I sent Zoe another text, but heard nothing. Damn it. Why hadn’t Mae called me if something serious had happened? I needed to know what was going on.
It almost killed me to wait until school was over to get away. But the instant the last bell rang, I got into my car and headed in the direction of the King household.
My stomach churned the whole way. I should have been there with Zoe—watching out for her.
Inside at the front desk, the clerk greeted me.
“Can you call? See if it’s okay if I go up?”
“Of course,” he said.
He rang the Kings and announced that I was here. He listened for a moment, nodded, and said, “Of course. Have a good day.”
I waited, but he only smiled apologetically.
“Sorry, Mrs. King said they don’t want any visitors right now.”
“But…”
“Sorry.”
I backed away from the counter, lost. I needed to see Zoe. I needed to know she was okay. I pulled out my phone and texted her again.
Zoe? I’m downstairs. Are you okay?
Clenching my phone tightly in my hand, I waited at the chairs Zoe hated. I had a clear view of the elevators from there. But she didn’t appear and she didn’t answer my text.
Unable to think of another way to see her, I turned for the exit, feeling useless. Then the elevator opened behind me, and I whipped around.
Mae walked out, saw me, and headed straight over. “She’s not coming down.”
“Is she okay?”
Mae sighed and turned to the courtyard. We walked out together, both silent until we sat next to the spitting fountain.
“What happened?” I asked.
“She went to the art museum by herself,” Mae said. She stared at her hands. “They had a paper exhibit.”
I reached out, hesitantly touching her arm.
“I was frustrated with her because she just…” Mae sniffled. “She was upset about what was going on with you, and I saw her paper wall and all this new paper Mom got for her, and I was angry. I was angry and I took it out on her. So she went out by herself. She went to the museum to prove to me she was still living her life, and then she got lost on the way home and had a panic attack. It really scared her.”
I rubbed my hands over my face, realizing how much of a setback this could be for Zoe.
“She’s fine, she just doesn’t want to leave the apartment now. She was doing good and now she just wants to stay in her room.”
I stood, unable to sit still. “Maybe if I could talk to her—”
“She doesn’t want to talk. She won’t talk to me, either.”
“I could try. I could—”
“Mom won’t let you up. She doesn’t want to upset Zoe. It’s nothing against you, but I know she doesn’t want to see Zoe hurt.”
“I understand.”
But what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t leave, not without seeing Zoe.
Mae stood. “I’m sorry. Maybe you’d better just go home…or wherever…and let things cool down.”
I didn’t try to explain to her I’d moved back home. I only nodded and watched as she went back inside.
I wanted to run after her and hop into the elevator, but that would only make things worse. So I left the courtyard and walked to the revolving doors, leaving Zoe’s building without any clue how I was going to fix this. Or if I even could.
61.
BlackKNIGHT: I learned something new today.
BlackKNIGHT: You’re the bravest person I know. My mom would have loved you.
62.
ZOE
I knew Mom was really freaked out by my behavior when she asked Gina to come for a session this morning even though I wasn’t supposed to see her for a few days.
“It’s just a check-in,” Mom said as we waited for her to come up in the elevator. “In case you need to talk.”
Talk? I wasn’t sure how talking was going to help. But I guess if it made Mom feel better, and made her stop baking pounds of cookies and banana bread, then I’d do it. She’d even brought home more paper even though I hadn’t touched the last batch she gave me.
Gina entered with her typical smile, though I swear there was pity behind it.
“Should we get to it?” she asked right away.
“Absolutely,” Mom said.
“How about your study?”
I sighed and led Gina to my study. She wore a simple pair of jeans and red Converse, kind of like she hadn’t been expecting to meet with anyone. Her scarf was bright blue—the kind of color that made her stand out. That made people stare.
“You took down your paper wall,” Gina said, her eyes raking over the bare space.
“It was time for something new.”
Her eyes flicked to the wall again. It looked plain and sad, like a blank piece of paper.
I picked at the sleeve of my sweater, waiting for her to say something.
“Your mom told me what happened,” Gina said. “How are you doing?”
“Fine.”
“Really fine, or are you just saying that?”
I frowned but wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I’m really fine in here.”
“And outside?” Gina asked, walking to the window.
“Haven’t been outside since last week.”
“I can see why,” she said. “It makes sense to stay in here.”
When she didn’t continue, I looked up. She seemed to be enjoying the view outside the window, relaxed despite my discomfort.
“That’s all?” I asked. “No, ‘Zoe, you can’t let this stop you from living your life. There’s a whole world out there. It’s just one minor setback.’”
Gina smiled at me. “Is that what you think? This shouldn’t stop you from living your life?”
“In theory,” I mumbled.
“Ah…” Gina sighed. “In theory, life should be so much different. In theory, if we understand we legitimately can’t solve a problem, or it’s not our fault, we shouldn’t worry about it, right? But that’s not how life works.”
I nodded.
“I have another coffee story,” she said. “You want to hear it?”
