11 Paper Hearts (Underlined Paperbacks)

by Kelsey Hartwell

  I stayed in the hot sun as little beads of sweat formed on my neck. I also stayed as people I hadn’t seen since the accident spotted me and ran up for a hug, pressing the sweat on my back into my T-shirt. By noon the sun was miserable—for anyone, but especially for me, since I had one of my splitting headaches. Ashley and I ended up turning around before we reached the other side of the bridge.

  Tonight, I refuse to leave until we find the next paper heart.

  It’s a cold evening, so we’re the only ones out here. There’s a certain calmness to being by the water after dark.

  The sky is pitch-black, but there’s a glow illuminating the bridge. The horizon is just as bright from the city lights. They are tiny distractions from the real lights burning above us—the stars, which we’re here to see. Telescopes are scattered across the bridge so people can look at them more closely.

  If this were a date, it would be the most romantic one I’ve ever been on.

  But it’s just Andy and me bundled up in hats and gloves. When we talk, little puffs of air escape our lips, like they do now as he tells me there are over 100 billion trillion stars. It’s another fun fact that I didn’t know, but it makes me feel so small, walking on this bridge, just the two of us.

  We stop at the first telescope and Andy peers into the lens. I move to inspect it from behind for the next paper heart. Nothing.

  “I thought you’ve read Sherlock Holmes.”

  “I have….”

  “Then why aren’t you doing what he does?”

  I stare at him blankly, with no idea what he’s talking about.

  “You know when Sherlock Holmes enters a room, he doesn’t look for clues, he just looks,” Andy tells me.

  I glare at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Andy laughs. “That you’re just looking for the next clue. I think the point of this is for you to enjoy the view.”

  I cross my arms. “Who said I’m not? I have enjoyed it.”

  “You haven’t even looked into a telescope yet. Come here,” he says, grabbing my arm and moving me in front of him.

  I look down into the lens pointed toward the moon.

  “Wow,” I say.

  Through the lens, the moon isn’t just this shining circle in the distance. It’s close up and real. It almost looks like a ski mountain, with its craters in clear view.

  “That really is incredible.”

  “It is.”

  When I pull back, I realize he’s looking at me, not the moon.

  “You’ve proved your point,” I say. “Are we free to move on to the next telescope?”

  He smiles. “After you.”

  We begin our walk to the next one, in the center of the bridge. The wind is cold against my face and reminds me why nobody else is here. I look at Andy and he doesn’t seem to notice or care. He looks from me to the stars.

  “Want to know another fun fact?”

  I nod, noticing that he’s walking even closer to me now even though we have this entire bridge to ourselves.

  “Have you heard of Neil deGrasse Tyson?”

  “The astrophysicist?” I ask. “My dad’s a science professor. Sometimes I think he might have a man crush on him.”

  Andy laughs. “Yep, that’s him. Hopefully your dad hasn’t told you this one already…but Neil deGrasse Tyson says that we’re made of the same particles that were forged in stars gone supernova.”

  “So what makes that fact fun?” I ask, looking up at the stars.

  “Well, it means that we’re made of stardust and that not only are we in this universe, but the universe is in us.”

  I look back at Andy. His eyes are as bright as the sky, but I don’t tell him that.

  “How’d you learn about this?” I ask.

  He smiles. “I work in a library. I read a lot.”

  I nod. “Well, that’s a fun fact. But maybe not as good as Mark Twain inventing the bra strap.”

  He looks down at me as we reach the next telescope. “Are you always this hard to impress?”

  “Maybe,” I say.

  “What about now?” he says, reaching behind the telescope. I don’t know what he’s doing until he grabs something and hands it to me.

  Another paper heart.

  The next heart is at the peak of winter wonderland.

  I read it once. Then twice. And then a third time. Isn’t there always ice on mountains? At least around here.

  Andy watches me think. “Well, what’s the verdict?”

  The last thing I want is to see his cocky grin when he solves another one before me. Think, Ella. So far, all the clues have led me to a place nearby, so that helps narrow things down.

  And then it clicks—peak could refer to a mountain peak. What about the ice-skating rink at Mohonk Mountain House, where my last Instagram photo was taken? That’s it! But then I frown, realizing how late it is.

  “This next location isn’t open until tomorrow.”

  “Bummer,” he says, but he doesn’t look too bummed. “Well, now that you’re stuck with me, are you going to tell me about these paper hearts? You must have some idea who’s doing this.”

  “I wish I did.” I sigh.

  He raises an eyebrow. “You’re following these hearts and you have no idea where they’re coming from?”

  I bite my lip. “Pretty much.”

  “Interesting” is all he says back. I can’t tell if he believes me or not, but he drops it. When he stares at me again, there’s still a sparkle in his eyes brighter than the lights in the distance.

  I debate telling him everything now. How I was in an accident and I feel like my secret admirer could be leading me to something important. But he looks at me in a way that’s so untainted, like I’m snow at the beginning of December. There’s nothing better. I decide I don’t want that to change, especially since I’ll never see him again after tonight.

  So I don’t share anything else about the paper hearts. In fact, I pretend that’s not why we’re here at all. We’re just two strangers looking up at the stars.

