I sigh. Of course he wants to know why. He’s Pete Yearling. He always gets what he wants. But now the one thing he wants is me, and even I don’t know why I don’t want him back. So that’s what I tell him.
“I don’t know,” I start to say. “It’s not you at all. It’s me and all the stupid thoughts that go in my head. When we’re together, all I can think about is why I’m not happier. You’re so sweet and so perfect, but I just…can’t bring myself to feel—”
“The same way that I feel about you.”
I pause. “How did you know I was going to say that?”
For a moment, there are tears shining in his eyes, but he brushes them away. “Because that’s exactly what you told me before the accident. Right before you told me your heart just wasn’t in it.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, because there’s nothing else I can say.
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to be….I should go. Sorry for bothering you.”
“You don’t have to be,” I say, repeating his words.
The tears in his eyes are back and I feel like I should hug him or something, but he quickly turns and heads out the door. As it shuts, Ashley returns to the room. I can’t tell if she’s been listening the whole time. Before I can ask, she looks at me. “Now there’s someone else you need to talk to.”
* * *
We drive to the library, my unopened paper heart tucked into my jean pocket. Whether it’s from Pete or someone else doesn’t seem to matter now. What matters is talking to Andy.
But what exactly am I going to say?
Obviously, that I enjoyed spending time with him, but what else? If he’s already talking to Sarah, it won’t matter. It’ll be too late. Andy and Sarah actually have stuff in common. They both work at the library, love books, and more than that, love being right. They wouldn’t exactly be a random couple. Maybe they’d even be a good one. I sigh.
Why was I even going to go talk to him, again?
“We should turn around,” I say to Ashley in the driver seat.
“Why?” she snaps.
“Because I want to. And you have to listen to me. I don’t question your decisions with Steve.”
“See, you always bring Steve into it,” Ashley says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not getting into it but if you don’t go to the library, you’re a big baby.”
“I’m fine with that,” I say automatically. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to fall in love, not chase it?”
“You’re not chasing him. You’re telling him that you enjoy spending time with him in case there was some sort of misunderstanding.”
I take in a deep breath. “Okay. I can do that.”
“Of course you can.”
“Of course I can,” I repeat, but I know I don’t believe it. “Maybe I can just ask him to go on my next paper heart hunt with me?” I ask as we’re pulling into the library parking lot.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Ashley says. “If he says no, you’ll have your answer.”
I gulp. She’s right. If Andy says no, it means he and Sarah are practically dating and he feels guilty. Or even worse, he has no real reason and just doesn’t want to.
It would hurt either way.
“You’ve got this,” Ashley says.
I’m not so sure. All I’ve got is some major things happening to my stomach…and it’s not butterflies. Why am I so nervous? I shake my head. I just have to play it cool. For all he knows, I’m still totally invested in these paper hearts.
“A hug for good luck,” Ashley says, grabbing me and pulling me into her big puffer jacket. It makes me smile. My mom used to do that on mornings when we missed our bus and had to get dropped off at school. Normally, it was because something stressful had happened to ruin the morning routine—one of us had forgotten to do our homework or spilled OJ all over our clothes, or some other equally chaotic mess-up. Mom always knew when I was already feeling frazzled to take a deep breath and give me a tight little hug. It lasted only a few seconds, but it always stopped time for me, and her squeezing me would squeeze out all my stress.
Now I realize that Ashley inherited that talent. When she releases me, I’m ready to take on the world, or at least walk into the library without crumbling.
I slide out of the car and make my way to the door quickly before I lose my confidence again.
But when I walk inside, I’m instantly deflated, because I forgot the one worst possible thing that could happen.
Sarah’s alone at the front desk.
My instinct is to run back to the car, but she looks up and waves. I almost have to do a double take. Is she really waving at me? I guess going to the same cooking class makes us friends now, or at least classmates that say hi.
I reluctantly walk over to her. After all, it’s not her fault if Andy likes her.
“Hey,” I say when I reach the desk. “Is Andy around?”
“No, I haven’t seen him,” she starts to say. “He should be here soon to start his shift. Want me to text him?”
“No, that’s okay!” I say quickly. “I was just wondering. I’m going to browse a little. Did you have fun at the class?” I ask. Hopefully, I can stomach the answer.
“Yes! It was so much fun. But Andy can make anything fun, ya know?”
“Yeah, I do,” I say. That’s what I came here to tell him, but you said it better than me. “It looked like you two were really hitting it off.”
I cringe at that last part. It came off way more jealous than I intended. But Sarah doesn’t seem to notice.
“Yeah, I’m so glad he invited me.”
You can’t be mad, Ella, I think. You could’ve invited him and you didn’t.
“Did you have fun?” she asks me now. “Oh, and did you guys end up winning? You put our chocolate balls to shame.”
Her voice is genuine. It makes me wonder why.
“Sarah, can I ask you why you’re nice to me? My friends are such jerks to you.”
She shrugs. “You’re not.”
