had all of them, and pulled on my running shoes.

  I sprinted back out of the room as I heard Langston say behind me, "What's going on?" and jogged out of the dorm building to the quad. There were a lot of people in the courtyard, playing Frisbee on the lawn, reading, or just goofing around, basking in the mellow early spring sun. Too many people. I jogged back out again and this time went to the athletics field. I climbed all the way to the top of the bleachers and there I finally slowed down, sifting through the envelopes. I looked at the dates of the air mail and found the first one. I settled back and pulled open the envelope as carefully as I could. Once the letter was out though, my eyes zipped to the bottom. It was confirmed – all of them were from Winter. This first one was dated January 10th. Why had it taken so long for all of them to get here?

  I learned from reading the letters that they had been sent back to her over and over again. I saw that the addresses on the outsides had been crossed out and edited quite a few times. I laughed. I must have written down the address for her incorrectly, and here she was, guessing and guessing and making minute changes every time she got them back until she finally got it perfect. She told me that as soon as I got the letters, I should write back ASAP so she could get down the right address. I read through all of them over and over again, relishing her words and laughing and getting angry and feeling sad and indignant, all on her behalf. Each letter was at least three pages long, all hand written.

  January 14th

  Track is killing me. My shoes are giving me shin splints. It's quite painful – I have to ice both my legs after practice everyday. The school trainer told me to put in insoles, so I did, but it's not helping. I'm never buying another pair of Nikes again; they're too narrow for me. Becks recommends New Balance – any other suggestions?

  January 18th

  It's my birthday today. Sweet sixteen! I'm going for my driver's license in two weeks…wish me luck. I'll need all the luck I can get. I think the DMV really does not want me to get my license. I had to take my driver's permit test three times before they decided I was ready enough. I mean, seriously now – three times? I'm willing to bet that you probably didn't have to take your test three times.

  January 23rd

  It is officially not funny anymore. I can't find the address of your school online anywhere, and I swear your postal code is wrong or something. It looks like it should be 102563, but maybe I'm misreading your writing. I think my mailman is getting tired of sending back all these letters over and over again. Hopefully it won't be the middle of June before I figure out the right address.

  Those were just snippets of some of her letters. I sat there on the top bleachers until it turned dark, and I couldn't read them anymore, and jogged back to my dorm house.

  "What are you smiling about?" Leo asked, staring at me as I slipped into the room. Everyone else had left already, and I saw the forgotten seven of hearts sitting on the ground.

  "I've got mail," I sang, kicking off my shoes. "You hungry yet? I'm starving. Let's go eat."

  "Well, you should be starving," he retorted, "After all that running you've done. Where'd you go? And stop smiling, you're scaring me Zack."

  "I've got mail," I said again, feeling exceptionally happy. "Betcha you don't have eight letters, Leonardo Fedele di Orazio."

  He stared at me again, then muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "I knew the boy was mad, knew he was completely fuckin' bonkers the first time I saw him," but I didn't mind at all. With extreme care, I placed the letters in my desk drawer, and dragged Leo out of the dorm house, exuberant.

  When we entered the mess hall, the rest of the guys were already there. There were quick greetings
and nods in our direction as we sat down.

  "Don't talk to him," Leo warned everyone as he started in on his lasagna, pointing at me menacingly with his fork. "Zack's gone so crazy with happiness it's absolutely disgusting."

  Andy, who was sitting on my right, chuckled and said, "So what happened?"

  "I know what happened," Langston called from Andy's other side, dark brown eyes twinkling mischievously, "He finally got a girlfriend."

  There was appreciative laughter from the guys, and I had to smile a little too. It was a joke among them because I never spared the girls at our school a second glance, while they themselves were healthy, growing, testosterone driven male teenagers who couldn't understand why I didn't.

  "Hey," Andy said in my defense, "Maybe he's got a girl back home that he just doesn't wanna share with us about. We don't know." He nudged me with an elbow, and I grinned at him.

  "Oh, how stingy, Zack," Darius said from Leo's left side, "Do share and tell." He winked at me, and pushed his glasses up his nose a little.

