Paper Hearts

by Ali Novak

  “But where’s the career in that? I need to be able to support myself when I graduate.”

  Even though I was no longer focused on studying, I turned over the card.

  The correct answer is:

  Potential Energy

  Alec pursed his lips. “I don’t see the point in pursuing a career that doesn’t inspire you. If you don’t know what that career is yet, so what? Isn’t that the point of college—to figure things out? Felicity, you’ll never be happy if you’re busy chasing someone else’s success.”

  I turned away from Alec.

  I knew he meant well, and that he was only trying to help me, but he didn’t get it. And he never would. He hadn’t grown up in a household that struggled to make ends meet. Even before Alec Williams became a multi-platinum-selling musician, his family had been loaded because of his dad’s business. He could afford to chase his dreams. I wasn’t so fortunate.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I said at last. “But not everyone can enjoy that luxury.”

  • • •

  Theoretically, we should’ve made the drive from San Francisco to Seattle in one day, but a never-ending traffic jam put us way behind schedule. I could tell Alec was struggling to stay awake, and at seven o’clock, he stopped at one of the interstate rest areas so we could discuss our options.

  “How much longer do you think?” I asked as Alec found a parking spot.

  The lot was empty with the exception of a family and their minivan. The dad was in the process of repacking the rooftop cargo carrier, while the mom tried to wrangle all five kids back into the car. Watching them was stressful.

  Alec dropped his hands from the wheel and stretched. “We still have four hours to go.”

  With a yawn, Boomer leaned up between the front seats. “There’s a vending machine over there. If I grab a soda, I can probably handle another shift.”

  “I have my license, you know,” Asha said. “Why don’t you let me take over? I can make it the rest of the way.” She sounded as enthused at the prospect as I felt about being stuck in the car for another two hundred and fifty miles.

  “Maybe we should stop for the night,” I suggested.

  “Where?” Asha asked, but what she meant was how. We’d gotten lucky that Kelsey was nice enough to let us stay at her house, because none of us could afford a hotel. Well, not including Alec. But I didn’t expect him to pay for our rooms. He was already doing so much for me. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

  “Actually,” Alec said, perking up in his seat. “I know a place we can stay. Hold on a sec.” He plucked his cell out of the cup holder, hit Speed Dial, and climbed out of the car. Whoever he was calling answered right away, because Alec said hey before moving out of earshot.

  “Who do you think he’s talking to?” Asha asked.

  I shrugged off her question, although I was curious too. It was strange that Alec needed to make his call in private, especially considering he’d had a heated conversation with King over the phone in my presence. I hadn’t learned anything about the mysterious Double O Seven person who’d texted him earlier or what Safe House was.

  Why was Alec being so secretive?

  The conversation only lasted a minute. “All right,” said Alec as he slipped back into the car. “We’re good to go.”

  “And where exactly is that?”

  His smile grew crooked. “You’ll see.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we pulled off the highway, and I glanced around in confusion. There wasn’t much to see except a one-pump gas station, and nothing but an endless swell of trees. I knew the Heartbreakers were from the Portland area and wondered if he was taking us to stay with one of his bandmates, but we were still an hour outside the city. Alec took a left, away from the only sign of civilization. There was only pavement ahead of us and the blur of nature outside my window. I kept my gaze focused on the tree line. Night had swallowed the sun, and while the scenery was probably green and breathtaking during the day, the gloom of dusk made the landscape look dark and foreboding.

  Eventually we came upon a side road that broke through the forest wall. It was so small that if you didn’t already know it was there, you never would. Alec slowed the car in time to make the turn. I quickly discovered that the road was not a road at all, but a long driveway that twisted through the foliage and up a hill. As we neared our destination, light from a distant building flickered between the trunks. When we reached the top, the woods came to a sudden stop, opening to reveal a house in the clearing.

  Only it wasn’t a house. Before us loomed an impressive Tudor-style mansion made of gray brick and dripping in ivy. Every window was lit up, which was a welcoming sight after the suffocating shadows of the pines.