  “Tell me something interesting about you,” I ask.

  He leans on the railing, looking down at the frozen water, then at me.

  “Hmm…you already know I love mysteries. What else can I tell you that doesn’t make me seem like a complete weirdo?…I love going to diners. Not nice diners either. I call those finers—fake diners—because they’re too nice. They buy a lot of old things like records to hang on the walls, but it’s obvious the place is new. I like the diners that look like holes in the wall. Those always have the best fries and milkshakes.”

  I laugh. “So you’re not a fan of finers. Not exactly what I was expecting. Anything else?”

  “I’ve been to Disney World more than ten times.”

  My eyes widen. “How’s that even possible?”

  “I’m a DK.”

  I pause. “Is that another made-up word, like finer?”

  He grins. “See? You’re catching on. DK stands for Divorced Kid. One of the perks of being one is that your parents are in constant competition to be the favorite. Whenever one parent takes me to Disney World, the other one plans a trip shortly after. Originality isn’t exactly their strong point.”

  “But more than ten times?” I ask, still in shock.

  “Yep. If there’s one way to put a damper on the happiest place on earth, it’s letting your child be in the middle of your divorce animosity. They split up when I was six. You’d think they’d be over it by now.”

  “I don’t know, how easy is it to get over someone you thought you’d be with forever?” I ask.

  “Good point, Watson,” he says with a smile, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes.

  I turn to him. “Are you over it?”

  He gives me another small smile. “Fo
r a while I didn’t think I’d be. I mean, if it were up to me, I’d fight tooth and nail before losing the person I love. But yeah, I think I am. In a way, it’s almost easier that my parents can’t stand each other now. There’s no wishing they would get back together or anything.”

  “That’s good,” I say.

  “But on a more positive note, I also like bad scary movies, murder podcasts, and overdone memes.”

  “Those things aren’t really positive….”

  “True. Just seeing if you’re paying attention. But they still all apply. Now, what about you? What’re some things I should know about you?”

  It’s funny how you think you have a ton of things going for you or that you’re interested in, but when you’re asked to name some, all your answers feel super unoriginal. I used to be able to say I was my school’s planning committee chair, but that’s not true anymore so why bring that up?

  “Hmm. I really like hand-lettering,” I answer.

  He looks at me thoughtfully. “What kind of hand-lettering?”

  “Oh, nothing exciting. I mainly just do it in my notebook and I’m not very good yet. Actually, that’s a lie—I’m good, but I know I can be better.”

  “So you’re creative. I like it. What else?” he asks.

  “Well, it’s no Disney World, but my family likes to vacation in the Catskills,” I say.

  “Oh, like Rip Van Winkle? Isn’t that where he falls asleep for years? There’s this copy in the library that looks like it might fall apart soon it’s been read so many times.”

  “Yes! I loved that story when I was younger, but it scared my sister. She was always afraid of going to bed in case she didn’t wake up.”

  “How old is your sister now?”

  “Sixteen. I still think of her as my little sister even though she’s not so little anymore.”

  Andy looks at me. “Okay, what about you? What were you scared of?”

  “Nothing too unusual. I was afraid of sharks after I saw Jaws and didn’t go out too deep in the ocean for a while. But that’s when I was, like, ten.”

  “And before the baby shark song,” Andy says, smiling more. “What’re you afraid of now?”

  A lot of things. Never being able to get over missing those eleven weeks. Driving in the snow. Driving, period. But what am I afraid of that I actually want to tell him?

  “It’s okay, Ella. I’m not a shark, but we can stick to shallow waters for now.”

  He then asks me easier questions. What’s my favorite color? I say teal. When he asks about my favorite food, I tell him about my family’s taco night. When he asks about my pet peeves, I tell him that I don’t like spoilers in Goodreads reviews, when adults play teens in TV shows, or the fact that the word pet is in the phrase pet peeves in the first place, which he declares the most unusual answer he’s ever heard. He then proceeds to ask me what the quirkiest thing about me is, and I say probably the fact that I make lists all the time. But he tells me that isn’t that quirky, so I tell him maybe I’m not as quirky as he thinks. Andy just shakes his head like he knows I am.

  Then we talk about our guilty pleasures, or kryptonite, as Andy calls it.

  He tells me he has a huge sneaker collection—so many that he bets he has more shoes than me, but I’m not quite sure I buy that, between all the shoes I share with Ashley.

  As we walk and talk, we take turns looking into the telescopes from different angles on the bridge until I can barely feel my face from both smiling and the cold. Eventually, we have to rush back to the car for warmth. Once we’re inside, Andy blasts the heat for us as we sit in the parking lot. It’s only when our fingertips start to warm up that I finally check my phone.

  There’s a series of frantic texts from Carmen.

  When are you leaving?

  UM ETA PLEASE. I’m fashionably late and you’re even later.

  Get your butt over here!!!

  It’s the second quarter. Where are you?

  This isn’t funny Ella…

  I texted Ashley. She said you’re not coming?

  Seriously.

  Two from Pete that made me feel even guiltier.

