Paper Girl

by Cindy R. Wilson

  Curfew for minors in Denver was midnight on Fridays, so I didn’t dawdle when I took the bus back to the light rail station where I’d parked my car. The police seemed to have better things to do with their time than fine a teenager minding his own business, but still. I didn’t need any unwanted attention from the authorities. Which was also why I hadn’t told anyone else about leaving my dad’s house. Now, Robert knew—sort of—and I’d almost told Zoe tonight.

  It was only fair, right? I knew her secret; I should tell her mine, too. Or that I knew she was Rogue2015. After all, she’d told me so much about herself online without knowing it was me. But then we’d both be exposed. She’d know I knew all about her little quirks and probably retreat back into her shell, and she’d know I was homeless. I could deal with the fallout of that if I had to. But hurting Zoe? That wasn’t an option.

  I chose a dark street to park on, knowing I needed to get to sleep soon if I was going to be up before sunrise to move my car. But my mind wouldn’t slow down.

  When I pulled out my phone, the message from my father was still there. Unheard. It made me think about my mom and missed opportunities. It made me think about Zoe being too afraid to do anything outside her apartment.

  But Dad had his chance and he blew it. I’d stayed even though he hadn’t been there the night my mother died. I’d stayed the first time he’d gone to rehab. I’d stayed when he screamed about how he never should have had a kid. But after a while, it had been too much.

  I squeezed the phone so tight it popped from my hand and tumbled to the floor at my feet.

  Grumbling, I retrieved it and checked Chess Challenge. Nothing from Rogue. Zoe.

  I missed them both.

  With another heavy sigh, I climbed into the back seat, pulled on a sweatshirt, and stared at my phone. Then I pressed the button to listen to the message and turned the speaker on.

  “Jackson, it’s Dad. Austin. I, uh…” His sigh traveled through the phone, and it sounded weary. “I wanted to talk to you. To…see if you might want to come back home. I got in a little trouble.” I almost hung up right there. Of course. He was in trouble. But then he continued in that same weary voice. “It was a while back and—and I had to do some rehab and now…well, now it’s been six months. No, six and a half, which—well, that probably doesn’t matter to you. It’s—there are steps—and—”

  He broke off again, sounding tired.

  “Okay,” Dad said. “Look. I messed up. Bad. And a lot. And your mom…” His voice lowered to almost a whisper. “She’d hate to have seen me the way I was. I don’t want to disappoint her. I really loved her, even if it didn’t seem like it. Give me a call if you want. Or stop by. I have a job, but I’m home in the mornings or afternoons. And I can make dinner or pick something up. Whatever. I fixed the washing machine.”

  I let out a reluctant laugh. It was so random, but it showed he was trying. Dammit. I didn’t want him to try. Because then I’d feel like a dick for not trying, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to go there yet. Or again. Or ever.

  I lowered the phone to my lap when the message ended. Outside the window, headlights appeared down the street. I sank lower in the seat, trying to hide my shoulders under window level and keep my legs crunched up.

  I saw the rack with lights on top and held my breath, waiting for them to start flashing red and blue. I was already coming up with an excuse in my mind, hoping it wasn’t the same cop who’d caught me in my car last week.

  After a moment, the cruiser drove away. I released my breath and stretched my legs as much as possible. I fit in this car just about as well as an elephant fit in an elevator. I’d had lots of sleepless nights in this back seat, but not as much once the weather started getting warmer. Then, I didn’t need dozens of blankets. Then, I didn’t see my breath fogging up the window. Sometimes I could even see the stars. I’d roll down the window and name the constellations like my mom used to, and things would be okay.

  Lonely, but okay.

  If she were here now, I know what she’d say. Call your dad.

  “Nothing’s changed,” I mumbled.

  He’s trying.

  “Because he fixed the washing machine?” My laugh was hollow.

  That, and because he cared enough to call. Family is important.

  I sighed. I knew family was important. But Mom had been the one holding our family together. She’d fallen in love with a different version of Dad, one I didn’t know. One who had left when I’d been a little boy.

  I didn’t even know him anymore. Didn’t know if I wanted to know him.

  Even when things get hard, you still have to try.

  I couldn’t argue with that. Mom hadn’t given up even when it was close to the end. If I gave up on school or Dad or anything, really, I knew I’d regret it. But that still didn’t make things easier.

  Easier would be standing with Zoe in her solar system right now, holding her hand and pretending the outside world didn’t exist.

  Phone still in hand, I pulled up her number. It was after midnight, but I hadn’t left her house too long ago. Maybe she was still awake.

  I texted her. Are you asleep?

  Closing my eyes, I let the phone rest on my chest while I waited for her to get back to me. I’d started to doze when I felt my phone buzz. I jerked awake and read her message.

  Not yet.

  I could hear the soft sigh in her voice, picture her lying in bed with her bangs half eclipsing her eyes. I could feel the smoothness of her hand, how it fit so perfectly in mine, and smell the jasmine in her hair as she pressed close in a vulnerable hug, her nerves racking her body in shivers.

  I typed a quick message. Are you okay?

  When she answered back, her message was just as brief. I’m fine.

  I could also hear the lie in the words. She was probably biting her lip or dipping her chin to stare at her hands. Probably wishing I’d just leave her alone. Maybe I should. But, God, it was like when my mom had died and I just had to sit there and take it. I didn’t want to hang back and let this go. I wanted her to know how important life was.

