Paper Hearts

by Ali Novak

“Give me your phone,” I demanded.

  She snorted. “So you can delete everything? Not going to happen.”

  Without warning, Boomer leaned over and plucked the cell from her hands. Before she could react, he punched a couple of buttons and tossed it back to her. “There,” he said. “Problem solved.”

  “Boomer!” Asha whined when she saw the pictures were gone. “I totally hate you.”

  He grinned, obviously not concerned about her newfound feelings, and poked her on the nose. “Just trying to contain the crazy.”

  “I’m not crazy,” she snapped. “Just because I’m passionate about something you’re not doesn’t mean you can make fun of me.”

  His face softened. “You’re right. That wasn’t nice of me, and I’m sorry.” He reached out as if to comfort her, but his hand changed direction at the last second, and he picked up his Game Boy instead. “But Felicity is right too, Asha. Posting pictures like that isn’t cool. There’s nothing wrong with being passionate, but maybe you should take it down a few levels. Otherwise, you’re going to freak the dude out, okay?”

  Asha blew out her cheeks. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Sorry for the holdup, but I…er… Is everything all right?”

  We turned in unison at the sound of Alec’s voice. He stood at the end of the couch, a small suitcase at his side. Instead of answering the question, Boomer coughed and tugged on his collar while Asha stared at the carpet.

  I jumped out of my seat. “Yup,” I blurted. “Everything’s totally fine.”

  Alec focused on my friends and said nothing. I waited for him to give me a sign that the Skype call hadn’t made things weird between us.

  He didn’t.

  “Why don’t we head out?” Boomer suggested when our silence lapsed into awkwardness. “We’ve got a lot of road ahead of us.”

  The trip down to the car was quieter than the journey up to Alec’s apartment because this time there was no happy whistling from Asha. There was a tightness to the air. I could feel it as we walked—a strand of energy as taut and sharp as barbed wire, rigidly knit between me and Alec. I wanted to reach out and karate chop it with my hand. All I had to do was open my mouth and say something, but I couldn’t think of the right words, and so our footsteps echoed through the deserted garage.

  When the Cadillac came into view, Alec unlocked the doors with a click, and I wondered if the entire drive would be this uncomfortable. I didn’t know how much longer I could stand it.

  Thank God for Asha and her love of the Heartbreakers.

  “So, Alec,” she said as she pulled her door shut. “I’ve been dying to ask you…” And then she dove into a series of questions about the band and their music. Alec seemed happy for the distraction, which helped ease my nerves. I settled into my seat as he backed out of his parking spot, and for the next few minutes, I was content with listening to their chatter.

  Then I realized we were going in the wrong direction.

  “Um, Alec?” I said, sitting up straight. “Not to question your navigational skills or anything, but isn’t the highway the other way?”

  “I was going to take US 101 through Malibu instead.”

  “Isn’t the I-5 faster?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted, “but this way is less stressful. More scenic. Not as many big trucks and traffic. Do you mind? I promise I know where I’m going. I used to drive this route all the time.”

  For the first time since the Skyping disaster, Alec smiled. It was no more than a brief upward curve of the lips, but God, how quickly it melted my worry. Suddenly, I didn’t care how we got to San Francisco, just as long as we did. Because I was with my two best friends. I was with Alec.

  And I was on my way to finding Rose.

  Chapter 9

  We were thirty minutes into our drive, and everyone had settled in for the long haul. Asha and Boomer were in the backseat watching a movie on a tablet he’d borrowed from his dad. Alec and I hadn’t spoken much, mainly because he wasn’t one to start conversations, and for the time being, I was content with watching out the window. It wasn’t until we passed a white mail truck that I thought of Rose’s letters.

  “Oh!” I sat forward to grab my bag. I’d packed the bundle with the intention of reading the rest on the bus. The stack of letters was in no particular order, so I started with the one on top.