“Yeah, but…I should make them stop.”
She looks at me thoughtfully. “People change, but you can’t change people.”
I nod like I understand, but really, I don’t understand how Sarah can be so forgiving.
“But…” I trail off.
“I get it—really. I’ve had friends like Carmen. Maybe not quite so…intense,” she says, making me laugh. “But once I let them go, I found that being myself was never so easy.”
“Really? I can’t imagine you struggling with that.”
I think back to the paper heart I wrote to her. How I love the way she dresses with her own style, not the typical ensemble you’d see on Instagram. How she answers all the questions in English because she loves books and she doesn’t care if people think she’s a know-it-all. It really is hard to believe there was a time when she wasn’t like that.
“I mean, that was freshman year. Plenty of confidence boosting had to happen. Oh, and I discovered Mary Oliver—she got me through some stuff. You should check her out sometime.”
“ ‘Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?’ ” I say, quoting one of her poems. It’s one of my favorite quotes; I have it in a frame above the desk in my bedroom. I’ve also written it in my notebook more than I’d like to admit.
She smiles. “See? You don’t need my advice when you have Mary.”
“Well, thank you anyway. Really.”
“Don’t mention it,” she says, turning to the computer on her desk. I spin around, heading toward the romance section of the library. I can’t help but feel like I should just leave.
If Sarah were mean to me, I could think that Andy deserves better. But if she’s actually nice and can talk books with him and the two of them have fun together, then…
But I don’t
get to finish my thought, because in walks Andy. Through the space in the bookshelves I can see him saunter over to the front desk. I brace myself for Andy to do something flirty with Sarah. Maybe hug her when he sees her, or something worse. But when he reaches her, she says something to him and he spins around in my direction. It’s not like I’m trying to hide, but I instinctively duck lower so he can’t see me behind the shelf. I stand there crouched all frozen, hoping he didn’t see me watching them. How embarrassing would that be?
But moments later I hear a voice.
“Ella?”
It’s Andy. Now, this is more than embarrassing. I want to unlock my legs and look at him like a normal human but they seem to have stopped working. I grab a random book in front of me.
“Oh, here it is!” I say, before I will my legs to let me stand. When I turn to Andy, he has a big stupid grin on his face.
“Why were you looking for Losing It in Paris?”
“I’ve heard great things,” I say, totally lying.
“Oh, interesting. I wonder how it compares to Fifty Shades of Grey.”
“Why do you wonder that…,” I start, but I look down at the cover. This book is clearly erotica. And instantly, I turn fifty shades of red.
“Sarah said you were looking for me,” Andy says.
“Mm,” I barely get out. “Not to help me find this, of course. I actually think I got the title wrong,” I add, placing the book back on the shelf. God, why am I so nervous? This is just Andy. The boy who can be utterly flirtatious and funny. Not to mention understanding. I just picked up an erotica book and he didn’t laugh in my face.
Andy grins now, with his smile that gets me every time. “Well, did you need help with something else?”
I feel like melting, but luckily, I think quickly and reach into my back pocket to pull out the paper heart, then hand it to him.
“You’re giving this to me because…?” he says before reading it.
“What does it say, Sherlock? I was hoping we could do this next one together.”
He pauses. After a couple of seconds, he hands it back.
“I can’t do that,” he says.
“Can’t or won’t?” I say. I’m surprised I can say anything at all. My heart feels like it has shattered into a million pieces.
“Can’t and won’t. First of all, I’m working. Second of all, I want you to find what you’re looking for, but…this isn’t my mystery to solve.”
His words make me want to crawl underneath the bookshelf. Why did I come here?
Andy’s right. This isn’t his mystery to solve, but I’m the one standing here asking him. Since he doesn’t want to help me, he clearly doesn’t want to be with me either. This stings like a paper cut.
But I’m not about to let him see that I care. I shrug like his answer is no big deal and plaster a fake smile on my face. “Oh, that’s okay. I should’ve known you can’t leave work. I’ll get out of your way.”
His mouth opens like he’s going to say something, but then he snaps it shut, lost for words. That’s a first. But it doesn’t even matter. He already said what he needed to.
“I’ll see you around,” I say, stepping past him.
“Ella,” he calls to me, but I’m already headed for the exit. I feel him following me until we reach the front of the library. He veers straight toward Sarah.
It already felt like my heart fell out of my chest, but watching him go off to another girl makes it feel like Andy’s straight-up stomping on it. I will myself not to cry—not yet, anyway. I have too much pride. I take a deep breath and continue walking toward the door, blocking out the fact that I asked Andy to do something with me and he went running to another girl. Why did I even put myself in this position? I thought I could handle it, but the way my world is spinning right now shows me I can’t.
Just as I reach the door, I hear Andy behind me.
“Forget everything I said back there.”
“I may have retrograde amnesia but I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to forget that,” I say bitterly.
Andy smiles. “Well, try. Sarah said she’d cover for me.”
