Paper Cranes (Fairytale Twist #1)

by Jordan Ford

  “Enough with this intimidation bullshit. She doesn’t want you. She doesn’t want to talk to you, she doesn’t want to hang out with you, and she definitely doesn’t want to have sex with you! So you know what? From now on, you stay away from her. You don’t look at her and you don’t come near her.”

  Damn, that felt good to say!

  His heart thundered with adrenaline as Owen’s nose crinkled at the side, his lip rising at the corner. He looked like a bulldog.

  Tristan stood his ground, ready to fight if he had to. The idea actually thrilled him just a little. It was a hell of a lot better than being a coward.

  “This isn’t your business.” Owen’s dark glare was an ominous warning.

  Tristan fought the urge to spin and walk away. Instinct was warring with a dogged determination to be the person Helena wanted him to be. Clenching his jaw, he shifted his shoulders back and bunched his fists.

  “Mikayla’s my friend and you’ve made it my business by being an asshole. Now back off.”

  Tristan shoved Owen’s shoulder, forcing him to move out of Mikayla’s space. Owen lurched back and then raised his fist, ready for a fight.

  “Mr. Stalwart!” Principal Smyth called from the end of the corridor.

  Owen’s skin blanched, his fist dropping to his side.

  “Might I have a word in my office?” When Principal Smyth’s left eyebrow arched like that, everyone knew he meant business.

  Owen scowled at both of them, snatching his bag and shuffling through the crowd. As soon as the pair clipped away, a low murmur started in the corridor. Tristan saw a few fingers pointing his way but he turned his back on them, gazing down at Mikayla with a soft smile.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so triumphant. It was going to make for a great story.

  “You okay?" He gripped the strap of his bag.

  Mikayla’s lips were still parted, her eyes round with wonder. Finally her face puckered and she tipped her head, sticking out her hand. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met."

  He snickered, a broad smile taking over his face.

  "Is that a smile?" Her face lit with one of her own, her brown eyes dancing.

  He shrugged, his grin still firmly locked in place.

  Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. “You know, your eyes look really blue today.”

  He jolted at her words, thinking of Helena. Taking Mikayla’s hand, he gave it a soft squeeze and whispered, “Thank you.”

  His earnest gratitude took her by surprise. He let go of her hand, his cheeks heating with color.

  "What’s up with you?” Her eyes narrowed.

  He wasn’t quite ready to tell her, so he shrugged and said, “I just feel happy, I guess.”

  “Happy? You obviously haven’t looked in a mirror this morning.”

  He gave her a quizzical frown.

  She chuckled, hugging her binder to her chest. “You look like you've been possessed by the ghost of sunshine or something.”

  He liked that…a lot.

  Nodding with a small grin, he whispered, “Maybe I have."

  Mikayla’s nose crinkled. “Well, tell her to stick around.”

  Tristan’s insides sizzled as he reached for his locker. “Trust me, she's not going anywhere."

  41

  Transformation

  Mikayla and Tristan walked to class together and even sat with each other for lunch. It felt weird to go from solo boy to having an instant buddy, but Mikayla was pretty cool. Her sense of humor was quirky and her down-to-earth, no-fuss nature was easy to be around. Tristan could see her becoming a good friend.

  Tristan pulled out Helena’s letter a few times throughout the day, rereading it during free period and again just before he biked home. He’d have it memorized in a few days, of that he was sure. It was nice having her voice in his head, and he’d already started thinking about how he was going to reply. He wanted to tell her that he’d fulfill those dreams…but he wanted to promise her something a little more too.

  Skeletal dreams and wishes started to take shape in his mind, and he knew he’d cling to them until they became reality.

  Turning onto Booth Street, Tristan cycled a little harder. Once again his tires squealed to a stop when he saw a taxi on the curb in front of Helena’s castle. The trunk was open, the back door ajar.

  He jumped off his bike just as Sylvie walked through the gate dragging a large suitcase behind her.

  “You’re leaving already?” He leaned his bike against the tall fence and ran to her side.

  She passed the suitcase to the driver and gave Tristan a sad smile. “I have to get back.”

  “But you only just got here.”

  “I know.” She nodded.

  “Is everything okay?”

  She nodded again but didn’t say anything.

  Tristan bit the inside of his cheek, resisting the urge to grab her shoulders and give them a shake.

  Tell me the truth!

  He wanted to yell at her, drop to his knees and beg her to take him to England too. But that would be futile.

  Fighting frustration, he licked his lips and desperately tried to draw out the conversation. “What’s going to happen to the house?”

  “It’s staying in the family for now. Beatrice can’t face the idea of selling it. The packers came this morning and boxed up most of their things. They’ll be shipped to England, and there’ll be no need for us to return.”

  “Oh.” Tristan swallowed the painful lump in his throat.

  Sliding his hand into his back pocket, he touched the letter, reminding himself not to fall apart. Helena was with him. Everything would be okay.

  “Listen, I must go. I need to get to the airport in time for my flight.” She stepped towards the cab.

  Tristan reached for her arm before he could stop himself. “Wait!”

  “I can’t tell you where she is.”

  “I know. I just… Can you give me a minute. I want to write her a note.”