  Of course we can talk.

  Did you decide not to come? I haven’t seen you all night. Carmen seems pissed by the way. I just ran into her.

  And one from Ashley

  Let me know when you want us to come get you.

  I only respond to that one for now, my fingers still needing to thaw from the cold.

  Can you come in 10 minutes?

  She types back immediately.

  Sounds good! See you soon!

  I turn to Andy. “We need to get back now.”

  Andy looks to me. “Even Cinderella gets to stay out until midnight. In the movie and the original Brothers Grimm version.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d never dare sneak out of the house like her, and my curfew is at eleven. Plus, my sister is picking me up soon.”

  “Where is she coming from?”

  “I don’t know, I think some concert with her boyfriend.”

  “Concert? Why didn’t you go with them?”

  I shrug. “A bunch of reasons. The main one is these paper hearts.”

  “You could’ve easily found these tomorrow.”

  Of course he thought I should be going to a concert over chasing paper hearts, but he doesn’t know how urgent this is for me. Again I think to tell him but wind up saying something else.

  “Well, I’m not exactly spontaneous like my sister.”

  “So you’re telling me you never bend curfew? What does that mean? You’re a good girl? A Goody Two-shoes? A brownnoser?”

  “Coming from the boy who works at a library,” I quip.

  “Touché. Never judge a book by its cover. What’s your reasoning then?”

  “I just don’t really fit into my sister’s scene.”

  “What kind of scene is that? Have you never been to a concert before?”

  “Of course I have. Just not this kind of concert,” I say, not knowing how to explain it.

  “Fair enough. Unless you were going to a T Swift concert, they would definitely kick you out with that shirt you have on.”

  I realize he can see my long-sleeved T-shirt thanks to my half-zipped jacket.

  “What’s wrong with this shirt?” I ask.

  All he does is smirk. “I Have More Spirit Than You? You’re asking to be the next viral meme.”

  “What happened to not judging a book by its cover? Anyway, I was supposed to be going to a basketball game. It would’ve been more than appropriate for that.”

  “So you went rogue and I’m an accomplice?”

  I nod. “Pretty much.”

  “Well then, this sounds like a pretty spontaneous night for you after all. You’re giving your sister a run for her money.”

  I smile. “I hadn’t thought about that, but yeah, I guess so.”

  Andy doesn’t say anything after that, but he starts the ignition and pulls out of the parking lot. Once we are on the road, he presses his foot harder on the pedal and drives faster. I can’t see the exact speed on his dashboard, but I can tell by the way the signs on the road are blurred. Suddenly, I feel my heart racing and I close my eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say. “It just feels like we’re going really fast.”

  He takes his foot off the gas. “Sorry. I thought you wanted us to beat them there.”

  He wasn’t wrong. I did. I feel the need to explain myself, but it’s nearly impossible without explaining my accident. Before I can say anything, he eases up on the pedal and looks at me. “We can go slow.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “So what’s considered slow for a second date? Dinner?” He winks at me.
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br />   I roll my eyes, because I highly doubt I’ll ever see him again. Sure, it was nice of him to drive me tonight, and a couple days ago I would have loved to meet a new boy that I haven’t gone to school with since I was twelve—but now I have a scavenger hunt to follow. “This wasn’t a date,” I correct him.

  “I know. You think I’d believe a girl like you would ever go out with a guy like me?” he says in a way that makes me unexpectedly blush.

  I can’t start looking for the next paper heart until tomorrow, but in that moment, I’m sad that the night is going to end.

  * * *

  As Steve drives me and Ashley home, I can’t stop thinking about the paper hearts. I wonder who is sending them to me. Why do they want to stay anonymous, and why now? I don’t know a lot of things, but the one thing I do know: I can’t stop smiling the whole way home.

  “Must have been a good book,” my sister says, eyeing me suspiciously.

  Chapter 8

  Before bed I search for a fresh notebook I’ve been saving for Something Important. This definitely qualifies.

  Once I have it, I crawl into bed and begin scribbling down the list of possibilities for my mystery admirer. It has to be someone who knows me well—or at least well enough that they knew what I did last February. Whoever it was also must be thoughtful and caring and a good planner, like me, to carry this out.

  Pete—My first real boyfriend. But why would he try to help me after I broke his heart?

  Adam—My first crush. I have no reason to include him other than wishful thinking.

  Carmen???—A scavenger hunt has Carmen written all over it. But she seemed exceptionally mad at me tonight when I skipped the game. She didn’t even send a hundred sad faces. When I finally told her I didn’t feel like going all she responded was K.

  Someone who really is just a secret admirer—Welp, that could be anybody.

  I stare at my list over and over again, almost like if I do, the right answer will magically appear. Right now my heart wants the admirer to be a boy, but my gut says Carmen.

  There have been other times, though, that I can’t forget—like when we both got admission emails to our dream school, Columbia. I got in early decision, and when she found out she was wait-listed, I was immediately worried she was going to be devastated—but she acted like she was over it in minutes. Whatever, I don’t even care if I don’t get in. I’ll have way more fun at NYU, she declared, which could be completely true.