Paper Girl

by Cindy R. Wilson

  Tell her. My mom’s voice bloomed in my head as Zoe went on to explain the heart. We’d already been at it for twenty minutes, and I didn’t think I’d retained a word she’d said. Not when she sat so close.

  Get it out in the open. Clear the air. She deserves to know.

  My mom was right. Zoe did deserve to know.

  I looked over at her, her tiny fingers forming another fold in the heart, and froze inside. I couldn’t say anything.

  “Got it?” Zoe asked.

  I hurried to make another fold, knowing I’d already messed it up beyond repair. Zoe was a patient teacher, but she had to know my heart wasn’t going to stand up to hers.

  She only smiled at me. “Looks good.”

  “Liar.”

  She chuckled. “Trust me. My first one looked pretty horrible. And the second one…and the tenth one.” She shifted in her seat, then glanced at me. “Do you go to the library a lot?”

  My breath caught. I managed to keep my fingers steady on the paper heart, but my real heart wasn’t as steady.

  “The library?” I asked, like I had no clue what she was talking about, even though I was pretty sure this was a BlackKNIGHT reference.

  Zoe nodded. “Yeah. It’s just—I have a friend…I mean, Mae’s friend…who said he went to the library a lot. And we—we were joking that boys his age never go to the library. But—but—” She broke off and shook her head. “It was just a joke.”

  I tried to relax in my seat. She didn’t suspect I was BlackKNIGHT, did she?

  But this would be the perfect time to tell her.

  I swallowed. The perfect time to ruin the whole evening.

  “I go sometimes,” I said, hating that I had to lie. I practically lived at the library. Wasn’t that what I’d said as BlackKNIGHT?

  “Well, of course you do.” Zoe smiled. “Because you like to read. But normal kids your age…” She shrugged. “It’s nothing. Never mind.”

  Before I could open my mouth again, she swiveled to face me. She held up the heart. “See? That’s the last step.”

  I frowned at my paper. “Mine doesn’t look like yours.”

  “Practice,” she said. “Remember? You said practice makes perfect.”

  I grinned. “You know exactly what I was talking about.”

  Her cheeks turned red. “Jackson.”

  “Show me.”

  Zoe’s eyes widened. “What?”

  I laughed, realizing she thought I meant the kissing thing. I pointed to her heart. “Show me how you do the 3-D part.”

  “Oh.” She almost dropped the heart then gave a nervous laugh. “You just open this end up a little…”

  She put her lips to the microscopic hole in the end of her heart and blew. It inflated and formed a 3-D pink heart, as perfect as the one she’d given me.

  “I’m not sure I’m ever going to be able to do that,” I said.

  “You will. It takes time.”

  The understanding in her eyes, how calm she seemed right now, boosted my courage. I’d tell her right now. I’d explain how I had no idea she was Rogue in the beginning, and that it was just a coincidence. A crazy coincidence my mom would say was meant to be. I was meant to meet Zoe.

  And then she’d ask about me being homeless, and the whole universe would come crumbling down on me.

  I opened my mouth, but another knock sounded at the door. Zoe rolled her eyes.

  This time it was Mae who came in, balancing two plates of what looked and smelled like brownies.

  “Mom wanted me to deliver these to you and tell you—like you didn’t already know—there are a lot more in the kitchen,” Mae said.

  She set the plates on the desk with us, then gave me a sly smile. “Have you checked out Mercury yet?”

  My gaze shot automatically to the planet, and then to Zoe when she stood and gave Mae a playful shove. “Thanks for the brownies.”

  Mae caught my eye again with a grin. “I think Zoe was wondering what the gravity on Mercury was like—”

  “I already asked him that,” Zoe said, shoving Mae toward the door.

  Mae slapped a hand over her mouth, and then stumbled out the door when Zoe pushed her again. She started to say something else, but Zoe shut the door in her face.

  “Did I miss something?” I asked.

  “No.” But Zoe blushed anyway. “Mae was just joking. Brownies,” she blurted. “I bet they’re really good.”

