by Ruth Houston
She moved to withdraw her hand from my shoulder but I caught it with my own.
"I'll go first," I suggested, holding her hand with both of mine in my lap. "I'm sorry," I said quietly, bowing my head and concentrating on her hand, because it was too hard to look her in the eye. I turned it palm up and traced the lines on it with my fingertips, wishing I could read her future like a fortune teller and that her future would have me in it somewhere. "Actually, I'm really sorry. I should have listened to you when you wanted to talk. I guess it wasn't fair of me to…ah, assume anything in the first place," I said, rather painfully. "Just…I don't know." I shook my head slightly. "When I saw you in the classroom with him like that, it just made something in me snap. Something really nasty. I don't like him," I said by way of explanation, knowing it sounded a bit too much like an excuse. "Gavin, I mean." There were a lot of things I was implying with my words, and there was a lot to be read between the lines. I didn't know if she was hearing all those hidden messages. If she did, she didn't show it.
"I know," Winter said, her eyes flitting up to mine. "I'm sorry too. For…for yelling at you, and, uh, punching you, I guess. My fist is probably the most sorry," she said ruefully, turning her hand over in mine and curling it into a fist. I rubbed my thumb over her knuckles. "If it's any consolation, my knuckles hurt really badly afterwards." She laughed lightly.
"Even now I'm amazed that between the two of you, you guys didn't manage to knock out one of my molars," I grinned.
She smiled.
"I guess there's another explanation I owe you," I said. She knew what I was talking about, no doubt. "And before I give it, can I ask you why you never questioned me about it?" This was another thing that had been bothering me at the back of my mind. Why hadn't she asked? Hadn't she been curious, at all, after we had gotten back on good terms, why I had stopped sending letters? Was it because she didn't care, or because it didn't matter to her?
Winter nodded slowly. "I didn't really want push you for it. I really wanted to know. Still want to know, in fact. But I figured you would tell me when you were ready, and –"
Just then Victoria walked into the kitchen, carrying only a single paper brown grocery bag.
"Victoria!" I exclaimed, jumping off my stool purely from surprise.
She looked equally surprised to see both of us there. "Goodness, Winter, please tell me the two of you have made up," she said, sweeping by me to the refrigerator with an air of one who is very pleased with oneself, a faint smirk on her face.
"I guess we have," Winter said, biting back a smile.
"Good. I don't think I can take another day of Zack's sulking," Victoria said matter-of-factly.
"Hey! I do not sulk!" I said petulantly.
Winter stifled a laugh.
I rounded on her. "Do I?" I implored with big eyes.
"No, of course not," she said sweetly, reaching up to ruffle my hair, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Oh, you're no help at all," I said, defeated, sitting back down.
She ruined the moment by sneezing.
"Bless you," Victoria and I said in unison.
"Are you sick, dear?" Victoria asked, pulling a milk carton out of the grocery bag and putting it in the fridge. Was that all she had bought? Three hours for a carton of milk?
"Yeah," Winter replied.
"Tissue?" I asked gallantly, whipping out a box of Kleenex from the other side of the counter.
"Why thank you, Prince Charming," she said, taking one.
"You'd better get home and go to sleep quick," Victoria said kindly. "You look exhausted."
"Oh, I'm okay," she said, yawning.
"Yeah, you're really okay," I said. "Come on, I'll drive you home."
"You don't have your car," she pointed out.
"We'll go get it," I decided, standing up.
"Alright. Bye, Victoria," Winter waved as we left the kitchen.
"Come over again soon, dear," the housekeeper replied.
"Give me your keys," I said as we left the house.
"Why?" she asked, doing a combination sneeze and yawn. "Wow, that was weird," she sniffed.
"That's why," I said, "You're sick and tired."
"Yeah, of your attitude," she finished the line, clutching her keys in her hand with a playful smile.
I laughed. "Attitude, look who's talking," I smirked. "Seriously now, give me the keys. I can't let you drive home like this."
She dropped them in my outstretched hand with a sigh and got in the passenger's seat.
"Good girl," I grinned.
