“The things we lost,” she confirms.
“I’m done with rehashing what I—what we all—lost. It’s almost been a year. I can’t do it anymore.” Looking at the paper I doodled all over earlier, I smile. The margins are covered with sketches. A sun, a stick figure ballerina, a ruby gem shooting off sparks.
“I don’t think we have to. We’ve lost enough. I’m ready to focus on other things, happier things.”
I exhale. “You’re coming to New York for school.”
“I am.” She chuckles.
“I’m really happy about that, Ruby.”
“Me too. Happier than I thought I would be. I have more to look forward to than I did before.”
I’m not crazy, am I? Her words echo my thoughts. It’s like she wants to see me as much as I want to see her. Like maybe there is more to this than paper planes and messages in bottles. More than ink smeared words.
“So, you’ll talk to your dad about the memorial and hopefully we can meet up on the 18th?” I can’t believe this is happening.
“Yes! I’m going to talk to him as soon as we hang up.”
I could talk to her all night. I want to, but I play it cool. “You can call me anytime.” Okay, semi-cool. “I mean, to let me know for sure. We can make plans. Cole will be in New York by then, maybe I could stay at his place and show you and your dad around the city? I’d love to see you dance, too.”
“I could dance in the streets for you. New York is probably the only place I could get away with that.” Her tone rises an octave; the musical quality suggesting she’s teasing. “But you’d want to show us around? Are you sure?”
“Am I sure? I’d like nothing better. Besides, I need to tell Amber about you at some point. She goes crazy for trips to the city. It would work out well for me to bring her along.” Have I told her Amber doesn’t know about our letters? Guess I have now, if I didn’t before.
“Is it weird that I really want to meet Amber? I mean . . . I don’t know her the way I know you, but I feel like I know her. Though, meeting her makes me nervous. It might be too weird for her.”
“I think she’ll love you.” Like I do. The thought comes easily; I don’t know what to do with it.
She exhales, laughing lightly. “Okay. Cool. Touring New York together. It’ll be fun! Maybe you can help me pick out an apartment—” She stops. “I mean . . . you know . . . so I can find something . . . cool.”
I grin at her awkwardness as she fumbles with her words. “I’m sure your dad will want to do the apartment shopping, but I’ll be happy to help however I can. Maybe we can find a place near a tattoo parlor.”
“Oh, good idea! Then I’ll be able to get information from the locals about the artists there to make sure you’re safe.”
“Has anyone ever told you your obsessiveness is adorable?”
“That’s what they all say at first . . .” Ruby trails off like she wishes she could take back her words.
“Well, I’ll take the challenge.” I’m more than willing to bet I’m going to find her adorable the first, second, and third time I see her. And every time after that. “I guess I should let you go, then.”
She hesitates. “Yeah, right. Of course. I need to go talk with my dad, so we can change our plans.”
“Good, and let me know,” I remind her eagerly.
“I will. And then we can figure out a meeting spot or something.”
“Okay. I owe you a letter now too.”
“I’m gonna hold you to it. I’ll be looking for the paper plane.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t written back, but with prom and all . . . um, I—”
“Your phone call makes up for it. I forgive you.”
“Thanks.” I shouldn’t have brought up prom. Hope’s face flashes before me. “I’ll talk to you soon, one way or another,” I promise, my heart speeding up.
“Okay. Good luck telling Amber.”
Good luck indeed. “Bye, Ruby of Oz.”
Her soft laughter travels through the phone making it hard to hang up. “Bye, Brett.”
My smile doesn’t go away, but neither does the image of Hope.
CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE
Ruby
FRIDAY, MAY 14
“I can’t believe you’re going to leave me for New York.” Kamry falls back onto my bed with a humph. “I mean . . . not that it’s a competition between me and New York because obviously no one can compete with an opportunity at NYU. It’s amazing, Roo. I’m just sad you’ll be on the other side of the country.”