  My bubble of courage burst. I couldn’t tell her now. We were talking paper hearts and brownies and planets, not serious things like our real identities.

  I pointed to the speaker I’d heard her call Cyclops before lifting the brownie to my mouth. “What kind of music are you supposed to listen to when you make paper hearts?”

  She smiled. “Something without catchy lyrics. Because then you get distracted and focus more on the song than the heart.”

  “So, boring music?” I waved my hand toward her wall and the ceiling. “You listened to boring music to make all this?”

  “Not boring music. And I listened to different music for almost everything. You—you can’t just cut and fold paper and get a masterpiece. It takes time, and the right atmosphere.” She pointed to the sun. “Alternative rock. Because I needed energy for all those pieces. And because, well—it’s the sun. But Earth. That was some indie stuff. More mellow. Earth was fun.”

  “Was Uranus country?” I asked. “Because personally, I’ve never been a fan of that planet. It leaves a lot to be desired.”

  Her laughter warmed me, and I fought off any more urges I had to tell her about BlackKNIGHT. What was the point if it was just going to screw things up anyway?

  “Maybe you can help me with a meteor,” she said, standing and stretching.

  “Right now?”

  “Another time, maybe. After all this food, I need to get up and move around.” She glanced at the window, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips. “I wish we could go for a walk.”

  I moved aside my plate. “We could.” I reached for her hand, locking my fingers with hers. “Something short, close by.”

  Doubt registered on her face.

  “We could go get coffee or something, and then drink it on our walk.”

  Her mouth opened. I thought, for a moment, she might say yes.

  “There’s a Starbucks just down the street,” I told her, in case she didn’t already know. I’d even been there once or twice after leaving Zoe’s house.

  She nodded. “I hear they have really good banana bread.”

  Another jolt went through me. “They do,” I answered carefully.

  Her eyes met mine. “I’m…I want to, but I’m not there yet. I need a little more time.”

  I tried not to show my disappointment. I got it. She needed to take her steps and work up to it.

  I nodded and squeezed her hand. “Another time, maybe. But…the meteor shower. Maybe we can plan for that?”

  I almost held my breath. This was a big deal for her. These were important steps.

  “I think…” She exhaled. “I think that would be good.”

  I pulled her into my arms and rested my hand on her hair, the soft strands tickling my fingers. “It’ll be fun,” I told her. “And I’ll be there the whole time.”

  I’d make it fun for her. I wanted to show her life outside her apartment was worth living.

  You should tell her now.

  I continued to hold on to Zoe, and for the first time, I ignored my mom’s voice.

  43.

  BlackKNIGHT: I’m pretty sure I’m at chess master status now.

  Rogue2015: Why do you say that?

  BlackKNIGHT: Because I beat you two out of the last three games.

  Rogue2015: Bragging is strictly forbidden in the game of chess.

  BlackKNIGHT: Did you just make up that rule?

  Rogue2015: No. Everyone knows that rule. So, clearly, you aren’t at chess master status yet.

  BlackKNIGHT: What other rules am I missing?

&nb
sp; Rogue2015: If you lose five games in a row, you’re locked out of the site for a whole week so you can study up on technique and do better.

  BlackKNIGHT: Really? I think I might’ve lost that many games in a row before.

  Rogue2015: And if you win five games in a row, you get to play with the golden chess set.

  BlackKNIGHT: Really? Is that what you’re playing on?

  Rogue2015: Yep, you just don’t get to see it from your side.

  BlackKNIGHT: That’s not fair.

  Rogue2015: And if you win ten games in a row, you get a personal email from the chess master himself, Rupert Flintlock.

  BlackKNIGHT: I don’t think I’ve heard of him. I’m Googling that right now.

  Rogue2015: LOL. You do that.

  BlackKNIGHT: Wait…are you just messing with me? About Rupert Flintlock?

  Rogue2015: Maybe.

  BlackKNIGHT: About everything?

  Rogue2015: What? You don’t think I’m playing on a golden chessboard?