  December 26th

  Dear Felicity,

  Yesterday was my first Xmas without you and Mom. I did all our favorite traditions, like make chocolate snowballs, watch Elf, and listen to “Jingle Bell Rock” on repeat until my ears bled. I decorated my apartment with some garland I found at Dollar Discount, and even put up a miniature tree. But it’s not the same. Without anyone to celebrate with, I wasn’t in the Christmas spirit. On the upside, my neighbor invited me to a New Year’s Eve party, so at least I won’t be spending the entire holiday season alone.

  I know this shouldn’t count as a letter because it’s so short, but I don’t have the energy to write much else at the moment. Heart you more than Starburst and salsa.

  xoxo,

  Rose

  PS Enclosed is your present. It’s not much, but I had fun making it.

  With gentle fingers, I withdrew an origami Santa Claus from the envelope. He was shaped like a star, made out of red and white paper, and fit into the palm of my hand. As I stared at him, my eyes watered.

  Before she ran away, Rose and Mom got good at fighting. They practiced daily, and more often than not, I had to blast my music to drown out their angry words. It was always the same argument. Mom wanted Rose to go to college, but all my sister wanted was to see the world. She had no interest in school. By the time Rose left, I could recite their exchanges like I was an actress reading from a script. When one of them wasn’t home, the house fell quiet, and I cherished those moments of peace.

  But not that Christmas.

  I’d never forget how empty and cheerless the house felt without Rose—how lonely it was. Mom bought me my first pair of wire cutters that year, which I’d begged her for, but I would have traded all the presents in the world to hear them fight again. Because that would have meant that Rose wasn’t gone.

  Not wanting to squish Santa, I tucked him up on the dashboard where he wouldn’t get ruined before turning my attention back to the pile of mail. I wanted answers and figured the best way to understand what had happened four years ago was to start at the beginning. I shuffled through the stack until I found the first letter my sister had sent.

  August 15th

  Dear Felicity,

  If you’re reading this, then it means you found my note. I also hope it means you’ve forgiven me or at least are on your way to doing so. I need you to know that I never wanted to leave, but I had to for my own sanity.

  Mom has all these rules and expectations, but I can’t be the person she wants me to be. I don’t want to waste the next four years of my life getting a pointless degree so I can work a nine-to-five job until I die. I want to have the kind of adventures I can tell my grandkids about when I’m old. I want to see the world. I want to learn by living, and Mom doesn’t get that.

  If you’re worrying about me, please don’t. Things are going great. I bought a bus ticket to Phoenix. I have a friend who lives here, and I’m staying with him for the time being. The air is so dry and hot that I feel like I’m living inside a sauna, and the scenery is so different from in California. Everything is a varying shade of brown…that is, with the exception of sunset. That’s when the McDowell Mountain Range is painted in the reds and purples of dwindling daylight. It’s breathtaking, and I know you would love it!

  I found a job working at a local café, but it’s not a forever type of career. I’ll probably stay long enough to save up money for a flight across the pond, and then I’ll backpack across Europe. Or maybe I’ll find a job working on a cruise ship and travel the seas! Oth
er than that, there’s not much to tell, so I’ll write you again as soon as I have something to share. I heart you more than Starburst and salsa.

  xoxo,

  Rose

  Something wasn’t right. Clearly, I was missing a piece of the puzzle. What note was Rose talking about? Had she written me a letter before this one? One that wasn’t hidden in the guitar case under my mom’s bed? Still unable to make sense of my sister’s departure, I moved on to the next letter. And the next. And the one after that until I’d read every letter. They were all the same—rambling descriptions of Rose’s day-to-day life. I let out a long, exasperated sigh.

  Alec cleared his throat and turned down the music. “Are those your sister’s letters?”

  I rubbed my temples. “Yeah.”

  “Read something you didn’t want to know?”

