As we exchanged a brief conversation, my mind boggled. I couldn’t believe it. Rogue really was Zoe. But still, I reminded myself, she had no idea who I really was. She didn’t know I was homeless.
And I planned on keeping it that way.
31.
Rogue2015: Sorry, only one move tonight.
BlackKNIGHT: Hot date?
Rogue2015: Wow, you don’t hold back, do you? I’m going to have to take your knight because of that.
BlackKNIGHT: You don’t hold back either. I knew you were going to do that, though.
Rogue2015: Sure.
BlackKNIGHT: You know, you don’t have to tell me if you have a date.
Rogue2015: I don’t have a date.
BlackKNIGHT: I’m not sure I believe you.
Rogue2015: Try.
BlackKNIGHT: :-) I’m working on it. I’ll try not to be jealous.
Rogue2015: Funny. I can hear your sarcasm through the computer.
BlackKNIGHT: No sarcasm here. I can understand why someone might want you all to himself.
Rogue2015: You’re delusional.
BlackKNIGHT: You’re going to miss me.
Rogue2015: It’s just a movie with some friends.
BlackKNIGHT: Wait. Is he going to be there? The boy?
Rogue2015: Yes.
BlackKNIGHT: See? I told you he wants to know you.
Rogue2015: It’s just a movie.
BlackKNIGHT: What movie?
Rogue2015: A slasher film.
BlackKNIGHT: Scary. Have fun!
Rogue2015: I will. Good night.
BlackKNIGHT: You’re missing me already.
Rogue2015: Good night!
32.
ZOE
The grin wouldn’t leave my face. First, Jackson and his words, his steady gaze and his warm fingers. And then BlackKNIGHT. It was something I’d never had before. Someone who was interested in me romantically and as a friend.
Gina’s social experiment was working out pretty well.
On my way to the living room, I ran into Dad in the hallway.
“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice low. He glanced to the living room. “Sounds like you’re having fun.”
I nodded. “We are.”
“So…everything okay?”
By everything, I knew he meant my anxiety. He’d never seemed to understand it before. But since Gina had started coming, my dad had been around more, too. It was kind of nice he was acknowledging how hard this was for me. How hard it had been.
“I think so,” I said. He nodded, looking uncertain. “It’s getting there.”
“Best we can hope for sometimes, right?”
“Right.”
We passed in the hallway, and I walked the rest of the way to the living room.
Mae stood in front of the large television, the remote in her hand. Robert occupied Dad’s chair in the corner, and Kelly curled up on one end of the couch with Jackson on the opposite side.
Plenty of room for me directly in the middle. Embarrassment started to creep in again.
I thought I heard Jackson chuckle, but I didn’t look at him.
“All right.” Mae gestured to the screen. “What we have right here is prom night from hell. There will be blood, there will be cheesy lines, and there will be death. No candy bets this time. Loser, the one furthest from getting the right answer, cleans up the mess and that’s it. Zoe, your job is to guess how many people get slashed—”
“Or killed in any way,” Robert said.
Mae nodded. “Place your wager. How many people are going to die on prom night?”
“Six,” Kelly said immediately.
Robert glanced at her with a laugh. “Seriously? You have far too much faith in the average American teen slasher film. There are typically at least two deaths due to stupidity.”
“The hilarious sidekick friend with goofy glasses always dies, too.” Mae smiled sweetly at Jackson. “No offense.”
He laughed and shoved a hand through his already unruly hair. “No offense taken. Because you’re right.” When he lowered his hand, it rested between us on the crack of the cushions. “I’m going with ten.”
My heartbeat picked up. I didn’t miss Mae’s secretive smile or the way my body responded to Jackson’s hand just inches from mine.
Robert considered for another minute, then said, “A dozen. Seven girls and five guys. Maybe a cat.”
“You’re disgusting,” Mae answered. “I’m saying nine. Right in the middle. Zoe?”
