But I kept her hand locked in mine the whole way and tried to point out everything I could that might make her smile. Which she seemed to be doing a lot.
I found a pair of sunglasses on a rack nearby and handed them to her. “Try these on.”
She jumped, and then laughed, and then blushed, and then took the glasses. “Sorry.”
I only smiled. “Please?”
She put the glasses on. They were large, Audrey Hepburn style, engulfing half her face. Like the ones my mom used to wear to block out as much sun as possible.
“These would be good. You’ll need something when you go out.”
She pulled off the glasses and rolled her brown eyes. “I’m sure I have a pair of sunglasses somewhere at home. Probably.”
“And if you don’t?” I plucked the sunglasses from her hand and set them in my basket. “I’m buying these for you.”
Her humor faded. “Jackson.”
“I want to.”
She tried to grab my basket, but I held it out of her reach.
“I’ll buy the glasses.”
With a laugh, I held it higher. “No.”
“Yes. I’ll buy all that. Just…” She glanced around and then clutched her hand at her chest like her heart was aching.
“It’s just a few things for tonight and one thing for you. I want to contribute to the cause. Are you okay?”
Her hands squeezed together tightly, turning white, and she ignored the question. “I’m…trying.”
I stepped forward to take her hand. “It’s okay. This is a happy day. You’re doing good.”
“You—you keep doing that.”
“What?”
“Trying to make me feel better. Trying to help me. But you won’t let me help you.” When I didn’t answer, she frowned, making wrinkle lines appear on her forehead. “Jackson.”
“You are so good at that.”
“Stop it.”
I laughed. “Feisty. I like it.”
Startled when she lunged for the basket, I yanked it back too hard, and all our stuff fell on the floor. Zoe’s eyes widened.
“Oh God.” She dropped to her knees to grab the items.
Mae came around the corner with Robert.
“Children,” he said. “Playtime isn’t until later.”
I laughed until I noticed the panic on Zoe’s face. Her cheeks burned red, and she scrambled across the floor to grab the sunglasses.
Setting the basket down, I joined her on my knees. “No big deal. Deep breath.”
She eased back on her heels, breathing in deeply.
Mae smiled at her. “It looks like you guys are doing more playing than buying.”
Zoe nodded, her face appearing calm even though her hands were curled into fists. “It’s just…Jackson isn’t cooperating.”
I met her eyes, willing her not to say anything.
“Cooperating with what?” Kelly asked.
Zoe clutched all the items she’d gathered to her chest and forced a smile. “He keeps putting things in our basket we don’t need. I mean, Twinkies? For a meteor shower?”
“Hell yes, we need Twinkies,” Robert said.
She grabbed the basket, keeping her grip tight on it so I wouldn’t try to take it away. She stood. “I guess we’d better grab the Twinkies, then.”
Before she could make her way down the aisle, I snagged her waist.
“Don’t you dare touch my basket,” she said, cheeks still flushed.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“You’re very frustrating sometimes, you know?”
I kissed her on the lips, right there in the middle of the store. She stood still like a statue, eyes wide.
“I know I’m frustrating,” I said.
She shook her head, eyes sad. “I have lots of things I want to say, but it’s hard.”
“You can say anything to me.”
She bit her lip, hand clenched tight on the basket handle. “Twinkies.”
“That’s what you want to say?”
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“How you feel. You can tell me how you feel.”
I expected her to say embarrassed. Or nervous. Or maybe even surprised this trip outside her apartment seemed to be working out so well.
“I’m sad. I want you to…” She ducked her chin. “I want you to call your dad. I want to help. I want you to talk to me.”
I stood still a long moment, as surprised by her words as she seemed to be.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and turned to the front of the store.
I watched as she joined her sister, both of them combining the items in their baskets. Zoe smiled at something Mae said, and it sent a shock of longing through me. She’d stepped out of her comfort zone even though it terrified her. She was brave.
I couldn’t even talk to her about my father.
I couldn’t call him back.
Maybe she wasn’t the one who needed help. Maybe it was me.
…
We didn’t see the first meteor shoot across the sky until well after midnight. But it was dazzling—a long, hot green tail that trailed behind the bright light. It was worth it to see Zoe’s face. The wonder there. She’d been able to relax the rest of the evening after we’d returned to her apartment building and brought our meteor viewing party to the rooftop.
I grabbed two more sodas from the cooler and brought one to Zoe on the blanket we’d set out. She lay on her back, head propped on one of the pillows her mom sent up with us.
“Drink?” I asked her.
“I’m so full, I don’t think I can. Thanks, though.” Another star shot across the sky. “That’s thirty-three.”
“You’re counting them?”
Even in the dimness of the evening, our area only lit by small lanterns, I could see her blush.
I reclined and reached for her hand. “I used to do the same thing.”
“How many times have you done this?”
“What?”
“Watched a meteor shower.”
“Two dozen maybe.”
She didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what she was thinking. I watched so many meteor showers because sometimes I had nothing else to do with my night. And I was outside anyway—or in my car, at least. But she didn’t know that part.
“I watched my first one with my mom,” I said.
She shifted onto her side so she could face me. The rest of the group chatted on another blanket. I heard the wrapper of a Twinkie and Kelly’s infectious laugh.
I reached out, taking Zoe’s hand again, and saw another star fly past. “Thirty-four. We did it just like this, with blankets on the ground in our backyard. Drinks and candy—enough to make us sick—but I loved it.”
“How old were you?”
“Six. I counted the meteors that night, too. Only twenty-six, though. I got tired and couldn’t stay up longer. Plus, Mom had to work the next day. But after that, it became a tradition until…”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I nodded.
“I’m glad you have so many good memories of her, though.”
“I listened to my dad’s message.”
Her lips parted.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, it was just…it wasn’t anything important.”
“Oh.”
“He wanted to remind me about the meteor shower, actually.”
She squeezed my hand. “I think you should call him.”
I didn’t tell her that I already had. And that I’d hung up. “I wonder if…he’s really ready to take this step. I mean, we’ve been here before. He went to rehab once, and it was fine for a few months. But it didn’t last any longer than that.”
She bit her lip, and then lay on her back to stare at the sky again. “Thirty-five.”
“Zoe.”
She didn’t answer.
I leaned over her. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
She had her glasses on, and I could see stars
and the moon reflected in the lenses. But I couldn’t see her eyes behind them or tell what was going on in her head.
“Zoe,” I prompted. “The truth, right? It’s okay to tell me how you feel.”
“I’m angry.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t want you to have to deal with this. I want you to go be okay with your dad, or be able to go somewhere else if that doesn’t work out. I want to feel like I’m worth giving advice on this.”
“You are. Your opinion is important to me.”
“I know I haven’t lived outside a lot. I know I haven’t made an impression on a lot of people, but—”
“That’s not true.”
Her words caught when she spoke again. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but it is true, and it’s about time I grew up and realized I need to do more than hide in my apartment every day.”
“You are growing up and doing more,” I said. I pointed at the rooftop. “Look. We’re outside. You’re outside, Zoe. And we went to the store today, too. And it was good.”
“I was with you,” she murmured.
“That’s okay, right?”
Zoe removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “It’s…okay. But not the best. Not ideal.”
She sounded like a therapist. Not ideal? Why not? “These are steps, right? What we talked about.”
She put her glasses on again before glancing at me. “They’re our steps. Not mine.”
“I can still be there for you,” I said.
“I have to try to do some things on my own,” she whispered.
“I know. And I can help.”
She made a noise of disagreement and then fell quiet. The night pressed in around us, and I wished I knew what to say.
It felt like walking on a tightrope. The truth was always what came to mind, but only because there seemed to be a lot left unsaid between us. Now Zoe knew all my secrets, which meant I should tell her the truth about Chess Challenge. But then she’d make comments like what she’d just said, and I realized how much I could lose if I told her the truth. How she might just back away for good because I knew who she really was in secret and in person. What else could I do to bridge the gap between us? To make her understand I wasn’t trying to take over, just trying to be here for her?
I reached for her hand, and she let me. We both kept silent while we counted the stars shooting over our heads. Normally it made me feel better to sit under the night sky, but tonight it made me feel like I was missing something before it ever started.
46.
Rogue2015: You ever feel like playing chess is just a way to escape the real world?
BlackKNIGHT: That’s okay, right? I mean, sometimes we all need a break from reality.
Rogue2015: Yeah, but then when you get back to reality, you realize how hard it is. All you want is to go back to the game.
BlackKNIGHT: A safe zone. I can understand that. I kind of like to escape here, too.
Rogue2015: From what?
BlackKNIGHT: Reality. Like you said. But when I go back to reality, I feel refreshed. Like I’m ready to face the world head on.
Rogue2015: I wish it worked that way for me. Instead I feel like I’m stepping out of my comfort zone.
BlackKNIGHT: We all have to do that sometimes. Even those of us who like reality. :-)
Rogue2015: I guess I should work on it.
BlackKNIGHT: How are you going to do that?
Rogue2015: I don’t know. I guess I’ll let you know when I figure it out.
BlackKNIGHT: I’ll be here.
Rogue2015: :-) I know you will.
BlackKNIGHT: And for what it’s worth, I like you just the way you are.
Rogue2015: Thanks.
47.
ZOE
He would. BlackKNIGHT would be there, just like my safe room, waiting for me to return. I wasn’t even being myself on Chess Challenge. BlackKNIGHT thought I was some regular girl from a cornfield somewhere, when really, I was hiding. Pretending to have a life. Was Jackson just another way to hide, too?
I couldn’t tell whether I was falling for him because I felt safe with him or because we had something more, beyond the comfortable bubble he was building.
“Zoe, do you still have the same goal for our sessions?” Gina asked as we talked in the study this morning.