I slide next to her on my back and stare up at my universe of hanging paper planes. It’s my favorite place. “There’s more.”
“You have more secrets?”
“Just one more.”
Kamry curls onto her side and faces me. “Have I really been that much of an awful friend that you’ve wanted to keep me in the dark on everything?”
“I’ve kept Brett from everyone. My dad only found out about him a few weeks back.”
“Brett? Brett who?”
From the beginning, I catch her up to his phone call yesterday.
“The paper planes are his letters?” Her eyes shift to my ceiling. “I thought they were just some new weird obsession with planes.”
“Kamry.” I roll my eyes.
“What?” She looks to me. “You can’t get mad at me for that. You go through phases. I thought this was one of them. Remember when you had an obsession with planets? It would make sense and you know it.”
“Well, it’s not. Brett didn’t send them this way in the beginning. It started a few months ago.”
“Do you know what he looks like?”
My grin is impossible to suppress as I sit up to reach into my drawer and pull out the picture of him and Amber.
“Ruby.” Her mouth drops. “He’s hot.”
“I know.”
“Does he know what you look like?”
I nod. “I sent him a picture of Jimmy and me after Sweethearts. And then another one after I got my nose ring.”
“And he wants to meet you in New York.”
I’m beginning to regret telling her. “Why are you making me feel like it’s an impossibility for him to want to meet me after seeing me?”
“Ruby.” She sets the picture beside her on the bed. “I’m not. Are you kidding me? I’m trying to take this all in. You’ve been writing to him for like five months, have never met him. You’ve talked on the phone once, and now you’re all of a sudden going to New York to meet him.”
“Technically, my dad and I are going to look for an apartment and to go to the memorial. Meeting Brett happens to be a bonus.”
“So, what does this mean? Do you like him?”
Am I really going to confess this out loud? I have to tell someone. I have to talk this out. “More than I want to admit, Kam.”
Her eyes light up. A wide grin slowly grows on her face. “Do you think he feels the same way?”
Grabbing my hair at the roots, I spring off of the bed. “I don’t know! He has a girlfriend and I know she’s really important to him, but when we talked on the phone it felt like no one existed except for us. His voice. Gah! Kamry! It was so dreamy!”
“He called you, Ruby, not just to tell you about the memorial, but because he wants to meet you. He’s been sending you paper planes, and drawing you pictures, and writing sweet messages for months. Are you pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down?”
Fluttering in my chest is making it hard to breathe, to think, to form words. “I think it might be possible he feels the same way.”
Kamry jumps on my bed. Pillows bounce and fall over the edge, and my bedspread comes undone. “Ruby! You’re going to New York to meet the man of your dreams!”
I laugh and shush her. “My dad will hear you. And besides, I can’t get my hopes up. Whether he feels the same way or not, Hope still exists. I’m a pen pal. That’s it.”
“Well, sounds to me like it’s time to get rid of this Hope chick.”
<
br /> “Kamry!” I scold, not because I disagree, but because it’s so petty and something a scheming, jealous girl would do. That’s not me.
She settles back on my bed, Indian style. “I’m just saying at some point he’s going to have to choose.”
“I’ll never make him choose. It’s not a competition. We’re friends. No matter what. I’ll be grateful to have only that.” I lie.
MONDAY, MAY 17
I know Brett’s letter is coming today, so I skip to the mailbox when Nana drops me off to get ready for dance.
Since our phone call I’ve been more excited than ever to read what he’ll write next. In my bedroom, I quickly pull the neatly folded paper plane and the picture alongside it from the envelope. Anticipating what he sent, I flip over the photo. Everything stops when I see the girl standing next to Brett, laughing. It’s one of those flattering laughing faces. Her mouth isn’t open too wide. It’s open enough to show perfectly lined, white teeth. Her eyes shine with happiness. She is beautiful. This must be Hope. Her prom dress is flawless and pale blue and matches Brett’s eyes.