  “Whoa.” The word slipped out of my mouth. “Where are we?”

  “Oliver’s uncle’s place. We call it Safe House. It’s where we come when we want to get away from the stress of everything,” Alec answered, and I didn’t need to ask “Oliver who?” to know he was talking about his bandmate. “Professor Perry is away at a history conference. Poseidon doesn’t do well with strangers, so Oliver offered to watch him. Everyone’s here.”

  Huh?

  What the in the world was a Poseidon? Clearly he wasn’t referring to the Greek god, which made me wonder if Oliver’s uncle kept some sort of finicky sea monster in a backyard pond. But, more importantly, what did Alec mean by everybody? As in the rest of the band?

  I didn’t get a chance to ask any clarifying questions, because Asha exploded with chatter. “Oliver’s here? We get to meet him? No freaking way!” And then, gesturing at the beautiful home, “This is his uncle’s house? What kind of professor makes enough dough for all this?”

  Alec laughed. “None that I know of. Oliver bought this place for him about a year back. Not sure why, considering they’ve never been close, but Professor Perry did take Oliver in after his grandma…” Alec trailed off when he realized he was spilling somebody else’s story.

  The silence didn’t last long, because we’d pulled up alongside a slick, red sports car.

  “Holy hell,” Boomer gasped, pressing his hands and face against the window. “That’s a Lotus Evora!” He unbuckled his seat belt and was out the door before Alec turned off the engine.

  Asha caught my gaze in the mirror and rolled her eyes. “Here we go…” she muttered, and I allowed myself a small grin. Even though things had changed between the three of us, I took comfort in Boomer’s childlike excitement and Asha’s obvious exasperation. At least some things were still the same.

  We all piled out, and while Boomer fluttered around the vehicle in circles, the rest of us unloaded our luggage from the trunk.

  “When it was first released, I thought the facelift on the 400 was a good move. More modern, more aggressive. But wow. This”—Boomer shook his head—“this is so much more beautiful in person.” His fingers brushed the hood tenderly. “Four hundred horsepower. Zero to sixty in four point one seconds. God, the sound of this girl… She’s so sexy.”

  “I don’t know which is more upsetting: that you referred to a car as if it’s a person, or that you think it’s sexy.” Asha sounded angry, but I knew she was only teasing. “Can we please go inside? These woods are giving me the serious creeps. It like a scene straight out of IN.”

  Boomer looked like someone would have to drag him away kicking and screaming before he would leave, and I was convinced he’d sleep outside on the driveway so he could stay next to the car. Thankfully, Alec knew exactly what to say to get Boomer to move. “I’m sure if we head inside, JJ will let you drive it at some point.”

  Openmouthed, Boomer stared at Alec. “Are you for real?”

  Alec shrugged, and that was all it took. Boomer grabbed Asha’s hand and dragged her up the front walk so fast you’d think there really were werewolves and vampires lurking in the woods. I hesitated, staring up at the
huge house. It was romantic and age-old in a way that suited a historian.

  “Felicity? Is everything okay?”

  “Um, yeah,” I said, pulling the skin at my throat. “It’s just… I didn’t realize your friends would be here.” And by friends I meant JJ. Boys like him were intimidating.

  Alec’s face softened in understanding. “He’ll behave himself. I promise.”

  “You sure?”

  His lips quirked into a half smile. “Positive. And if he doesn’t, I’m fairly sure Asha can take him.”

  Chapter 13

  Alec rang the doorbell. We stood on the stoop for a solid two minutes, but nobody answered.

  “You sure someone’s here?” Asha asked, even though the heavy bass of a rock song could be heard pounding from a distant corner of the house.

  “Maybe they can’t hear us?” I suggested.

  Alec frowned. “I doubt that.”

  He tested the handle to see if it was unlocked, and the door creaked ajar. Alec’s forehead wrinkled. He pushed the thick, wooden slab open and inched inside.

  “Something wrong?” I asked. I didn’t understand why he was he being so cautious. There weren’t signs of a break-in or anything else amiss. The last person inside probably forgot to lock up. Big deal.