“You mean to go to Mae’s graduation?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, I still want that.” I shifted in my seat, unable to get my mind off my conversation with BlackKNIGHT. Or my conversation with Jackson last night. That’s what really brought all this on. Knowing I was only stepping out of my comfort zone because of him. “And I want…”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to go to graduation?”
“Yes.”
“Because she expects you to?”
“No.”
“Because you said you would?”
“Yes. And no.”
“Explain.”
“That’s not a yes or no question.”
She smiled. “We’re not playing the yes or no question game this time. Explain your answer to me—this is important.”
“I want to go because…because it’s important to her. I promised I’d go, but I want to do it because I want to, not because I have to fulfill a promise. Because I…”
“Yes?”
“I’m tired of being scared.”
“And making decisions because of how scared you are.”
“Yes. I want…I don’t want to be defined by my fears anymore.”
Gina sat back in her seat and smiled. Really smiled. That’s when it hit me. I couldn’t rely on anyone to change my circumstances but me. Not even Jackson.
Once Gina left, I had to escape my study. My stomach churned with the realization of what I’d told Gina. I was the only one who could change my life. It felt freeing and terrifying at the same time. But I’d already started. I’d left the house this week. I’d gone grocery shopping and watched meteors, and I hadn’t had one panic attack.
Feeling empowered, I walked into the kitchen.
Mom looked up from her recipe book. “Hi. You want lunch?” Mom asked. “Udon or sushi. Or I could make California rolls.”
“That’s a lot of work.”
She looked hopeful. “Pizza?”
With a laugh, I sat on the stool across from her at the counter. “No, thanks.”
She shut her recipe book. “We could…go get something.”
I automatically opened my mouth to tell her no, but then stopped. I had to do this, right? Not on everyone else’s terms, though. On mine.
“Like go pick something up and bring it back here?” I asked.
“Or—or I could go and bring it back.”
“Or we could eat there,” I said.
She blinked then patted her shiny black hair. “Eat there.”
Like it was a foreign concept.
“I’m trying to…have a life.” Even if I wished Jackson were the one taking me to lunch. I missed him already, even though I’d seen him last night.
“I want a cheeseburger,” I said.
Mom smiled. “Cheeseburger. Yes. French fries. There’s a place a few blocks down. Mae and I used to go there after her practices all the time. Ooh! Girls’ lunch. We could go get manicures, too.”
My stomach rolled.
Mom gave me a gentle smile. “One thing at a time, right?”
I tried to take Gina’s advice. No stressing about going out because I couldn’t control what happened when I did. I’d keep telling myself it was just like taking a stroll around the house. I’d be fine.
Until my phone dinged with a message. I have a new test for you to take. Is it still okay to come by for tutoring after school?
Mom pointed at my phone. “Jackson?”
I nodded. “He was asking about tutoring. But I can just tell him we won’t be back in time. I think I understand algebra pretty well now. I think I’ll be okay
for my test.”
“Zoe.”
“What?”
“Are you avoiding him?”
I squeezed my palms around my phone. “What? Why would I do that?”
“You usually answer his texts right away. Did something happen?”
“No. I’m being my own person,” I said. If I answered his text right away, that just showed how much I relied on him, right?
My mom’s lips turned down at the corners. “Jackson is a good boy.”
He was good. But he was more than that. He was more than my mother saw, and yet everyone was still trying to change me. It wasn’t their responsibility. It was mine.
“We should go. So we can walk and enjoy the sun,” I told my mom.
She gave me a wide-eyed look. “Are you going to answer Jackson?”
I stared at my phone. I should. I didn’t want to be rude, but I didn’t know what to say. I wrote a quick answer and pressed send before I could change my mind. Another test sounds good.
Once I did this test, once I made sure I understood math enough, we could stop tutoring. It was for the best, right? I couldn’t depend on Jackson anymore.
I swallowed down the fear that jumped into my throat. I’d left the house for Jackson. I’d pretended like I was a regular teenager, but it was only because Jackson gave me the strength. I had to find that strength somewhere within myself, or I was never going to be able to live my life how I wanted.
Jackson’s message appeared. Looking forward to it.
Pocketing my phone, I put on a brave smile for my mom. “Let’s go.”
…
Lunch went better than I thought. Mom let me pick the restaurant and the table, and was fine with leaving early because things started to get hard. I realized if I kept taking steps like this, stepping out of my comfort zone but doing it in a way that worked for me, I might actually make it to Mae’s graduation. Only three weeks to go.
When we returned from lunch, carrying our leftovers, Jackson was in the lobby, sitting in the hideous middle chairs and looking completely comfortable while doing so. He stood when he saw us.
My feet stopped automatically. Jackson smiled when we joined him, his eyes crinkling. He had the same backpack he always carried and wore a T-shirt I often saw him in. I wondered where he went if he wasn’t at home much. Or was that why he always wanted to be here?
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