I was up most of last night thinking about you. Yesterday, I was feeling pretty negative about everything. Jealous and hopeless and just generally depressed. But then I thought about it for awhile... it's strange how lying awake at three a.m. can clear things up for you. And I thought, this is about love, and love is supposed to be a good thing, right? So why am I beating myself up over it?
Love.
Ross read the fourth note with a mixture of curiousity, anticipation, and hesitation. Things were getting increasingly complicated. He was still no closer to knowing who this girl was, and she didn't seem to be offering many clues.
But she loved him. This mystery girl loved him.
He didn't know what to think. How could he figure out what to feel when all he had to base it on were these typed words on lacy stationary? How could he make anything concrete when it all seemed so illusive?
All he knew is that the notes were awakening feelings in him that didn't have anything to do with a mystery. They had to do with reality, too much reality, reality he had to face every day.
This is about love... It was about love. It was
about knowing, about realizing that whatever this secret admirer was
feeling for him, he was feeling the same thing about someone else.
Someone out there who knew even less about his feelings than he did
about this letter-writer's.
Here's another clue - we seem different, but I think we're
more alike than we give ourselves credit for. Sometimes I think you
can read my mind. Everyone says opposites attract. We are opposites
in some ways, but in other ways, we think strangely alike.
"Gee, big clue." He shook his head. It could still be
anyone. Anyone. Who knows, maybe Melissa thought they were
alike. Any girl out there who'd spoken a few words to him could come
to that conclusion. He needed something more solid, something that
would help him sort the possiblities, something that would give him
evidence to go on...
Something that would divert his attention from thinking of
Her. God, what would she say if she knew? He thought about
her possible reaction and couldn't help but crack a smile. Every
time he tried to picture telling her, the image of her in his mind
would start yelling at him before he'd finished, asking him if he'd
gone totally insane, and then stalk off. Not exactly the picture of
the perfect romantic confession, but that was Julie for ya.
I never thought of myself as the Valentine's type. I mean,
if most people who knew me found out I was doing something
like this, they wouldn't believe it. I can barely believe it
myself. But when you're feeling the way I am now, everything
changes. Everything.
He realized that he was nodding in agreement as he read. He
understood perfectly what his admirer meant. Love... feelings...
secrets. They did change everything, for better or for
worse.
Focus. He had to focus. He wasn't supposed to be
contemplating the meaning of love; he was supposed to be
trying to figure out who this girl was. He had to stop allowing his
mind to drift. He had to stop thinking of Her and think of her
instead...
Note #4 joined the other three envelopes in his skating
bag.
It was time for some more sleuthing.
"Woo hoo hoo, it's all been done/Woo hoo hoo, it's all been done/Woo hoo hoo, it's all been do-one befoooore..."
Julie rolled over in bed and blinked groggily as the Barenaked Ladies jolted her awake via her clock radio. She peered at the clock. 9:45 a.m. She'd slept in, but luckily, they didn't have practice 'til noon.
"This staying awake 'til three a.m. stuff is not good for my health," she mumbled as she drowsily made her way to the bathroom.
But what can I do? she thought as she brushed her teeth. What could she do if she couldn't sleep at nights because her head was full of thoughts of Him? What could she do when jealousy, hopelessness, desire and longing swept through her in a tangled and contradictory onslaught of emotion that wouldn't let her sleep? What could she do when there was a certain errand she could only run very early in the morning... or very late at night?
No big deal, she tried to convince herself. I'll live. But another side of her head had a different message for her...
Julianne Torrance, you're doing this all to yourself, it scolded her. You're letting your heart run away with you. You're such a romantic fool...
"I am not a romantic fool!" she suddenly exclaimed out loud. She was startled by the fierce defensiveness in her own voice.
The faint strain of the radio filled the silence left by her echo as she sat at her kitchen table and tried to collect her thoughts.
"Inside my skin, there is this space..." Jewel sang as the music filtered through Julie's headspace. "It twists and turns/It bleeds and aches..."
Love songs, again. Julie sighed. They were all beginning to seem like the story of her life...
"Inside my heart/There's an empty room/It's waiting for lightening/It's waiting for you..."
She was empty. She was waiting.
Waiting for Him.
She got up, turned the radio off, and switched on her computer. She would continue to wait, but not idly. She had to do something to fill the space inside of her.
She sat down and started to write.
"Where in God's name is Ross?" Julie skated over to the boards and peered out towards the left entrance. "He should've been here fifteen minutes ago."
"He will come, do not worry. Continue with warmup," her coach directed reassuringly.
"But he's never late! I'm the one who's usually late!" she fretted, tugging at the bottom of her long shirt.
"I'm here!" Ross suddenly called, running into the rink with his bag thrown over his shoulder. "I know, I'm late, I'm sorry, I completely lost track of time."
"Is okay." Marina laughed. "Go, get skates on, join Julianne."
"Where were you?" Julie called after him.
"Uhhh... I'll tell you later," he replied, nodding discreetly towards their coach.
He'd tell her later? Julie was immediately suspicious. What was her partner up to? Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Marina watching her. Skate. Right. She had to skate. Trying to clear her mind, she continued her warmup.