Everyone looked at me. My heart pounded. “Seventeen.”
“Holy shit,” Robert burst out, making me tense. “This isn’t a shark movie.”
Then everyone laughed, and my hands curled tightly at my sides. Every noise around me sounded louder. My cheeks burned hotter.
“I like the way you think,” Robert continued.
For a moment, I still couldn’t breathe. Then I realized none of them were laughing at me. They were just having fun. And who cared if I said a high number? That’s what Gina would tell me.
I ventured a smile at Jackson.
He said, “Shark movies always have a higher body count.”
I nodded like I was fully aware of this.
Mae walked to the same chair Robert sat in, plopped right in his lap, and started the movie. Her position made me overly aware of how close Jackson was to me. That I’d only have to scoot a foot to the left and our thighs would touch. I craved that contact so badly, but I was too afraid to do anything but watch the movie.
The opening credits already provided enough blood to make Robert cheer, and when a cat ran around the house in the first scene, he said, “That cat’s a goner.”
We all groaned. Kelly threw popcorn at him. I leaned forward to grab my drink off the coffee table and take a sip. When I leaned back, Jackson’s arm was there, warm and solid behind me.
My throat dried. I wanted to reach for my drink again, but at the same time I didn’t want to move. I was afraid he’d take his arm away.
As the movie continued, I relaxed, sinking into the cushions. When the main character walked to her car alone after a school pep rally, Jackson booed her, and Mae threw popcorn at the screen.
“Next thing you know, she’s going to trip,” Mae said.
Sure enough, the main character glanced over her shoulder when she heard a noise, started running, and promptly tripped, twisting her ankle.
Kelly snickered. “Dumb move, Alisha.”
“I don’t think she’s going to make it,” Jackson said to me.
“Not at this rate,” I answered, shooting him a grin.
He pulled his arm from behind me and clasped my hand in his, keeping his eyes on the screen. I held my breath, absorbing the strength of his fingers. And soon, it was normal again. Jackson next to me, with his hand around mine. I could almost picture going out with him at night to see the meteors. Lying on a blanket under the stars and being a regular teenager.
Halfway through the movie, Kelly was out of the game. Mae shot me a smile and gave me a goofy thumbs-up when she saw Jackson’s hand linked with mine, making me roll my eyes.
Soon Mae and Jackson were out of the running as well, and we were rooting for people to die so I could win. It was horrible to cheer when someone died, but I wanted to win. This was one of the best nights of my life.
“If you get one more, you’ll be closest,” Jackson said when I leaned forward on the couch.
“Dude,” Robert said with a laugh. “The chick is the only one left. They’re not going to kill off the main character.”
“There’s still that geeky cop,” Kelly reminded us.
Mae threw popcorn toward the couch. “Shh!”
The killer came around the corner with a knife. Jackson moved his hand to my knee, fingers warm when he squeezed.
The cop appeared out of nowhere and the killer knocked the gun out of his hand. We cheered when Alisha, our heroine, grabbed the gun.
“Shit. She’s going to kill him,” Robert s
aid.
Mae smacked his arm, glancing to the hallway which led to my parents’ bedroom. But they hadn’t come out so far despite our ruckus. Either they were somehow sleeping through this, or they had their own television up loud enough to block out most of Robert’s cursing and the general mayhem of homicide.
After a few cheesy last words, Alisha aimed the gun and fired. She got the killer in the arm, and he stumbled. She fired off another shot. The killer collapsed in a heap. Her shoulders drooped in relief, and she dropped to her knees, letting the gun clatter to the floor.
“He’s not dead,” Jackson and I said at the same time.
He grinned at me and proceeded to run his finger in slow circles on my knee. My heart hummed.
As expected, the killer wasn’t dead. In a last burst of unnatural and bloody vengeance, the Prom Night Slasher jumped on Alisha, using his bare hands to strangle her. But the cop came to the rescue, saving Alisha and retrieving the gun to shoot the killer in the forehead.
