It Started With A High Kick

2.

Five weeks had passed since that fateful phone call. Winter and I were closer than ever, especially after the sleep over. We had discussed the divorce for a while, but mainly strove for a fun night. We had gone shopping the next day, gotten our ears double pierced (triple on one side, for Winter), and forgotten all worries. There was, as usual, that mad scramble to finish summer reading and the follow-up homework starting the third week of August. Every afternoon had found Winter and me sitting quietly in the library, eyes skimming over pages, fingers frantically fumbling through papers, pens scribbling at super sonic speed to beat the first day of school. Keeping busy helped, and work allowed me to forget everything. Especially with Winter, there was never time to think - just moments to be.

School started the last week of August, and with it came many set backs and problems. Mom was still willing to help out around the house on weekends, but that was the only time we saw her. Otherwise, she spent her days at work, and her evenings trying to find an apartment in Hampton or organizing legal things. Transportation to and from school now rested on my father's shoulders, who, before the separation, had gone to work before any of us woke up and did not come home until eight in the evening. It was okay for Tristan, Anthony, and me, because Tristan had a car. But Sammy, Matty, and Emily all needed to be dropped off at their respective schools. Now my father was leaving the house later than usual, and getting home even later. We saw him even less than we saw Mom. He had taken to working on weekends too. Winter came over every afternoon to help out with all the chores that were newly assigned to Tristan and me, and the two of us were extremely grateful. But we knew she couldn't do this all year. When the school work really started to pick up, she wouldn't have enough time.

"I am exhausted," my best friend said. She was sitting at our dining table, head resting in her arms. I looked out of the window behind her - it was raining softly. Through a tired haze, my brain was still awake enough to register that Winter's hair looked particularly nice today - I had always admired her long auburn tresses. She must have used some new shampoo or something - today it was shinier than usual, but still cascaded down her shoulders in pretty waves as it normally did. Hmm, I had to ask her about that later.

"Me too," I whispered. We had just finished our homework, after getting dinner on the table and sentencing the kids to do the dishes. Winter had been here since school had ended, nearly eight hours ago. The clock read 11:03pm.

"Me three," Tristan groaned. He was sitting next to Winter, supporting his head on his fist of a propped up elbow.

"Tennis matches… start next week," Winter said softly. "To think, this is only the second week of school."

"Dad's not home yet," Tristan made a mumbled observation.

"I should go home now," Winter said.

"Just stay," I sighed.

"I don't wanna have to drive you home," Tristan muttered to her.

"I'm flattered," Winter said, picking up her head. "If I didn't like you guys so much, I might have thought that this was a ploy to get me to help y'all out tomorrow morning." She grinned at me tiredly.

"Well, you got me figured out, at least," my brother groaned again. "Just let me sleep in ten minutes extra tomorrow, be a good girl."

Winter laughed.

"Damn chem exam tomorrow," I moaned, which stopped her laughing.

"Yea," she said, gazing at a vase morosely. "I haven't studied yet. Maybe I can study on the bus tomorrow morning."

"Car," I corrected.

"Wha…?" was the intelligent response.

"You won't be taking the bus tomorrow," Tristan reminded. "Because you'll be coming with us. If you're staying over tonight."

"Oh… oh, yeah, that's right," Winter said faintly, looking as if she really didn't care if she had to go to school tomorrow on the back of a hippopotamus, so long as she could go to sleep right then.

These were pretty much what our nightly conversations consisted of - short, random sentences pieced together with what little energy we had left. It had already become tradition for the three of us to seek out a bit of peace, sympathy, and solace in these nightly meetings.

"What's for breakfast tomorrow, Ev?" Winter asked.

"Toast?"

"Okay, as long as I get jam and butter duty," she replied. "You get toasting duty, Tristan."

"Goody," my older brother feigned excitement with a wave of his hand. "That's something I can do while half-asleep." He ran his hands through his tousled dirty blonde hair, which was much the same color as mine. We looked the most alike out of all our siblings - it was the hair, and the same cerulean blue eyes, heart-shaped face, tall, lean figure. The only difference was that Tristan's looks were more rugged, and rougher around the edges, something, apparently, that drove the girls crazy. I, for one, couldn't see it.

"Just don't burn down the house," Winter said in reply to Tristan's comment.

"Lunch?" I then asked. We were chefs, discussing our daily menus before turning in. This was the last thing we talked about every night.