  Something seemed to dawn upon Leo. "Hey Zack," he said thoughtfully, chewing on some bread, "Were they from –"

  I silenced him with a glare, and he caught on right away.

  "What was that, Leo?" Langston asked through a mouthful of food.

  "Nothing," I said quickly, and Leo raised his eyebrows. "Hey Darius, when were we going to watch that movie anyway?"

  Darius shrugged as he ate. "We can watch it tonight in the common room if you guys want. My dad sent it over and I got it yesterday in the mail."

  Andy nodded eagerly. "Yeah, let's. It sucks that we have to wait for these DVDs to get shipped over from the States, huh?"

  "We always have to wait for stuff to reach us," Langston complained. "Over here we're always about a month behind."

  I sighed to myself in relief, knowing that once the guys got started in on this subject, it would be a while before they'd stop. It was one of their favorite things to complain about, how while we were attending this school in Italy we were pretty much cut off from everything American. I didn't mind so much.

  All in all, Leo, Andy, Langston, and Darius weren't bad company. They were the coolest people I'd met in a while, at any rate. Leo was always around when you needed a friend to talk to (or listen to), and Andy was always good for some laughs and a game of basketball or a running partner. Langston was our resident ladies' man, but he wasn't as cocky or stuck-up as I had originally thought him. Darius was the smartest of our little group, and if you ever got yourself in a spot of trouble he was the one to go to for good advice. And where did I fit into the picture? I guess in reality I hadn't changed that much – I was still on the more reserved side of things and still liked my privacy, but the guys were cool about it. For some reason they thought I had the mysterious, dark and quiet, stormy, moody, brilliant musician thing going on, though I thought otherwise.

  But for once, I was itching to leave their company to go back to my room and write to Winter. I pondered it over as we watched the movie, and after everyone had returned back to their dorms, I asked Leo, "What's the time difference between San Francisco and here?"

  Leo thought about it as he rummaged through his drawers for some clean clothes. "Dunno," he said, "Nine hours? Ten?"

  "Alright," I said distractedly, doing some mental calculations. Long after we had both showered and Leo was fast asleep in his bed, I crept out of our room, downstairs to the little hall next to the common room, where the public phones were. I sat around for a while, waiting until it was around two o'clock in the morning, before I inserted a few Euros and punched in a number I had memorized a long time ago, crossing my fingers. I waited for four rings, almost giving up, then:

  "Hello?" came a breathless voice over the phone.

  My heart did a funny leap and I found I had some difficulty speaking.

  "Hello?" the voice asked again.

  "Hey," I said, feeling slightly dizzy. "Winter?" I sat down on the ground with my back against the wall, pulling the metallic telephone cord down and twisting in between my fingers.

  "If this is Martin, I'm going to kill you tomorrow morning," Winter's familiar voice warned. "I did not just run out of the shower after a two hour track practice to have you ask me again for Eva's phone number."

  I chuckled. "Winter, it's Zack."

  "Holy –" There was a loud clatter at the other end, and I assumed she had dropped the phone.

  "Zack?" she gasped as her voice came back on the line. "Sorry about that. What the – how are you – why did you – how – what –"

  I laughed. It was good hearing her voice again. "I got your letters."

  "Finally!" she exploded. "I had half a mind to call you at your school, but I couldn't –"

  " – Find the address or phone number of my school anywhere online, I know," I finished for her, "I read your letters, remember?"

  "You – are a jackass," she said. "I just have to say that before we get on with the rest of our conversation. I hate you, you know that?"

  "Still mad?" I asked gloomily.

  "Yes," she said defiantly. "Though not so much as before. I just want an explanation now."

  "What, you're not even going to ask me how I am first?" I teased.

  "I know you're fine, you're definitely alive if I'm talking to you, so that can wait," Winter said impatiently.

  "It probably can," I said cheerfully. "How have you been, my lovely princess?"

  "Fine," she sighed. I could tell she was relaxing a little. "I've been busy lately. What time is it over there?"

  "Two o'clock," I said.