  “That’s the thing,” I responded. “I want to know why Rose left and why she never came home. But there’s no explanation. Don’t get me wrong. It’s wonderful to hear about her life and know she’s doing well, but it’s so frustrating. It’s all meaningless chatter, just…sweet nothings.” I shook my head, trying to come up with the right words. “I need more.”

  “Well,” Alec said after a moment of consideration. “It’s a good thing we’re on our way to San Francisco. We’ll get all your answers in person.”

  “Thank you, Alec. For driving me and for—”

  “Don’t thank me until we find your sister.”

  I nodded in agreement. I could live with that.

  “Good. Until then…” He paused and dug his phone out of his pocket. “I made a playlist last night. It’s short since I didn’t expect us to be in the car for so long, but…do you wanna listen?”

  “You made a playlist for today?”

  “Yeah, with songs and artists I thought you might like.”

  “Yes, I’d love to hear it.”

  With a shaky smile, Alec hit Play. It was as if he was both nervous and excited to share this with me, but he had nothing to worry about. That he’d taken the time to find music for me made whatever the result of his efforts perfect in my eyes. An upbeat melody filled the car, and I instantly recognized the song.

  A grin split my face. “You listen to Vinyl Theatre?”

  Which of course was a silly question. They might be a little-known indie band, but after sampling his music collection, I knew that Alec listened to everything and anything. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a playlist composed of tribal chants.

  He nodded. “I take it you’ve heard of them?” His shoulders dipped slightly, as if I’d spoiled his fun somehow.

  “They’re tied with Hedley for the coveted spot as my third-favorite band.”

  My answer made him snort with laughter, and he shook his head as if someone up above was playing a joke on him. “Of course they are.”

  “What?” I asked. Was he making fun of me? My question was answered when the song changed. It was “Crazy for You,” one of Hedley’s bigger hits.

  “And here I thought I was being cool,” Alec said.

  “This is cool,” I insisted.

  Beyond cool. That Alec was able to pinpoint the artists I enjoyed listening to from the little time we’d spent together was incredible. It also revealed a lot about him. First, that he was more observant than I’d originally thought. And second, that his knowledge of the music world was vast.

  “Oh yeah,” he said and rolled his eyes. “A playlist with a ton of songs you know by heart.”

  I waved him off. He was looking at this all wrong. “If I know them by heart, that means they’re worth listening to.”

  Alec paused, considering. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, and then he leaned over and turned up the music.

  • • •

  We were cruising somewhere along the coast when Alec turned on his blinker and pulled off the highway. A small town rose up to meet us, and in the distance, stripes of sparkling blue flickered between the buildings we passed. I wondered if we were lost, but Alec casually gripped the wheel with one hand, while the other tapped against his leg in time with the music. He looked comfortable, like he knew exactly where he was going, so I let my questions die inside me.

  Asha didn’t have the same faith. “Is everything okay?” she asked, sitting up straighter to get a better look out the window.

  “It’s past lunchtime” was Alec’s only explanation.

  At the mention of food, my stomach rumbled loudly enough for everyone to hear over the music. I placed a hand on my abdomen and looked down in surprise. Shut up, shut up, shut up! I commanded. It growled again in rebellion.

  “Good thing I pulled off here, huh?”

  I could hear the smile in Alec’s words, and a burst of laughter spilled from the backseat. “Felicity’s stomach definitely thinks so,” Asha said.

  Ignoring her, I turned back to Alec. “Where exactly is here?”

  “Pismo Beach,” he answered. “A quintessential California coastal town.”

  He turned onto what must have been the main road, and we passed little cafés and restaurants and palm trees. From the way Alec’s eyes lit up as he took in the scenery around us, I could tell that this place wasn’t just quintessential, but sentimental.

  “You’re been here before?” I asked, rolling down the window so I could smell the sea air. A warm breeze whipped through the car, swirling my loose curls around like dancing flames.