"Watch the brake," she yawned as I put on my seat belt, "You gotta take your foot off the gas way in advance, and brake hard if you want to stop in time. It's not a very sensitive car," she said.
"I'll keep that in mind," I murmured.
She was asleep before I even got to the main road. When I pulled into the Branner High parking lot next to my car, I killed the engine and turned to wake her, but after one look at her I found I didn't have the heart to. Her elbow was propped up on the car door and she was resting her head on her hand. Her hair, by now, was only a little damp, but she was still wearing my t-shirt and boxers. I took the opportunity to admire how long and dark her eyelashes were. I probably would have stayed there all night, just watching her sleep, if a glance at my watch hadn't told me it was already past nine thirty.
I sighed. "Winter," I muttered, shaking her shoulder very gently, "Wake up. You should go home now."
"Mmm, no, let me sleep," she mumbled, her voice low and hoarse. "Zack," she seemed to add on as an afterthought.
I shivered. God, even her voice could do that. "I would, but it's almost ten. Your mom's not going to be too happy if you get home really late," I reasoned with her.
"Ah…you're right," she whispered, opening her eyes and yawning again. She stretched her arms over her head, cat-like, arching her back. It was an action that could have been deliberately provocative, but was a hell of a lot more enticing because I knew she hadn't meant it to be so. "Okay, okay, I'm going," she said, opening her car door.
"Wait, take off your seatbelt before you get out," I cautioned, my mouth quirking up into a smile.
"Ugh," she said blearily, muttering something under her breath. I caught the phrases "stupid seatbelt" and "frickin' alliteration."
"Here, your keys," I said, getting out of the car as she came around to the driver's side.
"Thanks," she said, blinking a few times. "Oh, man I'm tired. Whoo. Okay. Basic Rules of Driving Handbook, rule number one: be awake. So. Waking up, waking up, waking up…" She rolled her head back, cracking her neck in the process. "Oww!"
"Is it working?" I asked seriously.
"Shut up," she replied, hitting my shoulder.
"Yeah, it's working," I chuckled. "I'll follow you home. Go home and go to sleep, okay?"
"Can do," she said, and yawned again. "Aren't you tired?" she asked, getting in the driver's seat. She turned on the ignition and rolled down the car window. I rested my forearms on the ledge and leaned in slightly to talk to her.
"Nah," I said.
"Not even after fighting with Gavin?" she asked.
"Not even," I answered. "If you're tired, turn on the radio and sing along or something," I told her, nodding in the general direction of her car radio.
"Okay," she said.
"Alright. We should go," I said.
I followed her in my car until she reached the safety of her home, gave her a wave which she returned, and turned around to go back to my own home.
Chapter 37: Healed
-Winter-
Zack wasn't at school the next day.
And he never misses school.
Not even if he's unforgivably late (because he always finds a way to smile that thirty thousand watt smile of his and make it forgivable). Not even if he's sick. Not even if he's so exhausted he looks like he'll pass out if you talk too loudly to him. Hell, he rarely even cuts class. Don't ask me why – my guess is that it's part of so
me weird moral code of his, because it's not like he comes because he loves school (he doesn't) and it's not like he even pays attention in class half the time, but the point is, he never misses school. Ever. EVER.
And he wasn't at school today. Something was seriously wrong.
And I was desperate to find out what it was.
I was so filled with anxiety I literally jumped when the 3 o'clock dismissal bell rang. I dashed out of class, grabbed the books I needed from my locker, and sprinted to my car so quickly I got a stitch in my side. I fumbled with my seatbelt, jammed the keys into the ignition, fired up the engine –
– and paused, and turned off the engine again. What exactly had I planned on doing, anyway?
Psh. What? Don't look at me like that. I wasn't about to drive over to his house in a near-panicked state, bang on his front door, and demand of Victoria where he was. Of course not…
Five seconds later I found myself firing up the engine again, and took off in a squeal of tires from the student parking lot.
Every stop sign lasted an eternity, every red light an eternity and a half. My stomach was squirming uncomfortably and I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. By the time I reached Zack's neighborhood I was pulling 50 on residential streets.