"PB&J," Tristan replied promptly. "I'm not slapping another ham and cheese together this week."

"Amen," Winter contributed.

"I agree," I said.

"Dinner?"

"Those Asian instant Ramen noodles. Easiest thing ever," Tristan said. "A true blessing to mankind."

"Are we done for tonight?" Winter yawned. "I could fall asleep right here."

"Let's go to bed. You'd better call your parents first, Win. Night, Tris," I said as Winter and I got up.

He waved a hand in reply, head buried in his arms.

Winter and I were half-way up the stairs when we heard a muffled, frustrated yell downstairs from Tristan: "Aaaah crud, I haven't finished my English essay yet! Why?! Why me - ?!"

Just the end of another day.

Looking back on those months, I cannot imagine how we would have survived without Winter and the support of her family. Her parents completely understood, and gave rides to us whenever we needed it, took the kids off our hands whenever they could manage it.

Life was tiring, school was even worse. It was hell.

I used to be a straight-A student. Honor-roll, star volleyball player, and MVP on the basketball team. Now, I was lucky to get Bs on tests and to be placed on the second string.

To make matters worse (or funnier, if you wanted to be optimistic), Winter said some person I didn't know had been stalking me. Was she hallucinating? I thought so too.

"I'm serious, Ev," she said as we pushed through the halls on our way to Spanish 5-6, the one class we had together in the morning. "He's always watching you. Always . I'll just be randomly looking around the cafeteria at lunch, and bam! I'll see him, sitting by himself, staring at you! And every time I walk you to Drama and Pre-Cal, he's there, waiting outside. I swear, the next time I see him -"

"-The next time you see him," I interrupted her, "You'll point him out to me."

She glanced reproachfully at me when I cut in. "Fine," she said. As we neared the Spanish classroom, she suddenly grabbed my arm.

"Look!" she hissed, pulling on my arm. "Now he's taken to stalking you to Spanish class!"

I looked at where she was pointing, and when I saw the person she was glaring furiously at, I laughed.

"I fail to see what's so funny, Eva," Winter sniffed frostily, shifting her books to her other arm.

"That's just Zack," I smiled and waved at him.

Winter looked appalled. "Don't wave! For all we know, he could be some serial killer who takes a sadistic pleasure in stalking and scaring his victims before he tortures them to death!"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you remember Zack?"

"No," she said immediately.

"Oh come on, of course you remember him. Woodshop? Sixth grade?"

No recognition dawned on my best friend's face. "No, I don't remember. That was five years ago."

I sighed and gave a friendly smile to Zack, who was looking at Winter in mild amusement.

"Hi," I said to him, as Winter gave him one last icy glance and stalked into the classroom.

He nodded at me. "Apparently I'm a serial killer who takes a sadistic pleasure in stalking and scaring my victims before I torture them to death this morning."

I laughed. "Don't mind her. She's got a lot to deal with right now."

He gave me one last nod, then departed without a word. Weird. I shrugged it off and joined Winter inside the classroom.

Her chocolate eyes flashed as I slid into the seat next to her. "Done fraternizing with the man who will ultimately be your downfall?"

"Oh, stop being dramatic, Win," I said, smiling. The simple gesture seemed enough to melt her indignation.

She sighed. "What did he want?"

"Nothing. I don't know. I didn't ask," I replied.

"That is so weird," she muttered. After a pause, she said, "He probably likes you, you know, if he's stalking you."

"Zack? Nah, I'd never go out with someone like him anyway."

"What do you mean, someone like him?" Winter asked curiously.

This caught me. What did I mean by that?

Zackary Crowne was a mystery to most people, including me. He was deemed cool by the jocks and would occasionally hang out with them, but at other times he chose to talk to skaters, or spend afternoons going over school work with teachers. Detention was one after school pastime he had been assigned more than once as well. I had seen him all over the school. He never seemed to hang out with one single group of people, he simply… drifted. He was accepted by everybody, amiable to all, hated by none, which was the most unusual thing of all. Branner High was your typical high school, and everyone held at least one or two grudges and knew of a couple people they disliked - but no one seemed to dislike Zack. He was quiet, reserved - almost removed from the world around him. That had to be it. He was always in a world of his own.

Little did I know that that day would be the beginning of many which would include him in our own worlds.