11 Paper Hearts (Underlined Paperbacks)

by Kelsey Hartwell

  Say something to make this better, I think.

  My eyes find Ashley’s in the rearview mirror. She shrugs at me as if to say what’s going on with you two? I haven’t told her Carmen’s mad at me, but it’s blatantly obvious now. Her lips are pressed together in a straight line. The music is off. The only sound comes from her jagged fingernails tapping on the steering wheel.

  “Carmen—” I start, but she cuts me short.

  “You know, the last time you started acting like this was right before the accident.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. “What…what do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. Saying you’ll do something and then completely bailing last second without a good reason. Wanting to do things without me and acting all innocent about it after. Were you even thinking about me at all when you decided not to come to the game?”

  I open my mouth, but suddenly it feels dry, like cereal without milk, and instead of words coming out, my lips just form an O like a Cheerio.

  “Exactly,” Carmen says, shaking her head. “Did you think about Pete either? He told me you texted him too. He was worried that you stopped responding and never showed up. We both were worried,” she says, gripping the steering wheel tight. When we come to a red light, she turns to me. There’s a glimmer in her eye.

  “Sometimes it’s like you don’t even think about what we went through after the accident.”

  That’s not fair! my brain screams. I think about the accident all the time. But do I think about what other people went through? Maybe not enough.

  Carmen’s words are laced with pain, and after she says them it feels like the little string in me that was tying everything together is suddenly undone. I sit in the passenger seat silent, in shame. I can’t even bring myself to look in the rearview mirror at Ashley, who probably feels the same exact way as Carmen.

  The light turns green and Carmen starts to drive again, but I still feel like my body is in slow motion.

  “You can’t go radio silent like that, El,” Carmen says, more gently now. “Especially not to me and Pete. We were by your side during the absolute worst….We can’t bear to do that again.”

  My cheeks flame. They were worried I’d been in another accident—no wonder Carmen is upset with me. I didn’t even think about that when I decided not to go to the game.

  “I’m sorry for bailing,” I say. “I wasn’t feeling up to it, but I should’ve let you know that. I’ll apologize to Pete today too.”

  “Good” is all Carmen says back, but I let out a sigh of relief. This is a million times worse than the time I revealed her crush in eighth grade, but we’re still best friends and she’ll get over this.

  One thing is for sure, though: I can cross Carmen off my list of suspects.

  Now I really need to talk to Pete.

  * * *

  As soon as we all walk inside, I head toward Pete’s locker instead of my own. Carmen and Ashley nod at me like they know what I’m doing, but that isn’t possible, because I don’t even know what I’m doing. Last Friday, I would’ve asked him about three things under my floorboard, but now I have this urgent desire to make things right. Also, if Carmen isn’t my secret admirer, it seems more likely that Pete is.

  When I turn the corner toward Pete’s locker, my stomach drops. He’s surrounded by a crowd of people—other basketball players and girls with perfect blowouts I don’t recognize. This is why you should always plan things, I scold myself.

  I’m about to turn around when he spots me above a brunette girl’s head. He raises his hand immediately and waves.

  I give him a small wave back, and that’s all he needs. He excuses himself from the group and walks over to me.

  “Hey!” he says with a wide smile when he reaches me. “I didn’t see you at the game the other night. You said you wanted to talk afterward….”

  “Yeah,” I mutter, still ashamed from what Carmen told me. “I’m really sorry about that.”

  “No worries. Hey, where are you headed? I’ll walk with you.”

  “My locker.”

  “Great.” He smiles widely again. I wonder if he realizes this wasn’t the way to my locker at all. I feel my cheeks redden and I turn back around the same way I came. He follows, not once looking back at the group he left behind. It reminds me of why I felt so special being his girlfriend—when he’s with you, all his focus is on you, like nothing else matters.

  “How’s basketball going?” I ask, realizing how easy it is to fall back into conversation with someone you know.

  “It’s going great. We won on Friday. Now we have a bye week until playoffs.”

  “That’s huge,” I say.

  “Yeah,” he continues. “So since I don’t have a game this Friday, I was thinking of going to the Hudson Valley Orchard for hot apple cider and donuts. My sister has been talking about it nonstop.”

  “Oh yeah. I love it there in the winter.”

  Barns aren’t normally my thing, even though my town has a ton of them. They smell like rotting hay in the thick of summertime and are overcrowded with tourists picking apples in the fall. But in the winter, people in town go for the live music and food.

  “Would you want to go with me?” he asks quickly. It catches me off guard. Last year we never went on a real date. The most we did was hang out with Carmen and other guys from his team. There was that one time we went to the movies when his mom dropped us off and it almost felt like a real date until mine picked us up again. Pete always talked about where he’d want to take me when he could finally drive us places, but his birthday is in May, so we never got the chance. Now he drives a black Audi, and when girls from the bus see it pulling up into the parking lot, they pull down the windows to wave at him. Plenty of them would love to go on a date with Pete. Why doesn’t he ask one of them?