When he first sent me that picture of him, and I thought Amber was Hope, I was so worried. Seeing Hope doesn’t make me worry. It makes me feel an array of emotions I’m not ready to sort through. The strongest emotion being envy. We’re polar opposites. She’s blonde and petite and gorgeous. I bet she doesn’t ramble anxiously when she gets nervous or spout off useless facts that come to mind. She’s probably smooth and flirty and knows exactly how to be with someone like Brett. I suddenly feel incredibly inadequate.
This paper plane is folded with a sketched map of the United States. An arch of dots connect California to Pennsylvania.
This plane is for Cali and PA. Why do they have to be so far apart?
Ruby,
I just hung up with you. I promised I would write you back, didn’t I? I have another confession to make. I was terrified of making that phone call. If you repeat that, I will deny it.
Truth is, when we first started communicating, it was easy for me to think of you as not real. Please don’t take that the wrong way. What I mean is, you’re this amazing girl who made me laugh and understood me. But you’re across the country. It seemed innocent. Pen pals.
Then it wasn’t.
I doubt you realize how much your letters helped. Knowing I had you—if I needed you—that has made all the difference in dealing with the last few months.
Hope said she loves me. I couldn’t say it back though. She’s not under any illusions I’m madly in love with her. Granted, I haven’t told her why. I haven’t told her there’s this girl in California who makes me feel the same things she does using only words.
I keep telling myself she’s here, she’s real. But now, you’re real to me too. You’re coming to New York, and I keep wondering if all of this—all the letters, and pain, and loss—wasn’t all for nothing.
What if we were meant to meet?
Or what if I’m crazy. If you think I’m crazy, please don’t worry about hurting me. Tell me. I promise we can still be friends, no hard feelings.
—Brett
I read his letter over and over and over again. My heart races after his words. What is he trying to tell me? He has feelings for me? What about Hope? Does he only want to meet? Or is he asking for more?
My eyes trail over the doodled margins, over his stick figure depiction of me that’s somehow simply perfect. I want to write so many things, but I can’t find the right words. I stop myself from writing Brett the odds of two people falling in love who live on opposite sides of the country and have never met, because quite frankly, it would freak him out if I mention the L-word. And I don’t have a precise answer for him, but I guarantee it’s not very high. Not that we’re in love. Because I know we’re not.
“Ruby Alina! Are you ready yet?” Nana yells from downstairs.
Dangit. Dance. I’ll have to write to him when I get home tonight. “I’ll be right down!” I stuff the picture and paper plane in my drawer, grab my dance bag, and hustle down the stairs.
Brett,
For months, who am I kidding, since the beginning, I’ve lived for our letters. They’ve been so much more than words on paper. You’ve given me back hope and smiles and laughter. That probably sounds incredibly cheesy, but it’s true. Those were things I thought I’d never have again. I had dance, but it was truly the only thing in my life that brought me any happiness until you came along.
Hope. It’s a little ironic that hope is what you’ve given me, isn’t it? But talking about the real Hope...you’re conflicted and I get it. You’ve conflicted me in so many different ways, I thought I was going insane. How could I feel something for someone I’ve never seen in person, but I don’t want to come between you two.
I will tell you this...you’re not crazy. Ever since you encouraged me to follow my dreams to New York, I’ve thought of the possibilities of what a life closer to you would be like. It’s hard for me to imagine a life without you in it now. In whatever capacity it may be, we were meant to find one another, to know each other. I’d like to believe my mom was looking over me and crossed some paths that were never meant to intersect in order for me to find you.
So, here’s to whatever the future may hold.
Luv, Ruby
P.S. Our flights have been changed. We fly in Thursday night!
THAT’S THE WAY LOVE GOES
Brett
FRIDAY, MAY 21
“Hey, loser. My BFF wants you to call her.” Amber tosses the cordless receiver at my head.