“Sure.”
“This was when I was in college, too. I went out for coffee with friends one Saturday night, and I had to cross the campus to get home,” she continued. “Being the empowered young woman I was, I had my can of pepper spray ready just in case. And one of those whistles to blow for help. I took a self-defense class every year. But all that didn’t stop me from being jumped from behind. He had a knife. I tried to fight, but…” Gina smiled at me, even while I stood frozen by the wall. She pushed aside her scarf to reveal a jagged scar that ran down her neck to her collarbone. “It almost killed me.”
Mouth dry, I could only stare at the scar. It looked painful even this many years later. How had I not noticed it before? No wonder she always wore a scarf.
“In theory,” she continued, “moving to another campus should have made me feel safe. Only going out during the day should have made me feel safe. Always walking places with someone else should have made me feel safe. But it wasn’t enough. So, I quit school, and I didn’t feel safe. It was a chain reaction of useless solutions. In theory, I should have been able to work through it and move on. But that’s not how life works. So, screw theories.”
She readjusted the scarf to cover the scar.
“How did you move on?” I asked.
She tapped her finger against her lips, thinking. “I had to take my life back. One day at a time. I made myself go to the store alone. I started school again. I made myself walk to my car at night. And so on. Things are going to happen no matter how much we prepare for the worst. But in the meantime, we’re denying ourselves all the good we can have in our lives if we hide from it. Sounds cliché, but sometimes the simplest solution is to just keep going.”
I thought about Jackson, and how he had kept going even after his mom had died. He was talking to his dad again, and I was proud of
him. But that was Jackson. He was stronger than me.
Gina gestured to my wall. “I think like…scenes from old monster movies would be awesome. You know, paper Frankenstein and some zombies. Nosferatu. The Thing.”
I laughed. “Maybe…I’ll take a break from the paper art for a while.”
She smiled. “If that’s what you think is best. And maybe next time we have a session, you can come to my office instead.”
I blew out a slow breath. “I think I’d like to try that.”
…
Later that night, I sat in my room with my laptop, staring at the screen. Chess Challenge. I had a few messages from BlackKNIGHT. He’d even made his next move on our match. But what was I supposed to say to him?
I’d pushed him away when what I really should have been doing was trying to find a balance. I wanted him in my life, and I couldn’t just back off every single time he tried to be there for me. That’s who Jackson was, and that’s part of why I loved him.
My heart squeezed tight in my chest. Love. I loved Jackson.
A knock sounded at my door.
“Come in.”
Mae walked in carrying a plate covered with slices of banana bread. “Mom made me bring it.” She set the plate on the end table by my bed and lingered. “Do you want me to go?”
“You can stay,” I said before even thinking about it. I missed Mae.
She smiled and sat on the bed. “I’m really sorry for what I said that day.”
“You just told me how you felt.”
“Yes, but still. I feel bad. So does Jackson. I kind of just want to stay home with you this year. We could homeschool together. College homeschool.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Yes. Then we could tease Mom all day and get fat on her scones. Make YouTube videos with funny voices and wait for them to go viral.”
I laughed. “You don’t want to do that. And you know what? Neither do I.”
“You don’t want to be homeschooled anymore?”
I swallowed, shaking my head. “I don’t think so. I…can’t stay in here all the time. You’re right. I need to get…there. Wherever there is. I need to be me, and I have no idea who that is outside of this apartment. It would suck if I never found out.”
“I think that’s brave.”
“So, I have…steps.”
“More steps?”
I nodded and reached for my journal. Mae looked at me like I was crazy. She was used to seeing me with colored paper or copy paper. But this was just plain journal paper with all my ideas on it.
Mae read a few, then glanced up at me. “Go to a cheerleading event and hold up signs like you used to?”
“Yep.”
She read another. “Go to the museum with Mae.”
There were more. All things I wanted to do, things that made me who I am. Steps for me, so I could ease back into life on my own terms. Some were easy, some were scary, but they were all ways to get me where I wanted to go.
Mae stood, looking excited. “We have to find clothes. The perfect outfits for all your outings.”
I laughed. “I’m not going to do all of them tomorrow. One at a time.”
“Zoe?”
“Yeah?”
“I meant it. I think you’re brave.”
“I think you’re brave, too,” I said without hesitation.
In my fantasy world, I wouldn’t have done anything different. This was life. Good, bad, and everything in between.
She laughed. “I’m working on it.”
“Will you help me?” I asked.
“With your outfit? School?”
I grinned at her. “Those things, too.”
“What else?”
I shoved my laptop aside. “I have a plan.”
63.
JACKSON
It was the last month of school, and I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Normally I was organizing my clothes and trying to find books on sale and extra jobs to make sure I had money for the school year. But I’d been staying with my dad and things were going smoothly. No food worries, no money worries. My dad even suggested I take a break from work to focus on school.
Maybe Dad was trying a little too hard, but I couldn’t blame him.