  I look up at him and he meets my eyes, anxiously awaiting my answer. Maybe one-on-one time is long overdue. I thought you were in love, I remember Sydney saying as she did my nails.

  “Sure,” I say as we reach my locker. “What time?”

  “How about seven? I can pick you up.”

  I nod. “Sounds great.”

  “Good,” he says, smiling. “Well, I have to get to class. Mrs. D said if I’m late one more time she’ll tell my coach. But I’m looking forward to Friday.”

  “Me too.”

  He smiles again and I stare at him in amazement as he walks away. What just happened? The last thing I expected was for him to ask me out on a date.

  I turn to my locker and fiddle with the lock. Eventually, I get the numbers right and when I open the door, I can’t believe my luck.

  There’s another paper heart.

  I used to think people who gasp were faking it. But I gasp on the spot.

  I clutch the paper heart to my real one before opening it.

  See a castle from a view as beautiful as you

  6

  “Whoa, watercolors! I wish I’d thought of that!” a voice says behind me. I spin around and it’s Sarah Chang.

  “Me too,” I say as she starts digging in her tote bag. She must have paper hearts for me.

  “But I’m sure the ones in here are equally impressive in their own right. You have a bunch more paper hearts—hold on.”

  Soon she pulls out a small stack, and as I accept them, I put the watercolored one on top so it doesn’t get lost in the pile.

  I’m curious about whether she’s received my paper heart yet, but I can’t exactly ask without giving myself away. “So what made you switch from treasurer to planning committee this year?” I ask instead.

  Her eyes search me for a second, like she’s wondering why I’m talking to her. “To be honest, I spent the first three years of high school pretending I could avoid it.” She shrugs. “So, I made it a goal of mine to actually participate in sch
ool functions this year. You know, get the whole experience in before it’s over. I figured if I was going to do that, I might as well make it fun.”

  For a second, I wonder if she’s going to ask me why I quit, but she doesn’t. She must be too polite for that—just another reason to feel bad that my friends were mean to her.

  “How many more hearts do you have to pass out? Do you need help?”

  She shakes her head. “Normally, I play Roblox in between periods. This is giving me something better to do.”

  “Well, not if you were playing Rockefeller Street.”

  “I mean, obviously that’s my game of choice.” She laughs. “But I can sacrifice some Roblox time for this. I actually enjoy seeing people’s faces when I hand them paper hearts. It’s like I’m Santa with my tote bag.”

  “Or Cupid,” I say.

  “Yeah, that would make a lot more sense, wouldn’t it?”

  I notice her tote bag is different from the last one I saw. This one says guac is extra but so are you. I’m about to ask her where it’s from because I like it so much, when I see her looking around like she’s worried who might see us together.

  “Well, this Cupid is off to make more end games happen. See you around.”

  “Oh, okay…bye,” I say, stuffing the paper hearts in my backpack.

  All but my watercolored paper heart.

  Chapter 12

  “I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Pete!” Carmen squeals louder than the time she did when he wrote Love, Pete on my birthday card. I thought things might be awkward between us after the ride to school this morning, but I was so wrong. Not when I have the kind of gossip that she’s been waiting for. We’re in her car, and she’s hanging on my every word.

  “Let’s not make a big deal of this. It’s just a date….” I trail off.

  “Too late,” she says. “This is a very big deal. I knew he’d want you back. You guys are perfect for each other.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I say. “I did break up with him last year, after all. But it feels like it can be different this time.”

  She looks at me. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. He just seems changed.”

  “Changed how?” Carmen asks, eyeing me.

  “I don’t know exactly. I guess I’m just excited we’re going out on Friday. We never used to do that sort of thing.”

  She nods. “He’s definitely trying to impress you. This is good.”

  I realize I’m leaving out the whole paper hearts part. That’s what makes him the most different—if it’s him. It could still very well be Carmen, but either way I’m keeping my mouth shut as we continue to drive. She’s taking me to the library to drop my book off before heading home.

  The last paper heart is still on my mind. See a castle from a view as beautiful as you. I’ve been thinking about what it could mean all day and I still have no idea. There’s also a number 6 underneath…or maybe it’s a 9.

  I want to check the paper heart again, but I feel guilty even thinking about this now. I haven’t been able to forget what Carmen said to me about being a bad friend. In a way, it’s almost as haunting as the accident itself. Can you truly apologize for your behavior if you don’t remember it?

  “So how are things with Anthony?” I ask.

  She keeps her eyes on the road. A small smile escapes her lips. “Perfect.”

  The rest of the ride I happily talk about Anthony and Carmen instead of me and Pete. She completely gushes about Anthony, and Carmen never gushes. In fact, I’m normally the one with a crush, and she’s the one who finds something wrong with pretty much everybody. Tons of boys have liked her, but she always has some excuse: Too short. Gross. Or, if they’re neither of those things: he seems like he likes me a little too much, you know? And the truth is no, I don’t.