“You mean my girlfriend wants me to call her?” I throw the title at her because she hates it when I refer to Hope as my girlfriend. Something about her “owning” Hope first. Hope merely laughs at us when we fight over who gets more time with her. Thanks to my stellar make out skills, I’m winning.
“Whatever. I’m going out tonight. Don’t wait up.”
My finger stills in the midst of dialing Hope. “Whoa, wait up. Where are you going?” She doesn’t reply and I finish dialing. “Where are you going?” I repeat.
The front door slams closed at the same time Hope answers the phone. “Hey, handsome.”
I rush to the window in time to see Amber slide into a beat up sports car. “Brett?”
“Shoot.”
Hope repeats my name dragging me from the window. “Oh, hey. I’m sorry. Do you know where Amber is heading tonight?”
Silence. I’m asking my girlfriend to rat on her best friend. It’s not fair, but I won’t apologize for it either. “Hope?”
“Some party out in Ashfield. We met a few guys at Stratitori’s the other day after school and they invited us.”
“Invited us?”
“I was with her. Remember, you went skating with Derek so we went for pizza.”
“Yes, I remember, but I wasn’t sure I heard you right. You let her go to some party with guys neither of you know, alone?” I seethe.
“I didn’t let her do anything.” Hope’s voice lowers, the slight warning in her tone, menacing. “She’s a big girl, we can’t keep an eye on her every second.”
Like hell I can’t. Even as I think the words, I acknowledge they’re not true. Hope’s right. Amber will sneak out if I attempt to rein her in. She’s done it before. She’s lied, she’s walked out several times. She does what she wants.
I curse. My helplessness is the most painful part. If I’m lucky, a friend will call and tell me Amber is three sheets to the wind and give me directions to pick her up. If I’m not, I’ll wait here on the couch until she comes home.
“Listen, I’m not up for a movie anymore. Can we go out tomorrow?”
“Are you mad at me?”
“No.” Yes.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine. There’s nothing you can do by sitting around waiting for her.”
I shake my head. “You could have told me about the party. Every time she goes out she comes home wasted with some no name guy on her arm. Or she doesn’t come home at
all. Or gets arrested. Her track record isn’t the best, and you could have warned me.”
“I know, but I promised her I wouldn’t. I’m sorry.” Hope doesn’t grovel the way Carmen did when we fought. No, Hope is apologizing, simply. It should be enough, but right now with everything going on, it’s not.
I hang up, promising to call in the morning. I pull out the letter Ruby wrote on the 8th, searching for something to cheer me up. Her comments about artists not becoming famous until after their deaths makes me laugh. I’ll have to defy the odds. Ruby asked for more pictures. I can do that. I grab a notepad and pencils and go to work sketching whatever comes to mind as I wait for Amber. Having something to focus on keeps me calm, or as calm as I’m going to be until I know my sister is safe and sound in this house with me.
***
Lightning crashes, the flashes illuminating the living room as pouring rain continues to beat against our house. Dark shadows stretch across the floor as I lay on the couch and wait for Amber.
Footsteps sound outside the front door and the lock clicks. The flashes I saw were headlights, not lighting. I jump to my feet and rush to the door to meet Amber. Two wet blondes meet me as the door swings open.
“Hope?” I step forward, taking a wobbly Amber from her arms. “Am? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. She fell asleep on the way here. She isn’t as drunk as she looks.” She pushes her wet hair back and meets my eyes. “I promise.”
“I’m so sleepy,” Amber mumbles.
Hope and I half-carry, half-push her up the stairs and into her room. She falls onto her bed, and Hope removes her shoes, covering her legs while I stare at my sister.
“I miss them.” I would have missed the anguished whisper if I hadn’t leaned down to draw the blanket over her shoulders. “I miss Mom and Daddy.” A sob releases from her lips, and I fall to my knees, kneeling beside her bed.
Paper Planes and Other Things We Lost Page 17