“I thought you said this isn’t your mystery to solve?”
“It isn’t. But it would be my privilege to join you.”
Chapter 19
We walk to an old movie theater at the edge of town, our hands so close they’re almost touching. I have the urge to grab his hand but resist and reach into my pocket for the paper heart instead.
A story in front of your eyes
Show these tickets at the entrance.
“You said this was it,” Andy says, watching me skim the note.
“It is. I’m just double-checking.”
“What, you think the message is going to change?” He grins at me.
“Like I said, I was just double-checking. I want to make sure I’m not leading us to the wrong place. I’ve done that enough times.”
He grabs my shoulders and stops me in my tracks. He looks down at me and for a second I think he’s stopping to kiss me. But he doesn’t lean over and his lips curl into a smirk.
“Um. What’re we doing?” I ask.
“I’m just double-checking I’m with the right girl. About five feet two. Blond. Probably has emergency heart-shaped snacks in her purse.”
“Very funny. Let’s go,” I say, walking ahead of him.
“Slightly demanding,” he calls out. “Oh, and a fast walker too!”
I smile but my back is toward him as I keep walking, so he can’t see the stupid grin on my face. Soon he catches up and passes me to beat me to the entrance. He opens the door for me, a cage of butterflies in my stomach opening with it.
At the box office there’s a girl around our age working. I recognize her from somewhere but I can’t put my finger on it. Her name tag says samantha, which seems familiar. Maybe she’s in my sister’s year at school.
I slide her the tickets that were in my paper heart, hoping she doesn’t laugh in my face. When she sees them, her eyes light up.
“Last theater on your right,” Samantha says. “It may take a moment to set up, so take your time getting comfortable.”
It reminds me of the time I got my nails done at the spa and the woman behind the front desk was expecting me.
“Whoa, we need to make a pit stop first,” Andy says. “Are you a popcorn or candy kind of girl?”
“Hmm…”
“Wrong answer,” he says.
“I didn’t give an answer.”
“It was a trick question. I’m getting both so we can put M&Ms in our popcorn. Duh.”
“That seems excessive even for you.”
“Are you joking? It’s the perfect combination of salty and sweet. You’ve never tried it?”
I shake my head.
“Well, I’d be happy to be your first.”
For a second I think he’s saying something else, and I can feel my cheeks burn. Andy doesn’t notice, though. He turns and orders the popcorn and M&Ms and one soda.
“You’re okay sharing, right?” he asks.
“I’m actually worried about your cooties,” I say sarcastically.
“Guess I won’t be kissing you after this date, then,” he says. His lips are pursed like he’s trying not to smile. “Oh, I forgot this isn’t a date,” he adds as the man behind the counter brings his order.
Andy grabs the popcorn and soda.
“Sure feels like a date,” I say, heading to the theater before I can see his reaction. I don’t have to see him to know his dimple is showing.
When we reach the theater, I see a sign that says private party on the outside. My jaw drops. It’s going to be just me and Andy?
Andy’s jaw drops too, but for a different reason.
“I forgot the M&Ms.”
“Go
od” is all I say.
“No way. I need you to experience the sweet and salty excessiveness.”
I laugh. “If you say so.”
“I do. Go in and enjoy the previews. I’ll be right back.”
Again, I have the urge to kiss Andy. A boy who will go back and stand in line so I can try something he likes for the first time. I enter the theater smiling widely, feeling like I’ve been transported back a hundred years. The dim lighting makes it feel like I’m looking at a blurry black-and-white photo, with old pictures flickering on the screen. The seats are also the plush vintage kind, not like the collapsible ones at the mall theater.
Where do you sit when you have an entire theater to yourself? Dead center, of course. I count the seats in each row and the total number of rows. I make my way to the middle, but as soon as I put the soda in my armrest, I start to worry that I’ll ruin the whole thing mid-movie by having to get up to use the restroom.
I make my way out of the theater, following the signs that take me toward the front again. As I’m walking, Samantha from the box office walks by in a hurry, texting something frantically on her phone. It suddenly comes to me how I recognize her. My mom has a program at her practice where high school students can follow the different doctors for the summer. Samantha was her “shadow.” There’s a picture of the two of them in the Poughkeepsie Journal.
And suddenly the idea pops into my head like a popcorn kernel in a microwave.
What if Samantha was the one who set this whole thing up?
Before I have time to decide if that’s right, I dart into the bathroom. Then I look in the mirror at my reflection and gasp at everything coming together.
I know who my admirer could be.
It’s my mom.
The truth seems so obvious now. Why haven’t I figured this out yet? She’s the one who wants me to get back out there, and she knows me better than practically anyone. Of course it’s her!
Any guilt I had before about possibly falling for Andy while some other admirer was sending me paper hearts washes away, and I can finally admit the truth to myself: I’m falling for everything about Andy. His face. His dimple. His humor. His mind. Him.
11 Paper Hearts (Underlined Paperbacks) Page 17