  Sometimes I think she gets these phrases from her mom. I’ll always remember when Carmen found out her parents were getting divorced at the end of sixth grade. One day her dad just got up and left them. Carmen was devastated. To be honest, I don’t know if she ever got over it.

  Now Carmen’s always trying to help her mom find the right guys. She goes through her mom’s online profile. She says that even the ones who look good online end up being total duds on the actual date, which is a shame because I love her mom and she deserves the best man ever. Sometimes I wonder if she’s just afraid of getting hurt, though, and writes people off. Carmen used to tell me stories of how she’d hear her mom crying at night, but when she asked her, she’d deny it. Carmen’s like that too. When she’s upset, she keeps it all bottled up. The only way I can ever tell something is going on is when her face gives her away. Just like her eyes give it away when she’s lying, her lips give it away when she’s upset. She presses them together like she did earlier, so tight it’s like she’s trying to press all the emotion out of her.

  When people ask about my accident in front of her or talk about the dance, it looks like she has no lips at all. At least her expressions make it obvious. People shut up immediately. One time when I was binge-watching Law & Order, I decided that Carmen would make a good interrogator.

  But the way Carmen’s looking right now makes me happy. I can see in her eyes that she’s genuinely happy. I’ve known Anthony since middle school. I know that he laughs at his own jokes and that he always gives the wrong answer when he’s called on in calculus, and sometimes after gym class the amount of Axe he puts on makes me dizzy. But Carmen knows these things too, and if she still thinks he’s perfect, I’m thrilled for her.

  She tells me how they sat next to each other at the diner after the game. How he finally kissed her when they got outside. How she can’t wait until they kiss again. Her excitement is contagious—I want to want someone like that. The memory of Sydney telling me I was in love pops into my mind. Maybe you did feel that way before.

  When we finally park at the library, Carmen checks her phone immediately. There’s already a new text from Anthony. Whatever it says makes Carmen smile. She starts replying instantly. Apparently, they’re already over the playing-hard-to-get stage.

  I laugh. “You can stay here. I’ll be quick.”

  “Sounds good,” she says without even looking up from her phone.

  I slide out of the car and make my way to the library, with Pride and Prejudice in my bag. But once I’m inside, I see Sarah at the front desk, not Andy. I linger at the doorway for a second with a feeling I can’t explain. Am I disappointed? Andy must be growing on me.

  Sarah’s smile is wide as she helps an elderly lady check out. When she’s done, she looks up and sees me at the doorway. I awkwardly wave, and as she waves back I wonder if she got my heart yet—until Andy suddenly pops out from behind a stack of books, a dimpled grin on his face.

  “I knew you’d come by to see me,” he says with a wink.

  “Yes, this has nothing to do with the fact that I finished my library book,” I deadpan.

  “Well, you read this very quickly,” he says as we walk toward the drop-off bin. “Either you’re a super-quick reader or you were dying to see me.”

  “I am a fast reader, thank you very much,” I say as we reach the bin. I open my backpack. Normally, I’m the girl who is organized to the max. I color-code my binders and secretly keep my textbooks in alphabetical order. But my backpack might be as messy as my life right now. I dig inside, searching for the book among all my binders and folders for school. Once I pull it out, the loose paper heart underneath falls out. I reach for the heart, but it’s too late.

  “Still chasing paper hearts, I see,” Andy says, picking it up before I can.

  There’s no point lying now.

  “Yeah. I’m stuck on this one, though,” I admit. “I have no idea what it means.”

  He looks at me, and for a second I hope he asks to help again. But he doesn’t
.

  “So you still have no idea who’s sending these?”

  I drop the book in the bin with a heavy thud. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be that loud.”

  “Don’t try to get out of this question,” he says, grinning again. “You do have a theory, don’t you?”

  I do, and I feel my cheeks get warm as I think about Pete.

  “There’s one person I think it could be. But I’ll have a better idea on Friday.”

  “Mysterious answer. Why on Friday?” he asks.

  “Because we’re going out on a date.”

  He looks down at his feet and then back up at me. “A date? Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “His name is Pete,” I answer honestly. It’s not like we go to the same school, so his name won’t mean anything.

  Andy squints at me. “And why do you think your mystery admirer is basketball star Pete Yearling?”

  Welp. I guess I was wrong about him not knowing who Pete is.

  “Well, for starters, he’s my ex-boyfriend—” I begin, but he stops me.

  “Why would an ex-boyfriend be sending you letters? I’m not a cook, but getting back with an ex is like reheating a soufflé, don’t you think?”

  Even though his words have a hint of humor to them, there’s irritation in his eyes—but I’m irritated too.

  “No.” I cross my arms. “If he’s been sending me these hearts, it’s romantic.”

  “I don’t know.” He shakes his head hard. He isn’t just disagreeing with me—it’s like he’s trying to wipe the idea of me going on a date with someone else out of his mind. “Are you going to ask Pete if it’s him?”

  “I don’t want to ruin the surprise. I’m just going to see if he drops any hints.”

  He grimaces. “Seems like you have become a detective after all. I get why you kicked me off the case now.”