Her partner joined her a few minutes later and fell into stroke beside her.
"So, where were you?" she asked again, her curiousity getting the better of her.
"Later, Julie." He winked and took off, skating faster. "I told you, later."
Argh. Julie's mind registered the thought before she could stop it. He was so damn annoying sometimes... She picked up speed, trying to catch up to him.
"Why later?" she questioned as she grabbed his hand, not wanting him to get away again.
"Because we have to skate," he said with a mischevious look in his eyes. "C'mon, Jules, you can wait awhile."
"Honestly, Ross, you are so exasperating!" she exclaimed, trying to keep her frustration hidden. "See if I tell you anything the next time I figure something out."
"Ross, Julianne, less talking, more skating!" their coach called, noting their lack of focus.
"See?" Ross turned towards her and grinned. "Less talking, more skating."
"I heard." She couldn't help but smile back. "Okay, okay... let's skate."
Where had he been? Where could he have been? Once again, Julie's mind was full of questions. She ran a brush through her hair and gave herself a once-over in the dressing room mirror. Okay, whatever, she looked fine, great. Time to get out there before her partner ran off without telling her...
"Whoa!" Ross caught her as she came barelling through the door just as he was about to knock. "Where's the fire?"
"You're still here," she said, relieved and slightly embarrassed at having been caught rushing towards him. "I, um, I have a lot of stuff to do. I was gonna leave..."
"Don't you want to know where I was?" he asked. "I mean, you certainly seemed curious awhile ago..."
"Okay, so where were you?" she questioned, glad to have an excuse to ask again. "Are you going to tell me, or are you just going to keep hinting?"
"I was at the grocery store again," he confessed. She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand to hush her. "Don't say anything yet... just listen."
"But you..." she started.
"C'mon, Julie," he cut her off. "Just listen. Anyhow, I went in again, and I was buying some more fruit..."
"Again?" She couldn't help interjecting. "Don't you think she'd find that kind of weird?"
"No, listen!" he exclaimed. "I was buying fruit for you."
"Huh?" She was confused. "For me?"
"Well, I said it was for you," he explained. "I said you were sick, you couldn't get out, so I was shopping for you..."
"You said what?!" she said indignantly. "You mean you used me as an excuse to go in there and..."
"Julie, listen!" He laughed. "Can't you go without interrupting me for two seconds?"
"Okay, whatever, keep going." She tried to stay quiet, but she was growing increasingly agitated inside. He'd gone back? He'd spoken to her again? She hadn't been there to keep an eye on him this time... who knows what could've happened?
"Anyhow, I told her you were sick - so by the way, I'd stay out of the grocery store for at least a day just in case..."
Julie had to restrain herself to keep from objecting violently.
"...and then I was going to my car, and I saw her coming out," he went on. "Her shift was over, so I offered her a ride home.
"You did what?!" She inadvertently spoke her thoughts out loud.
"I gave her a ride home," Ross repeated. "And Julie, did you know that her father was an Olympic silver medallist?"
"How would I know that?" she asked. "I mean, you're the one who seems to have this big friendship going with her..."
Her partner rolled his eyes. "Big friendship, whatever. I gave the girl a ride home. I still barely know her. Anyhow, yeah, her dad was on the Norwegian bobsledding team in the '76 Games. That's why they live here... he coaches."
"Will you cut with the family history and get on with it?" Julie asked impatiently. "I mean, did you find out anything that would make you think she was the letter-writer?"
"Oh... not really," he finally replied. "I don't know, I guess it could be her."
Julie felt like screaming.
"You mean, you spent all this time with her, you gave her a ride home, you talked to her long enough to find out her family history, and you still aren't any more sure of it being her or not being her than you were yesterday?" She gave him a look.
"I tried," he defended himself. "But what was I supposed to do? 'Say, Melissa, write any secret admirer notes lately?' I don't think so, Julie."
"It's not rocket science, Sherlock." She whacked him with her bag. "C'mon, all you had to do was throw in a few hints... ask her a few questions... find out if she has a boyfriend, maybe? Ever thought of that?"
"I'm not good at that kind of stuff!" he protested. "That's why I asked you to help."
She sighed, relenting. "Okay, maybe I'll try talking to her myself. I mean, since you're such a hopeless case..."
"You haven't figured out much on your own, Watson," he retorted. "I don't see you giving me any big revelations."
"It's not my mystery," she laughed. "And you haven't even shown me all the notes yet! Are they still coming?"
"Uh huh." He pulled them out of his bag. "Can your errands wait a bit?"
"Yeah," she decided. "They can wait. I really need some caffeine."
"Wanna go for coffee?" he asked. "Then you can look over the notes, and maybe we can do some more detective work."
"You're so desperate it's almost funny." She smiled and followed him outside.
"Oh, shut up!" he responded as they headed to their cars.
"Why should I?" she called laughingly as they separated.
"Because!" he tossed back over his shoulder.
"Cheater!" she teased. "That's not a real answer!"
"Whatever... just drive, okay?"
"Okay, okay." Julie's eyes sparkled as she looked into the rearview mirror. Suddenly, her jealousy seemed to have disappeared.
Forget Melissa. Things were gonna be just fine.
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