Unwritten Pages

Chapter Thirty-One: Too Familiar

     “Oh my gosh!” Desiree cries, wiping her eyes with her hands. “That was so sad!” More tears flow down her face as the credits roll in on screen. I pat her back softly as she continues to cry her eyes out. This gets her every time. I don't get why you would cry even though you already knew the ending. I mean, maybe the first time, yes. But...now? I assume it's a girl thing to do. I actually found the movie kind of sappy.

     “And the way he just floated away—out of reach...” Desiree continues to speak. “That was so sad! It was like...saying they would never see each other again. She managed to go on with her life and...”

     “It's alright,” I say. “It's just a movie...that you've probably watched over ten times.” Then I add quickly, “you also cry every single time.”

     “It's emotional!” Desiree argues. “You don't get it! The way she was strong enough to go on... And the way she changed her last name for him! It was so emotional! There's so much love in that! It's a pure love story.”

     “Love stories are boring,” I say blandly. Desiree scowls at me. “Honestly,” I say, “it's all just sappy 'I love you so you love me' stuff. It's stupid. Then they add drama in it where girls have these huge fights over boys. It's all so ridiculous.”

     “No it's not,” Desiree says indignantly. “It's wonderful. It's love. It's bloody brilliant!”

     “You're not British,” I point out her use of words. “It sounds odd coming from you.” Desiree rolls her eyes and ignores my comment.

     “You're being ridiculous,” she says and I make a mocking hurt expression. “Look, Andrew, romance is about...” she trails off, looking lost in thought.

     “Romance is about ridiculous cliches that never actually happen in real life,” I finish. “And don't try explaining otherwise. Romance is honestly a barf thing.”

     A mischievous grin lights up Desiree's face. She quickly leans in and kisses me full on the lips. Taken by surprise, I almost topple backwards. Desiree pulls away as soon as came.

     “That,” she says, “is romance.”

     “No,” I protest, “it's you harassing me.” Though I can still feel her lips on mine, I don't say it.

     “Whatever you say,” Desiree says, shrugging. “I think that's romance. We're romance. Also, Con and Ari is romance. And...Drew and Winter...” Her voice becomes a little lower at the mention of Winter's name. But she quickly recovers. “So Andrew,” she says, “if that's not romance, then I don't know what is.”

     Oh I know what it is. But I don't really want to say what's going on in my head right now. Desiree would freak out and avoid me. After all, she doesn't need a boyfriend who can't control himself around her. But I'm perfectly capable of controlling myself, of course. I won't jump on her like a wild animal.

     “Right,” she says, taking my silence as a sign of victory. “Guys will never understand love.”

     “Are you sure?” I say, leaning close to her. She blushes and backs away.

     “Unless,” she adds quickly, “it has something to do with your bottom half.” I scowl and she laughs at my expression. “What?” she asks, “you were asking for it!”

     Just then, the doorbell rings. I hope it's not Chris coming to bother us again. What does he even want from us anyways?

     I don't look outside before I open the door. There's a boy standing there. He's around my age. I'm not sure if he's older or younger than me, but he's shorter than me. He has dark black hair and blue eyes that look like mine.

     “Who is this?” I ask, slightly curious. He kind of looks like me. Not in the 'face almost the same' way but the 'we have the same coloured everything' way. Also, there's something about him that's...too familiar. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about this guy that screams out to me.

     I'm not exactly sure why I feel like this, but I get the feeling that we've met before. Even though I'm pretty sure that we haven't.

     “Oh!” he says quickly, seeming startled. There's something that looks innocent in his eyes that suddenly makes me like him a bit. Unlike my first meeting with Chris... “I'm...ah...” he trails off, looking lost for words. Then he starts to stutter. “I-I-I'm...”

     I cut him off. “Calm down buddy,” I say. “I'm not pointing a gun at you.”

     “Right,” he says, looking extremely relieved for some reason. I'm starting to think that this guy is the nervous type of guy that jumps at everything.

     “Andrew?” Desiree asks, “who is it?”

     She comes to the door to see him and a slight frown starts on her face. “I don't think we know you,” she says. I nod in agreement.

     “I... I, um, I-I'm l-looking f-f-for Winter or s-something,” he stutters, backing away from Desiree like she has some sort of disease.

     “Winter?” I ask, thinking I might have heard wrong. He nods his head vigorously so he looks like a bobble head toy. “I'm sorry,” I say. “But she's not here anymore.”

     “W-what do y-you m-mean?” he stutters. “I thought t-this was h-her house!” He looks utterly confused. I actually feel like laughing at him.

     “This is my house,” I explain. “Not Winter. Nobody named Winter lives in this house.”

     That makes Desiree's frown deepen. “Winter... Are you sure we have the same people in mind?” she asks him. “Or are you thinking of another person named Winter?”

     “I-I d-don't k-know,” he says, his eyes darting from one place to another. He acts like me when I'm high...er...back in ninth grade. I wonder briefly if he's high. But he doesn't look like the kind of person to take drugs. He's just...innocent looking. Maybe a little clueless looking too.

     “Winterlyn Evaline Lawly,” I say, “is that who you're looking for? A girl with black hair? Does that ring any bells?” I'm trying not to show Desiree that I think he's stupid, but I actually can't help it.

     He nods vigorously. “Y-yeah. I t-think.”

     You think? I want to say that, but I'm pretty sure that it would scare him off.

     “You want to know where she is?” Desiree asks, as if he's playing some insecure joke. Maybe he is.

     He nods vigorously again. It looks like his head is going to fall of from all the nodding. “Y-yes, i-if you h-have the t-time to s-spare.”

     I'm about to tell him that Winter's dead, lying in a grave somewhere but Desiree beats me to it.

     “Come with me,” she says, her voice void of emotion. She's glaring at him and he shrinks back.

     “What—” I'm cut off.

     “Grab your keys,” Desiree says. “We're driving him to where Winter lies.”

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Two chapters in a day! :)