I pulled into his driveway and braked so hard I was jerked forward in my seat. I ran to his door and rang the doorbell twice. Luckily, Victoria was very prompt.
"Winter?" Her face held an expression of astonishment. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," I said forcefully, "Where's Zack?"
"Upstairs in his room," she replied, obviously puzzled.
I squeezed past her through the door and took the stairs two at a time. I skidded to a stop in front of his bedroom door, heart beating wildly. Was he okay? Was he even alive still?! I didn't bother knocking, simply flung open his door.
"Zack!" I exclaimed breathlessly.
He was propped up in bed by a pillow, listening to his Mp3 player with his eyes closed, and his eyes flew open at my voice. Surprise, then the beginning of a smile flitted across his handsome face as he pulled off his headphones. "Winter? Hey –"
"Where have you been?" I demanded, stomping over to his bedside. "God, I thought you'd died or something! You had me absolutely sick with worry! My god. Don't you dare ever do that to me again!" I ranted. "Do you know what I went through today? I was so worried about you! I kept seeing you in my mind's eye, dead or injured or something! I thought –!"
He had caught my arm and tugged hard so I lost my balance and fell sideways into his lap.
"Winter," he said. His voice was quiet and low with tiredness, though his face was still lit up with a boyish grin. "You can shut up now." And he planted a lazy kiss on my cheek. "I'm obviously fine," he continued.
He had effectively shocked me into silence. Suddenly, my head was spinning and my face felt very flushed.
"Uh, Zack, are you okay?" I asked him, skin tingling.
"He's kind of out of it, to be honest with you," Victoria's voice interjected. She had just entered the room. "He was running an extremely high fever all last night. He's on a lot of ibuprofen right now."
Indeed, Zack did appear rather out of it, which was evident in the glassiness of his eyes, though he seemed exasperated at Victoria's words, insisting (with a yawn inserted half-way through), "I'm fine. Really. You make it sound worse than it is." I stood up, gently untangling my fingers from his – I didn't even realize he had grabbed my hand – and joined Victoria at the door.
"He's really sick," Victoria said quietly to me such that Zack couldn't hear, her voice etched with worry. "It's just the flu, really, but our family doctor dropped by last night and said Zack's case is really serious. Apparently his immune system is extremely weak right now, so the flu bug is hitting him a lot harder than it should. I get the feeling he hasn't been taking care of himself very well recently."
We both looked toward him. His exhaustion from his illness was obvious, though he was still watching us like a hawk, suspiciously, saying nothing.
"Do you have any idea why his immune system is so weak?" the good housekeeper asked me almost desperately in a whisper.
I had an inkling of an idea, but didn't want to share it with her just yet, so I shook my head. "He's going to get better though?" I asked urgently.
"Yes, of course," Victoria replied. "It's a really bad, bad flu, but he'll get better."
I nodded, looking back towards Zack again. "Do you mind if I stay…?"
"Not at all," she said with a gentle smile. "Right now I think your presence might have more healing power for him than all the medicine in the world. But make him drink his juice."
I gave her a weak smile as she slipped back out of the room.
"So," I said slowly, drawing out the single syllable to fill up the quiet and approaching his bed again after Victoria closed the door behind her, "You're sick, huh?" I couldn't think of anything better to say.
"Yeah," Zack said in a low voice. "What were you two talking about?"
I began dragging his desk chair to his bedside. "She just told me how your immune system is not very strong right now," I said lightly.
"Oh," he said as I sat down in his chair.
"Yeah, oh," I teased half-heartedly.
He was frowning slightly. "Why are you sitting all the way over there?" he asked, his voice carrying a trace of a whine.
"Well, where do you want me to sit?" I replied.
He patted the empty spot next to him in his bed, and I laughed softly.
"Please?" he said, begging me with puppy dog eyes. "Do the sick patient a favor." He had already reached out and was pulling me by the hand.
Ah. Hell. Damn those eyes!
I reluctantly crawled onto his bed.
"Under the covers," he commanded.