  BlackKNIGHT: No, I don’t. I think you made it all up. I bet you just broke a dozen chess rules right there.

  Rogue2015: How would you know? Maybe you should look it up. :-)

  BlackKNIGHT: What I’m going to do is beat you at this game, just to show you how funny I think your joking is.

  Rogue2015: Judging by how you’re playing this game so far, you think it’s pretty funny.

  BlackKNIGHT: Be prepared to lose your number one ranking.

  Rogue2015: We’ll see about that.

  BlackKNIGHT: Hey, Rogue.

  Rogue2015: Yeah?

  BlackKNIGHT: Do you think sometimes it’s better to keep a secret instead of telling someone if you think it’ll hurt them? Or you?

  Rogue2015: That’s a serious question.

  BlackKNIGHT: I know. But there’s someone I don’t want to hurt.

  Rogue2015: When you care about someone, I think it’s better to do what you think is best for them. And for yourself. For both of you.

  BlackKNIGHT: That makes me feel better. I don’t like hurting people.

  Rogue2015: Me, either. But it seems like we do it no matter how hard we try sometimes, huh?

  BlackKNIGHT: We do. But not this time.

  Rogue2015: You’re smart. And nice. I’m sure you’re doing the right thing.

  BlackKNIGHT: Thank you. I hope so.

  44.

  ZOE

  “I can’t do this. I’m nervous.”

  “We’re not doing anything yet. Just math,” Jackson said, eyes smiling.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Why?”

  Always endlessly asking why. That was Jackson. He wanted the answer to everything, even when the answer didn’t make sense.

  I squeezed the pencil I was holding. “We’re going out of the house this afternoon. I know it, and my stomach knows it. It—it makes me nervous. Really nervous, even if it isn’t happening for a while.” I ventured a glance up at him. “That’s sort of how it works.”

  Jackson tapped the paper in front of me. “This is supposed to distract you.”

  “Seriously? Math?” I glared at the problems he’d written down as a sort of pretest. “Other things distract me. Math just tortures me and makes me feel worse.”

  “Other things,” Jackson said. When I glanced over again, he smiled. “What other things?”

  Fire burned in my cheeks. I focused intently on the math problems. “No other things.”

  “Zoe, Zoe, why?”

  I wouldn’t look at him. “Why what?”

  “Why won’t you just accept it?”

  My breath wheezed out. “Accept…what?”

  His arm slid over, brushing the paper aside. He grasped my hand before I could move it, fingers entwining with mine. “Accept your feelings. You like having me here.”

  The world spun around me like a merry-go-round. Like the moons of Saturn when I’d spin them so they’d orbit the planet.

  “Accept it,” Jackson continued. “Accept it, and then kiss me, so I know you feel the same way as I do.”

  I suffocated on my own shock.

  “Breathe, Zoe.”

  I shook my head, heart hammering, mind zooming with amazement, whole body thrumming with possibilities and the need to simply be near him. How come Gina hadn’t told me this might happen, or Mae, so I could be prepared? Kissing Jackson was like the dreams I used to have about flying. Exhilarating. And now he wanted more of it.

  “Otherwise I’ll have to do CPR,” Jackson said.

  With a laugh, I squeezed my fingers around his.

  “Talk to me,” he said.

  “I can’t believe you just said that. Who talks like that?”

  “I do.”

  “I…” Glancing up at him, I gave an apologetic look. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

  “I just made you more nervous. Okay, one step at a time. First, you do this math test so I can see how you’re progressing. Then, we get the others and go shopping for meteor shower supplies. And then…then there won’t be pressure.”

  “There’s always pressure.”

  “If we were never anxious about anything, some things wouldn’t mean quite as much as they do when they happen.” He brushed my hair off my cheek. “Right?”

  A flicker of frustration raced through me. Even Jackson wanted more from me—wanted me to leave the house. In this way, I kind of wished he were more like BlackKNIGHT. That he’d just accept me as I was.

  His phone rang before I could answer. He pulled it out of his pocket, peeked at the screen, and frowned. When he returned the phone without answering, I looked up at him.