  "In the afternoon?"

  "In the morning."

  "You stayed up until two o'clock in the morning to give me a call?!" Winter said disbelievingly. "I can't believe you."

  "I didn't stay up. I couldn't sleep anyway."

  "How come?" she asked.

  "Just couldn't," I lied. "How's everything? Did you get your license?"

  "No," she said forcefully. "The damn DMV –"

  We talked and talked, and I laughed more in an hour on the phone with her than I had in the month and a half I'd been in Italy. The time flew by, and when she told me she had to go, I was reluctant to hang up with her.

  "Hey Zack," she said softly. "I was mad at you…but I'm still really glad you called."

  I smiled. "I'm glad I called too."

  "Look, it's nice talking to you on the phone, but…I don't think I can afford to have daily hour-long phone conversations with you; my parents will flip just seeing this phone call on their bill. I'll have to make up an excuse. But look, keep writing, alright?"

  "I will," I promised.

  "When are you coming back?"

  I sighed. "I don't know," I said quietly. "I want to just catch the next plane back to San Francisco, but it's not that easy," I said.

  "It is though," she said, still in that soft voice.

  "Hey Winter, before you go," I said. "How…how drunk was I when I went to your house…that night?" I was almost afraid to know the answer.

  "You were drunk," she stated. "Not really, really, I-can't-even-walk-straight drunk, but you had a few glasses. Can you…do you remember anything?"

  "No," I said. "I don't remember anything."

  "Nothing at all?"

  I tried hard to recall anything. "No," I said.

  "Oh…I see."

  "What happened?"

  "N-nothing," she said.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes," she said, more firmly. "Nothing happened. You gave me the tape – which is great by the way, I still listen to it – and then I wouldn't let you drive home by yourself, so I made you stay in my bed."

  I nodded, though she couldn't see me. "Okay," I said.

  "Look, I've really gotta go, Zack," she said. My stomach fluttered a little in the way that it always did when she said my name. "It was…great talking to you, really."

  "Yeah," I agreed. "I'll send you a letter soon."

  "Alright. Talk to you later
."

  "Yeah," I said again, feeling as if something else needed to be said. But I couldn't figure out what it was, so I settled with saying, "I'll call you again some other time."

  "Okay. Bye, Zack."

  "Bye Winter."

  "I'm going to hang up now."

  "…Okay. Bye Winter."

  "Bye."

  "…"

  "I thought you were going to hang up?"

  "I-I am. I am now. Bye."

  "Goodbye."

  "…Bye."

  This time she really hung up. There was a click, and then silence. I stayed there for a while, cradling the phone against my ear with my shoulder, listening to the quiet on the line.

  Chapter 27: Once In a While

  -Winter-

  I hung up, heart beating erratically in my rib cage.

  "Oh my god," I whispered. "Oh my god."

  I ran a trembling hand through my wet hair, then cinched my white robe tighter around my waist. The phone rang again and I jumped. Automatically I answered.

  "H-Hello?"

  "Winter?"

  "Martin?"

  "Yeah."

  "What's up?"

  "Please?"

  I sighed. "Fine. 587-9680."

  "Woah – hold up. Say that again."

  "587-9680. You should be thanking me, you lovesick idiot."

  "Thank you. But I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to say to her, so maybe it's kind of useless having her phone number."

  I considered for a moment. "You don't have a choice," I told him. "You guys go to different schools," I said, ticking the reasons off on my fingers. "You don't get a chance to see her on the weekends. Actually, you don't have an excuse to see her. When was the last time you saw her anyway?"

  "That day I saw you guys at the mall together."

  I scowled. "Yeah, the day we were supposed to be having a girl's afternoon out and you stole her from me."

  Martin chuckled. "Sorry about that. You realize we didn't even really go shopping."

  "I know," I said grudgingly, "She told me you guys just walked around the mall, talking."

  "Yeah. So what do I do now?"

  Involuntarily, I smiled. "You figure it out, Martin. Come on, you're only the most popular junior I've ever met. I'm sure you have something up your sleeve. You guys are too cute."