"I'm wearing jeans," I said, feeling that the argument was more than a little fruitless.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Zack asked humorously. "If you don't like wearing them you could always…oh, I don't know, take them off." His eyes were grinning wickedly at me.
"In your bed? Hah, I don't think so. I'll keep them on, thanks very much," I said firmly, wriggling under the covers.
"Prude," he teased with a wink.
"Horny perv," I countered with a reluctant grin as he looped an arm around me and pulled me to him so my right side was pressed up against his left. His body was very warm and his hand came to rest on top of my stomach. I don't think he was even thinking about the action, but he was tapping his fingertips in a pattern that I knew must have been some piano piece.
"Only horny for you," he said with a very toothy smile. I couldn't figure out if he was joking or not.
"Someone's playful today," I said, trying to ignore the warmth that spread from his hand.
He shrugged.
"U-umm, so…what happened? How'd you get sick?" I asked, more to start a conversation to distract myself from the way he was gazing at me intensely than anything else.
"Same way everyone else gets sick," Zack shrugged again, then yawned. "I'm beat."
"Haven't you been sleeping the whole day?" I asked. It was then that I noticed the dark circles under his eyes.
"Well…" He averted his gaze from mine.
"Zack," I exhaled, half exasperatedly, half worriedly. I reached out and traced the evidence of his sleeplessness lightly with my fingertips. It was his silent confession that made something in my chest wrench. He'd been avoiding this topic for too long. And I berated myself, too, for not catching on sooner, for not recognizing the signs, for not confronting him about the suspicions I'd had.
"Zack…" I said, still running my fingertips over the dark circles under his eyes. I sat up closer to him, curling my legs underneath me. His eyes had closed upon my touch, and I stroked his cheek, my chest tightening painfully.
"You've figured it out, haven't you?" It wasn't a question; not really, because he already knew the answer.
"I wish you wouldn't do this
to yourself," I whispered. I moved to pull my hand away, but he covered it with his own to hold it there. He turned his cheek into my hand and caressed it, almost as a form of apology.
"I can't help it," he said hoarsely, not meeting my eyes. "I don't know how to make it go away. It just doesn't. I've tried everything. Melatonin pills, everything. It's not even that I have trouble falling asleep. I just can't stay asleep. It's hurting my health, Winter. I'm pretty sick right now."
"I know, Zack," I said, shaking my head slightly. "I just don't understand. Why didn't you go to a doctor or something?"
He gave a half-shrug. "I don't know. I thought it would eventually go away, I guess. I figured, hey, I run cross country, I'm in shape, I try to eat fairly healthy, I should be ok, right?" He laughed quietly, bitterly.
"Did you tell your doctor? Victoria said something about you having a family doctor, or something," I said softly.
"Didn't get a chance to. He was in and out of here so fast. Asked questions the whole time: how you feeling? Sore body? Runny nose? Headache? Been drinking enough water? What was the last thing you ate? I didn't even manage to get a word in edgewise. I was going to tell him. Honest, I was." His eyes begged of me to believe him.
"You don't have to try to convince me," I said with a half-smile, "I believe you."
He sighed deeply, sliding himself down so he was lying, tugging lightly on my arm to get me to mimic him, which I did. His right arm immediately snaked around me, resting across my middle, his fingers running through my hair. "I'm sorry," he said.
"For what?" I asked, surprised.
"For not telling you."
"Zack, I'm not upset that you didn't tell me. It's more that this insomnia's been plaguing you for so long and deteriorating your health slowly…that's what really gets me. I don't want you to be sick, you know?" I said. "I want you to be healthy. Seeing you sick like this…it really, uh…it sucks," I laughed weakly, unable to communicate to him through words exactly how much it sucked.
He was looking at me with another of his unreadable expressions, and I looked away because his eyes were so golden and so beautiful it caused my throat to ache.
He exhaled a contented sort of half-sigh, his eyes closing as he pulled me to him even closer, burying his face in my neck. Reminding myself that he was on heavy medication and his head was probably pretty hazy with sleepiness, I let him do so without thinking twice about the possible meaning behind the actions, and massaged the back of his neck gently. His physical presence made the little hairs on my arms stand up.