  “It was your dad, wasn’t it?”

  His jaw flexed. He pulled off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. “He keeps calling.”

  “And you don’t answer?”

  “I don’t… No, I don’t answer.” He returned his glasses to his face. “Ready for your test?”

  “What if it’s something important?”

  “He left a message. It’s nothing urgent.”

  “Urgent and important aren’t the same thing.” Carefully and slowly, I reached out and placed both hands on his chest. “You’re helping me. I want to help you.”

  His eyes searched mine, a depth of understanding there I hadn’t expected. “You are one of the most important people I know. But I need time.”

  I blinked back moisture. It wasn’t my place to be sad about this—he didn’t seem to be. But I couldn’t help it. Why couldn’t he understand that he needed more than an alcoholic parent who was never there for him?

  He needed family.

  He needed a good home.

  That made me think of BlackKNIGHT and his words that night he’d stepped away from our match. How he’d talked about his bright side being home. Why did I keep thinking about BlackKNIGHT when I was around Jackson, and the other way around?

  “I’ll do my test,” I said, turning to the desk.

  Jackson sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. It’s none of my business. Ready to time me?”

  “I’m ready,” he said, resignation in his voice. “Go.”

  I put pencil to paper and focused. I could do this. I understood this. I did the first four problems without a hitch. Jackson wandered to the window and stared out at the sunny day.

  Then I got lost in another problem and forgot about the time. I just kept working. My mind circled around all the concepts Jackson had taught me the last several days. When I couldn’t figure something out, I’d close my eyes and visualize, and see Jackson calmly explaining the process in a reasonable voice. In a reasonable way.

  Once I finished the last problem, I looked at Jackson. He’d turned around and he was staring at me.

  He grinned. “Are you finished?”

  I held up the test. “Easy peasy.”

  “We’ll see.” He walked over, took the paper, and settled into a relaxed stance. He propped his hip on the desk and read through the problems, making noises under his
breath. “Nice handwriting.”

  “Keep grading.”

  “You show your work in neat little columns,” he said, eyes on the paper. “Your numbers are like soldiers, perfectly lined up.”

  I lifted my eyebrows.

  “You only missed one,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “A hard one. We’ll go over it next week so you’re prepared. You did good.”

  “You’re a good teacher.”

  “I am?” Jackson moved closer so our shoes were touching. “Care to show some gratitude?”

  My heart raced. I froze for nearly five seconds, afraid to make the move. Then I stepped forward so our bodies touched.

  His arms came around me, hands locked behind my back, and I lifted my arms to wrap around his neck.

  Jackson exhaled, like he was releasing a day’s worth of stress. His breath touched my lips, but before I could move, his mouth was on mine. It was slower, sweeter than the first time. I shut off my brain, even though it wanted to analyze.

  Jackson made it easy. He let his fingers wander, dancing up my spine and then winding into my hair. A shiver ran through me as he pressed closer.

  “You’re getting really good at this,” he murmured against my lips.

  I released a quiet laugh. I didn’t agree, but right now I didn’t care. Jackson felt too good. Everything I was feeling right now was good.

  And then Jackson pointed to the door. “Are you ready for this?”

  My heart clutched. “Outside?”

  “Don’t focus on the scary things.” He brushed his lips against mine, distracting me from his words. “Focus on the good things. All the things you get to see. All the people you get to walk past. Focus on me.”

  Even though nerves fluttered through me, I was excited. For once, I was looking forward to leaving the house. As long as Jackson was with me, I felt like I could go anywhere and do anything.

  What would Gina say? That I could do this. That I was making progress. But then…then she’d say I needed to try to do this on my own.

  That meant not being able to lean on Jackson.

  I wasn’t sure I was ready for that yet.

  45.

  JACKSON

  I watched her closely, her slender fingers touching items in the aisle as we loaded up our baskets with food for tonight. We’d walked to the local market because Zoe and Mae agreed taking the bus to the grocery store was a panic attack waiting to happen.