  “Shhhh.” He tilted his head as if listening for something.

  Biting my lip, I glanced over my shoulder. What’s going on? I mouthed to my friends. The look on Asha’s expression echoed my confusion. She shook her head, and Boomer raised a shoulder in a half shrug.

  Not knowing what else to do, I followed Alec into an unlit foyer and set down my duffel. Beyond the tiny room was a magnificent entrance hall decorated with all the elegance and glamour of the 1920s. I felt like we’d stepped back in time. Ancestral portraits of gray-haired men in uniform and women wearing fashion from another era lined the walls, which were covered in an antiqued-silver damask paper. A grand staircase made of mahogany or some other type of warm wood, with carpeted red steps and hand-carved banisters, commanded the center of the hall.

  Alec, who didn’t seem impressed by our surroundings the way I was, was still looking around with caution. Then a scraping sound cut through the silence as something hard slid across the floor and connected with my foot.

  “What the…?” It was a neon water gun. A second Super Soaker was lying next to a laundry basket filled to the brim with water balloons.

  At the sight of the plastic toys, Alec’s entire demeanor changed. He didn’t relax exactly, but the suspicion in his eyes faded, as if he knew exactly what was going on. He scooped up the water guns. He passed the bigger of the two to me and tested his own. A quick blast of water sprayed across the stone floor.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked, staring down at the toy in my hands.

  “Use it.” His expression was grave. “We’re going into battle.” He eased down the entrance hall.

  Two apprehensive seconds ticked by.

  “Double O Seven, target is in sight! Repeat, target spotted!”

  The next minute unfolded like a scene out of a movie.

  A familiar face jumped out from behind a suit of armor. Unlike the last time I saw JJ Morris, he was fully clothed. He had on a pair of camo pants and a black tank top, with a stripe of war paint under each eye. Clutched in his hands was a plastic water gun similar to ours, only his was bigger. He blasted Alec with a spray.

  Alec lunged out of the way and fired back. Without taking his eyes off JJ, he shouted to me, “I got him. You take Oliver!”

  Oliver? The only person here is JJ…

  But then Oliver charged down the hall in our direction. He wasn’t wearing the dorky camouflage his partner in crime was, but a bandana was tied around his head Rambo-style, and his recognizable brown waves curled up around the strip of fabric. Before I fully comprehend what I was doing, I lifted my Super Soaker and aimed it at the lead singer of the Heartbreakers.

  Oliver faltered when he saw me, as if he expected Alec to be alone. But he quickly schooled his surprise and charged my way, a war cry tearing from his lips. It was surreal—a celebrity chasing me with a squirt gun—but it was happening too quickly for me to consider. I pumped the handle of the gun until enough pressure built and let it rip once he was in range. Oliver returned the favor, and when a jet of cold water hit me in the face, I shrieked and dodged the stream.

  For the next two minutes we dueled across the room, dousing each other in icy showers. Oliver seemed unconcerned about drenching the carpet and walls and furnishings of his uncle’s house. I was giddy with the craziness of the current situation, my laughter melding with the chaos. JJ shouted mocking insults at Alec who, silent as ever, seemed to be evading much of the attack, but I was too focused on beating Oliver to pay full attention.

  My gun, which was much smaller than his, was the first to run out of water. When I pulled the trigger and nothing came out, a slow smirk spread across Oliver’s face. He lowered his weapon to revel in victory.

  “Looks like you’re out,” he said. “Tough luck.”

  But before he could take aim, another war cry rang out behind me. Boomer and Asha rushed out of the foyer, the laundry basket of balloons swinging between them. Grinning, I tossed the empty toy aside and grabbed three of the water bombs. Oliver’s smirk fell. The fight didn’t last long after that. With Asha and Boomer as reinforcements, the four of us were able to back JJ and Oliver into a corner and rain balloons down on them until they were soaking.

  “Okay, okay!” Oliver sputtered, waving his hands in surrender. “Enough already. You guys win.” His hair was dripping, plastered to the side of his face, and a huge puddle had gathered on the oriental rug beneath his feet.