  Sylvie closed her eyes. “If my sister finds out…”

  “Please. Just a note.” He yanked off his backpack and scrambled inside for a pen.

  Ripping out the last page of his English book, he used his teeth to uncap his pen and quickly scribbled a note.

  Sweet Helena…my guiding light…

  I don’t have time to say everything I want, but you need to know that I’ll carry your heart with the greatest care. I’ll honor your requests and I won’t let you down.

  Just know that you carry my heart too. I don’t even know when I gave it to you really. It could have been the day I met you. It could have been that time you rewrote Romeo and Juliet for me. Or maybe you took it in pieces…until the entire thing was yours.

  All I can tell you is that I’m happy for you to look after it for me, but rest assured that a man can’t live without his heart for too long, and he’ll search the earth to find it again.

  Never give up hope.

  Forever yours,

  Tristan

  Folding the note in half, he passed it over with shaking hands, hoping Sylvie wouldn’t read it and decide not to pass it along.

  “Promise me you’ll give it to her,” he croaked.

  She let out a wispy sigh as she tucked the note into her pocket. “All right.”

  Her nod was stiff, but her blue eyes told him she would.

  “Thank you.”

  He swallowed, the lump in his throat feeling large and prickly.

  “She’ll be okay, Tristan. She’s surrounded by people who love her.”

  He bobbed his head and stepped back to give the woman room to leave. Standing on the curb, he watched the taxi drive away until it’d turned off Booth Street and disappeared around the corner.

  For a moment he felt completely empty, the soul-shattering darkness edging in and trying to remind him of what he didn’t have.

  But then he pulled out the letter. Gently unfolding it, he leaned against the fence and slowly reread each word. Like savo
ring a decadent chocolate cake, he soaked in each line, reminding himself of everything he hadn’t lost.

  He was going to live an amazing life.

  And whether he found his heart again or not, at least he knew he’d never be alone.

  Tucking the letter back into his pocket, he collected his bike and headed for the house.

  He had a story to write.

  42

  Hear My Soul Speak

  Tristan stood in the new bastion of Hohenzollern Castle, gazing out at the glorious vista below. A forest, peppered with magnificent trees—all shades of green— stretched out before him. The late summer breeze was warm and inviting. He breathed it in, a sad, yet peaceful smile resting on his lips.

  “This is amazing,” he whispered to his heart. “Wish you were standing right here with me.”

  His heart did a double beat—Helena’s way of letting him know she was…although he couldn’t deny the deep sorrow resting within him that day.

  For the last three years, he’d been working his ass off to save enough money to take a trip to Europe. He’d even found the courage to secure a loan from his mother and Curtis.

  At twenty years of age, Tristan had finally taken a leap of faith and headed to England in search of his heart. He’d spent most of his trip in London and Cambridge, asking questions, following trails, and ultimately coming up empty-handed. He was due back home in two days, and after a frustrating six weeks away, decided to end his trip with the first thing on Helena’s bucket list—visit castles that fairytales were born in.

  Well, this German castle sure fit the bill. It was magical, and he could understand why Helena swooned over the fact that her parents met there. He could picture the scene so clearly, imagining himself as King Kenneth, gazing out at the breathtaking vista before turning to spot the woman of his dreams.

  He glanced to his right and noticed a girl leaning against the stone wall, facing out to Stuttgart. He couldn’t see her face, but his lips twitched at the way her short blonde hair ruffled in the breeze. She tucked the locks behind her ears in an attempt to control them. Her neck was long and swan-like, giving her a regal elegance.

  He nearly started wondering what her face looked like, but was distracted by thoughts of his Helena.

  He turned the other way and spied a group of Japanese tourists taking pictures. They giggled and held up their fingers in the peace sign, posing for the photo with cheesy grins.

  Tristan smiled and turned back to his own view, although it was impeded by visions of Helena.

  He thought of her golden locks, so long and beautiful. The images in his mind had not faded…probably because he’d worked so hard to keep them alive. He’d spent hours writing stories about her, describing every detail so it stayed crystal clear. The way her green eyes shone like emeralds…the long golden braid that would sit over her shoulder. She’d been his Rapunzel.

  Clearing his throat, he rubbed the tattoo beneath his shirt, patting his chest with a soft smile.

  I carry your heart with me had been inked onto his chest the day after he graduated high school. Mikayla had designed it for him, her artistic flair making the quote magical. The words were sandwiched between two stylized paper cranes.

  His best friend had finally pried out the truth about his tower girl and she knew everything. She was actually the one who insisted he spend his summer searching England for her. She’d offered to come with him, but he wouldn’t let her. She’d fallen in love in her second year of college, and he couldn’t imagine her boyfriend being overly happy about her traveling the globe over their summer break.

  He’d kind of wanted to come alone anyway. Even though he hadn’t found Helena, it’d been a good trip…the first time he’d really stepped out on his own. He needed to know he could do it.

  If he was one hundred percent honest, the whole experience had been epic. As heart saddening as it was not to find his girl, the chase had been thrilling. Multiple stories had formed in his mind throughout the journey as he met amazing people, walked into village pubs that were hundreds of years old, and stood outside a grand home that once belonged to Helena’s grandparents. He’d pictured her inside it, wondered which room she’d slept in.