  “This is where my mom grew up,” he explained. “Vanessa and I spent our childhood summers here visiting my gran. There’s a restaurant called the Splash Café that has the best clam chowder. Every time we’d walk down to the beach, we’d stop and get a cup. It’s a bit touristy, and Vanessa said I only liked going there because it looks cool, but it’s still my favorite place to eat in Pismo.”

  Splash Café lived up to its hype. At least, the facade did—we had yet to taste the food—but it was easy to see why kid Alec loved it so much. The roof and awning were bright blue, and a surfer was mounted to the front of the building, framed by two massive orange and yellow surfboards. A huge beach mural was painted on the side of the building, and judging from the line that stretched out the door, it was a popular spot to eat.

  “Crap,” Alec said as we parked across the street from the café. “I should’ve known it would be packed.”

  I shrugged. The promise of delicious food outweighed my reluctance to wait. “I don’t mind. How long do you think it will take?”

  “Er…that’s not what I’m concerned about.”

  “Then what?” I asked, but Alec didn’t respond. He watched me silently, waiting for me to figure out the answer on my own.

  “He doesn’t want to be spotted,” Asha said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  Ohhh!

  “Do you want to stay in the car while we go order?” I asked.

  “I feel bad ditching you guys,” he said, his cheeks turning pink. “But would you mind?”

  “Not at all. We completely understand.” As soon as I said this, I realized how silly it sounded. As if I had any clue how it felt to be famous. “What do you want?”

  “A clam chowder bread bowl,” he said, and then, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? We could always go through a drive-through somewhere.”

  “Alec, you’re driving us all the way to San Francisco. The least I can do is stand in line for food.” I offered him a reassuring smile before grabbing my bag and lifting the canvas strap over my head.

  “Okay, but before you go…” Alec reached for his pocket. After a few seconds of clawing at his shorts unsuccessfully, he leaned back and lifted himself off the seat, finally extracting a wallet. He pulled out a crisp fifty and held it out to me.

  My fingers itched to accept his offer. But then I remembered Asha’s comment about how I was absorbed with thoughts of money, so I w
aved him off.

  “Felicity, take it,” he said, but I shook my head and scrambled out of the car before I changed my mind.

  Alec turned to Asha with the bill, but she snorted. “Not going to happen.”

  “Boomer, you coming with, or should I order something for you?” I asked, but he was too engrossed in his game to answer. Asha snapped her fingers in his face.

  Startled, he blinked a few times and glanced up. “Huh?”

  “Seriously,” she said, heaving a sigh. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Who, me?” he asked.

  “Yes, you. What seventeen-year-old still plays Pokémon?”

  He frowned. “I do?”

  “Exactly.” She reached over and clicked open his seat belt. “Come on.”

  Boomer looked out the window in confusion as if he’d just realized we’d stopped. “Wait, we’re already there?”

  “Not even close,” Asha said with an eye roll. “We’re getting food. Hurry up. Otherwise, Felicity’s stomach is going to eat itself.”

  “Ha. Freaking. Ha,” I said.

  “Sounds painful.” Boomer tossed his Game Boy to the side. After clambering out of the car, he stretched his arms up in the air and yawned. It made him look taller than he already was, and I wondered how he could possibly fit in the backseat. “All right. Let’s go feed you, shrimp.” He mussed my hair, and I batted his hand away. “Maybe then you’ll grow a few inches.”

  The inside of the café was as colorful as the outside, and the line moved surprisingly quickly. After a ten-minute wait, we were out the door with a steaming bag of food—bread bowls for me and Alec, two fish sandwiches for Boomer, and chicken strips with fries for Asha. As we crossed the street, Alec climbed out of the car. While we were gone, he’d put on sunglasses and, despite the heat, a zip-up with the hood pulled over his head.

  “Thanks for getting the food, guys. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” I said, switching our meal from one side to another. It was heavier than expected, and without a handle, I had to prop the paper bag against my hip.

  “Here, let me.” Alec reached over and took it off my hands. “How much do I owe you?”