  There was only one water balloon left, and grinning to himself, Alec plucked it from the basket and lobbed it at his bandmates. It hit JJ square in the chest and exploded. JJ’s eyes flickered with irritation, but the paint running down his face rendered his expression comical.

  “That didn’t go as planned,” he said, picking a chunk of broken latex off his shirt. He flicked it in Alec’s direction. “We didn’t know you were bringing”—he craned his neck to look up at Boomer—“a giant with you.”

  “Or anyone else for that matter,” Oliver grumbled.

  “So having an advantage is okay, provided that you’re not the ones outnumbered?” Alec asked. He crossed his arms, disgruntled, but the corner of his mouth twitched, and I knew he was curbing a smile. “That’s not very fair, is it?”

  “All right, Mr. Moral High Ground. We get it. JJ and I got what was coming to us.” Oliver yanked off his bandana and shook out his hair, sending a spray of droplets in every direction. “Now,” he said, after fixing his bangs, “are you going to introduce us to your friends, or are we going to continue pretending this whole situation isn’t slightly awkward?”

  “Oh!” Alec turned to face us, two small patches of pink on his cheeks. He gestured at me first. “Oliver, JJ. This is—”

  “No introductions needed there,” JJ cut in. He showed me a toothy grin. “Felicity from Skype.” Alec shot him a warning look, and JJ quickly added, “I was scolded rather severely for being”—he frowned and paused—“what was it Stella called me again?”

  “A pervy, womanizing pig.”

  “Yeah, that’s it! My apologies. I swear I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “His Off button is broken,” Oliver added, dropping an arm around JJ’s shoulder. “We’ve learned to ignore him most of the time.”

  “No worries,” I managed to say, although I had yet to make up my mind about JJ and his in-your-face personality.

  “Well, I thought you were funny,” Asha said, eyelashes fluttering.

  I wheeled around and glared. Seriously, what happened to chicks before dicks? Or in this particular case, superhot boy band members. Was that all it took? One attractive cele
brity, and suddenly I was chopped liver?

  “Hey, I recognize you too. You’re Asha, right?” JJ asked. Her eyes lit up when he remembered her name, but that didn’t compare to the expression on her face when he pressed his lips to the back of her hand and said, “Pleasure to meet you.”

  A dark, grumbling noise brewed at the back of Boomer’s throat, and JJ cast a curious glance in his direction.

  “Who’s the tree?” he asked.

  “The tree happens to be Asha’s boyfriend,” Boomer growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “My name’s Boomer, and for future reference, the tall jokes get old fast.”

  JJ dropped Asha’s hand, but took the news in stride. “But you haven’t heard my beanstalk one yet.”

  Letting out a long sigh, Alec scrubbed his hand down his face.

  Oliver kept his features straight for all of two seconds before snickering, and the sound only fueled JJ’s grin. “So,” he said, when he finally had his laughter under control. “Who’s hungry?”

  • • •

  Everyone was damp, but Oliver led us through a twisting route of hallways until we reached the back of the house. The heavy rock music grew in volume until we reached its source—a kitchen filled with the scent of freshly baked garlic bread. Oliver’s girlfriend, Stella, was setting the table while dancing to the screeching song, and a guy with glasses and messy strawberry-blond hair was chopping lettuce at the island cutting board. Without introduction, I immediately knew he was Xander Jones, the fourth and final member of the Heartbreakers.

  “What in the world is this noise?” JJ asked, strolling in and plopping down on one of the bar stools. Alec filed in after him, but Asha, Boomer, and I lingered in the doorway, waiting to be introduced.

  “Don’t ask me,” Xander answered without looking up from his work. “Stella took over the music as soon as you guys left.”

  “It’s Bionic Bones,” she said, waving a fork in JJ’s direction. “Only my all-time favorite band.”

  “Second all-time favorite band,” Oliver corrected. He swept across the room, tugged her against his chest, and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Because you love us more than Freddie K, right?”