“Nice,” Kelly said.
Jackson and I cheered at the same time Robert cheered.
“Dude,” Jackson said to him. “You didn’t win. Why are you celebrating?”
He dislodged Mae from his lap and stood, shaking his head. “He was the killer. He doesn’t count.”
Kelly stood as well. “The rules say anyone who dies. We count every single dead body.”
“No way! He’s the one doing the killing.”
Mae stood, raising the remote to get our attention. “Vote.”
Robert groaned.
“Quiet,” Mae demanded. “All those who think the killer dying counts as a dead body?”
Everyone but Robert raised their hands.
Mae grinned and looked at Robert. “All those opposed?”
With a growl, Robert scooped Mae up and threw her over his shoulder, declaring, “I need ice cream!”
Her laughter rang out as they raced to the kitchen.
Kelly sighed. “I bet six people. I lost. Bad.”
She started collecting plates and then the popcorn on the floor. I stooped automatically to help her, and Jackson followed, getting to his knees on the carpet.
“You won. You don’t have to clean,” he said, stacking cups on the coffee table.
“I don’t mind.” When he snatched a plate before I could grab it, I smiled at him. “Does the winner get anything?”
“You get to pick the next movie,” Kelly said, grabbing another handful of popcorn off the floor.
Jackson leaned back on his heels. “Mae’s won the last three times in a row, so we’re all secretly very happy right now.”
He took off his glasses to clean them on the hem of his shirt, and I watched those long, deft fingers as they rubbed circles on the lenses. My throat dried. I had a mouthful of words for him, but I couldn’t say any of them.
“I’m not that blind,” he murmured. “I can see you staring at me.”
I straightened, blushed, and then stood, mumbling, “Sorry,” before grabbing a stack of plastic plates and turning toward the kitchen.
“Zoe, wait,” Jackson said, hopping up and hurrying after me. “It was a joke.”
Kelly plucked the plates from my hands, leaving me completely useless.
“Come outside with me,” Jackson suggested. “Just to the balcony.”
“Ice cream.” Now I felt like an even bigger idiot. “I mean, Mae probably needs help.”
“You can’t help her.”
“What? Why?”
“Those are the rules. If you win the body count game, you’re not allowed to do any work. We just let you help clean up the popcorn and plates because this is your first time. You’re not allowed to do any work for the rest of the night.”
“But—”
“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t argue. Rules are rules, right? And you don’t want to break the rules.”
When he smiled at me, I definitely did want to break the rules. He was making it sound so enticing. In fact, right now I wanted to do whatever Jackson said because I just wanted to be with him.
“Outside,” Jackson said again, grabbing my hand. “Please.”
I let him tug me to the back doors, out to the tepid night air with lights all around us. I could see the glow from Coors Field, where there was some kind of event tonight, and Pepsi Center, which was putting on a throwback concert. Farther in the distance, I spotted the lights from Elitch’s, which used to be a Six Flags amusement park, and Invesco Field where the Broncos played.
I’d hardly been to any of these places. Until recently I hadn’t minded. Now, with Jackson standing next to me, I felt like the world was beckoning. It was a huge, blank piece of paper, just waiting for me. The possibilities were endless, and I was stuck.
“You look sad,” Jackson said.
I dug deep for courage and walked to the ledge of the balcony. The wind ruffled my hair as I stared across the city.
I still couldn’t find words. Sometimes feelings were too big for words.
Jackson stood next to me. “You’re a natural.”
“At predicting the murderous tendencies of a homicidal maniac?”
He nodded. “Smart, too. I’m lucky.”
I ducked my chin and tucked my fingers in the sleeves of my light T-shirt. “Why?”
“You haven’t kicked me out yet, even though I keep torturing you with math.”
“Well,” I mumbled. “You are pretty good at it.”
He laughed. “Torturing? Or math?”