  Stories filled with beautiful maidens, evil queens and brave knights, through to tales of stuffy boarding schools, horrible headmistresses, and a brave girl in a wheelchair escaping out the back door grew in his mind. He’d been jotting down notes ever since.

  Tugging a notebook from his back pocket, he flipped it open to the middle and scribbled down German castle perfect setting for Rapunzel retell. These towers are epic.

  His lips twitched as another scene appeared to him. He could picture a sword fight on the bastion and turned to watch two knights battle it out in his mind. Licking his bottom lip, he let the scene play through, wondering if the story he was building should go that way. It would be an exciting element to the climax he had planned.

  He was taking every writing and English class he could at college. It was really helping hone his skills and develop his passion for the written word. Helena had been right…he really did have it in him.

  Pursing his lips, he recaptured the scene with an added twist.

  “You know, you could use this old-school setting with modern-day characters,” he murmured. “That could be cool.”

  His mind’s eye changed the scene and he pictured two guys fighting it out on the stones: swords became fists and an epic hand-to-hand battle unfolded. A whole new story bloomed from that one thought, excitement skipping through him as he reopened his notebook and jotted down something new.

  He grinned at his bullet point, laughing at himself for using paper and pen. He should be dictating into his phone, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Helena would love his old-school style, and his notebook was already becoming a precious treasure. If he ever did find her, he wanted to hand it over and watch her face as she pored over the pages.

  “Wish I could find you,” he whispered. “I miss you every day.”

  Going for his right-hand pocket, he took out a paper crane. He’d become an expert folder; a stack of blank cranes was always at the ready. Leaning his notebook on the uneven stone, he scribbled on the crane’s wings.

  Standing in the place your parents met. It’s magic, and stories are being born here. Can’t wait to share them with you one day. Your forever hopeful Tristan.

  Tucking his pen and notebook away, he held the crane in his fingers, tweaking the wing before launching it into the sky. The wind picked it up and spun it back over his shoulder, catching the bird and making it fly.

  Tristan frowned as he watched it, surprised by the lift it was getting, like some spirit was controlling the airflow that day. The crane twirled and danced, shooting up and over the wall towards the carriage courtyard.

  Tristan snickered and decided to follow it. He’d rather have his crane disintegrating in a tree than be read by some visitor on a castle tour. Working his way back around, he hurried to the courtyard and slowed to a stop when he spotted his crane on the ground…next to a wheelchair.

  Long, elegant fingers clutched the metal rim of the wheels as the owner stared down at the crane.

  Tristan’s lips parted as his gaze traveled up her slender jean-clad legs to her pale pink sweater…and braid of golden hair…

  Suddenly he forgot how to breathe.

  Tipping her head like a sparrow’s, she reached for the crane with trembling fingers.

  His heart, Helena’s heart, began to pound so hard and fast his chest hurt.

  Her perfect lips parted, her green eyes growing wide as she read his note on the wings. She still hadn’t glanced up to find him; her eyes were locked on the paper, her bottom lip quivering as she reread the words. It was like she couldn’t make herself believe it.

  Tristan could sense her fears and slowly stepped towards her, still fighting for air as he closed the three-year gap between them.

  He was less than a foot from her when she glanced up with a
gasp. Her eyes brimmed with tears that quickly fell.

  Tristan crouched beside her wheelchair and brushed them away with a shaky thumb.

  “Hear my soul speak,” he whispered. “The very instant I saw you, did my heart fly to your service.”

  She let out a breathy laugh and replied, “Don’t you mean my heart?”

  Before either of them could utter another word, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. The arm of her chair dug into his stomach, but he wasn’t moving for the world. Her fingers bunched his shirt as she softly cried against his shoulder.

  “When I saw that crane come fluttering down, I wanted so badly to believe it, but didn’t know if I could.” Finally pulling away from him, she held his face, her gaze shimmering like fairy lights as she brushed her fingers down his cheek. “I promised myself I’d leave you alone. Even after your note, I convinced myself that you’d be better off without me. I knew the only way you’d ever find me was if fate played a hand.”

  Tristan’s face buckled with confusion. “How could I ever be better off without you?”

  She looked down at her paralyzed legs and shook her head. “I’m a burden.”

  Tristan leaned back and gazed down at her. Running his hand lightly over her thigh, he denied her claim with a simple smile. “Never. I will never see you that way.”

  Her eyes glistened and she gave him another trembling smile.

  “Besides, look at you. You’re here in this amazing castle. You’re not letting life stop you from doing anything.”

  “I almost did, but I couldn’t give up when I was carrying your heart. It’s a big responsibility.” She smiled. “I knew I wanted to come here, but I lacked the courage. It’s taken me a long time to realize that not being able to walk doesn’t make life impossible. And shutting myself off from the world wasn’t making me feel better. Aunt Sylvie promised me she’d bring me here as soon as I was ready.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, she indicated with a little raise of her chin. Tristan whipped around and spotted Helena’s aunt, her wide-eyed surprise almost comical.