Even though I had wifi at home, I brought my laptop and backpack to the library to do more college research. It made me feel like myself—or maybe the person I’d become over the years. Independent. Free.
Inside, I grabbed my books on hold and rode the escalator to the second floor to sit in my favorite spot. The sun shone bright outside and part of me thought I should be out there enjoying the day. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had a lot of days to be out there, in the world, enjoying my life.
Even if I had to do it without Zoe.
I hadn’t heard from her since I visited her apartment, and I hadn’t tried to get in contact with her again. Maybe I needed the space just as much as Zoe did. Besides, I had to learn that there were some things that weren’t my job to fix.
When I opened my computer, I frowned at the box in the corner with a notification. Chess Challenge. I opened up the app and stared at the screen. Zoe. No, Rogue2015. She’d left me a message.
Are you at the library?
I glanced around like I might find her standing right behind me. Then I laughed a little at myself. Of course she expected me to be here. Wasn’t this where I always was?
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I didn’t know what I’d expected from Zoe. A hello maybe, a how are you. Maybe even “I’m sorry” because she’d shut me out and there was nothing I could do about it.
Finally, I lowered my fingers and wrote back. Yes.
When she didn’t respond or make another move, I typed in, Where are you?
Probably at home. Maybe making more art for her paper wall. Her new paper wall, since she’d taken down the other one. I still had a picture of it on my phone, but it was nothing like the real thing.
I heard Dale’s telltale shuffle and the sound of his cart rolling in my direction. I cast him a smile before turning back to my computer. But he didn’t start stocking the shelves; he walked to my table instead. Without a word, he set something next to me.
An origami crane. Like something Zoe would make.
This time I physically turned around in my seat, sure she was behind me. I even stood and walked to the shelves, peering down each one, trying to find her. Nothing.
When I walked back to the table, I noticed writing on the wing of the bird. Small, loopy writing. Stonehenge.
I released a breath. She was here. Or there. At Stonehenge. She hadn’t talked to me in what felt like forever, and now she was here.
The hesitation lasted only a minute, then I gathered my computer and books and shoved them in my backpack. Still holding the crane, I stepped out into the sunshine and headed right, my stride a lot more casual than I felt. When I rounded the corner and saw the sculpture, but not her, I stopped.
No Zoe? Then why had she wanted me to come out here?
I shielded my eyes from the sun and walked until I reached the two tall structures. And there, right at the bottom of one, was another piece of origami.
A flower this time. It was made with colored paper. A purple flower, green stem, so intricate I knew only Zoe’s tiny hands were capable of creating it.
No note this time, but I had an idea what she was doing. Taking me on a tour with her origami to the same places and sculptures I’d shown her. So, I walked to the dustpan and broom and collected an origami frog.
At the next one, the giant metal piece of art that kind of looked like a robotic spider, I found origami Yoda and laughed. I knew where she wanted me to go next. My favorite one, Yearling. Or Horse on Chair.
When I walked around the corner, the emerald lawn stretching to my right, I froze. She stood next to the giant red chair, with a colorful box in her hands.
She smiled as I made my way across the grass and to her.
“You’re her
e,” she said.
“You’re here.”
Her smile wobbled. “I wanted to see you. And—and give you this.”
I took the box from her. I expected more origami, but this looked like a gift. A gift wrapped in comic paper. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
First, I wanted to hug her. To kiss her. To pull her close and make sure she was okay. But she looked okay. She looked great. A little nervous, maybe, but so alive.
“I’m really glad to see you,” I said instead.
“I’m really glad to see you, too.”
“Are you okay?” I had to ask.
“I am. I really am.” She dropped her chin slightly before lifting it again and meeting my eyes. “And I’m sorry. I should have called you back or something. Anything.” She touched my arm. “I was taking time and dealing with things I needed to deal with, but I wasn’t being fair to you. I’m sorry.”
The tension in my shoulders eased. That was all I needed. To understand what was going on and to know she was okay. “I forgive you.”
She smiled again. “Thank you. You should open it.”
I tore the wrapping to reveal a plain brown box with a lid. When I popped it open and spotted all the hearts, my laughter bubbled out. Origami hearts. Dozens of them.
“You made all these?” I asked.
She nodded. “There’s, uh…something at the bottom.”
I dug deeper, unable to help my grin. This must have taken her hours. I still couldn’t make an origami heart, let alone dozens of them that looked so perfect. Underneath the mass of pink and red hearts, I spotted a white piece of paper folded in half.
When I read the words, my mind went blank. Will you go to prom with me?
My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Prom was a big deal. And it was also at school. My school. Her school, too, if she ever decided to go.
“I know it’s kind of last minute, but I was hoping—”
I cut her off with a hard hug, nearly knocking her off her feet. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” I murmured again, lips against her ear. I let myself hope even more. “Are you sure?”
I heard the tremor in her voice when she said, “I’m sure.” And then she laughed, and it was the best sound I’d heard in a week.
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