“Math.”
Jackson angled his head. “Are you cold?”
“No.”
“You’re shivering.”
Nerves. Fear that I’d mess up the night somehow. Or fear that this whole day would crumble around me like it had never happened. Or fear that it all had happened and it never would again because I was too terrified to live my life.
Jackson shifted so his back was against the ledge. He reached for me. I almost tripped over his feet as he pulled me closer, but Jackson didn’t seem to care. He just held on tighter, arms around my waist.
“Tell me,” he whispered.
I couldn’t stop shivering, but I laid my cheek against his chest, curled my hands up to rest on his soft shirt, and closed my eyes. “It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”
“You want me to go first?” he asked.
Startled, I opened my eyes. Jackson’s hand touched my hair, brushing his fingers down the length of it in the back, making me close my eyes again.
“I used to look for you,” he said. “Whenever Mae would invite me over, I’d look for you because I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to see you. So I’d make excuses to go to the bathroom or get more water from the kitchen, hoping I’d run into you.”
“Really?”
His laughter rumbled in his chest. My heart danced in happy circles, even as my stomach churned with doubt.
“See?” he asked. “That sounds stupid saying it out loud, too, but it’s a fact. I wanted to see you, and I guess that doesn’t embarrass me because it’s just feelings. It’s…” I heard him swallow, felt the tension in his body when he continued. “My mom used to really live for the carpe diem mentality—she said life was too short to miss out on it.”
“Jackson…” I whispered. I’d forgotten about his mom. No, I’d set it aside. I hadn’t known Jackson well back then. I’d felt so bad for him, and then had to tell myself there was never anything I could do for him because I never saw him. Besides, I couldn’t even help myself.
“Your turn.”
I tipped my chin, looking up at his face. I wanted to know more about his mom. I didn’t want to talk about me; I wanted to know Jackson. I wanted more. “I bet you miss her…”
“I can’t talk about that right now,” he said.
I dropped my chin again, my heart breaking for him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Please. You’re being yourself, and that’s never something to apologize for.”
I tucked my hand
s against my chest as Jackson squeezed his arms tighter around me, blocking the wind.
“I’m scared to go outside,” I murmured. “I…okay, I’m scared of just about everything, but mostly social situations. Talking to people. Being around people. Going places that—that make me uncomfortable, which is basically everywhere. I’m…I’m worried what I’m going to say is wrong—that everything I do is wrong.”
His hand brushed my hair again. “How long has it been since you left your apartment?”
“I checked the mail,” I said, trying at a joke. “You saw me. So, not too long.”
I heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Before that.”
“Over a year.”
“You haven’t gone out at all? Not for doctor’s appointments or for a walk?”
Dread spiked through me. This was why I hadn’t wanted to say anything. Now he knew what kind of person I was. How ridiculous it was that I was scared to even take a walk in my own city.
“It’s stupid, I know.” I eased back. “I can’t help it.”
“Zoe,” Jackson said.
A thousand emotions traveled across his face.
Thankfully, Mae appeared at the door. “Plain ice cream?” she asked, holding up a plastic cup. “Or a root beer float?”
I shook my head, walking to her with a forced smile. “No, thanks.” My stomach twisted into a hard knot of stress. “I don’t feel very well.”
Mae’s eyes met mine, understanding in their depths. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words. She usually questioned them or said something like, “It’s all in your head.”
In a way, it was. If I could just control my thoughts, my worries, the world, I wouldn’t feel like this. But I was out of control, and there was nothing left but to shut myself in my room until it all went away.
Jackson followed us back inside, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. I said good night to everyone and hid in my bedroom, sitting on the floor with my back against the door until I heard their voices fade and I was alone again.
Why couldn’t I be more like Mae or Jackson, free to say whatever I was feeling?
Because I was just Zoe, and most of the time I didn’t even know who she was.
33.
JACKSON
Paper Girl Page 13