  There was a whole world out there. Mountains and trees and meteor showers and Horse on Chair, and Zoe was in there, afraid to open up. It felt like my job to help her. To show her that she was bigger than all this. And that she meant enough to me I wanted to get her there.

  Wherever “there” was.

  So I tried again. Can I come by tomorrow?

  It’s the weekend. Do you have more homework for me?

  I smiled. Work, yes. But not at home. I wanted to take her somewhere. I wanted to convince her to see the meteor shower. I wanted to bring her to the library.

  I’d still like to see you, I texted.

  I don’t know. I have to help my mom with holiday cards.

  Holiday cards? Of course, Mrs. King was always prepared for anything. She was living her life months in the future, prepped for the next holiday, the next big family gathering, the next seventeen meals, probably the apocalypse.

  I tapped my finger on the knee of my jeans. Zoe was trying to avoid me. Because she was scared. Because she’d told me her secret.

  I wrote another message but hesitated to send it. I didn’t want to push her, so I was just going to have to be patient. I’d feel her out with a Chess Challenge conversation tomorrow morning, and maybe she’d feel better.

  I’ll talk to you soon. Good night, Zoe.

  Good night.

  I’d be patient, but I needed to help her. I needed to be there for her the way I hadn’t been able to be there for Mom. Just another reason to keep my identities separate. It was better for everyone all around.

  34.

  BlackKNIGHT: I’ve got this.

  Rogue2015: What have you got?

  BlackKNIGHT: This game. I’m going to dominate.

  Rogue2015: Sorry, Chess Challenge doesn’t have an emoji of me laughing in your face, so this is the best I can do: ha ha!

  BlackKNIGHT: Don’t be so quick to dismiss my
prowess.

  Rogue2015: Well, it is true that you are currently ranked at number 4 on the leaderboard.

  BlackKNIGHT: Yeah, ZeldaLegend lost to GryffindorChessMaster (which in my opinion is too much of a mouthful to even be able to focus on a chess match), so I moved up.

  Rogue2015: We’re chess nerds, BK. You can’t expect overwhelming creativity in a handle. But then…

  BlackKNIGHT: What?

  Rogue2015: I’m beginning to suspect you’re not a chess nerd.

  BlackKNIGHT: Why do you say that?

  Rogue2015: I have a theory. It’s fairly extensive. I’d bore you.

  BlackKNIGHT: I’m intrigued. Tell me. I have the whole day.

  Rogue2015: I thought you were going to dominate.

  BlackKNIGHT: I’m working on that multitasking thing. It’s…coming along.

  Rogue2015: Very convincing. But I don

  BlackKNIGHT: Rogue?

  BlackKNIGHT: Rogue?

  Rogue2015: Sorry, I need to go.

  BlackKNIGHT: Make one more move.

  (Rogue2015 just took your rook)

  BlackKNIGHT: Not that move.

  Rogue2015: ;) Keep practicing.

  35.

  ZOE

  Even card making couldn’t cheer me up this morning, though I’d made a pretty cute 3-D one with a firework exploding on the front for the Fourth of July. I left Mom delighted with the idea and figured she wouldn’t notice if I holed up in my study to play a match with BlackKNIGHT. I’d actually started to feel better when Mae knocked on my door, coming in before I could even grumble out a response that might make her leave me alone.

  Her gaze swept the room before stopping on the computer.

  “More chess?”

  I finished my chat with BlackKNIGHT and shut the computer. I grabbed a comic off my desk and flopped into a beanbag chair on the floor. I had stopped right when Silver Surfer was trying to cure Bruce Banner of being the Hulk.

  “What’s going on?” Mae asked, standing in front of me.

  I looked up, enjoying the way Saturn’s moons hovered over Mae’s head like she had two bulbous growths. “I made a Fourth of July card.” I held up my comic. “I learned more about Galactus. I almost won a chess match on my computer before you interrupted me. Seems about normal, right?”

  “I mean after last night. You and Jackson seemed to be getting along until…ice cream.”

  I laughed, though my heart felt heavier in my chest. “Ice cream. Yeah. I sort of…told Jackson about my issue.”

  She sat in front of me and crossed her legs. “And?”

  “And what? That’s a big deal.”

  Mae scratched her arm. “He kind of already knew most of it. I mean, he has to come here to tutor you. He knows you don’t go to school, and he knows you don’t really leave the house.”

  “I never leave the house. That surprised him.”

  She leaned in closer, staring at Silver Surfer. “Is he an alien or something? That can’t be a costume.”

  I frowned. “Mae.”

  She tore her eyes away from the comic. “Jackson is independent. He never talks about his dad or doing stuff at home. I think he pretty much takes care of himself. So, yeah, he was probably surprised you never leave the house because he always leaves the house. He goes places and talks about things he’s seen and…” She pressed her lips together when she saw my expression. “That’s not helping, is it?”

  “No. It doesn’t help to know that he loves being out there. And I’m…always in here.”

  “You might love being out there, too.”

  “I didn’t love checking the mail.”

  “You haven’t been out of the house in over a year, Zoe. You have to expect a transition period. Check the mail again today, and do something else. Go outside and watch people walk around. Call Jackson on the phone. Do something more. One new thing every day.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Gina? Is that you?”

  “Funny. I want you to come to my graduation. I want you to come back to school. You’re going to miss everything if you don’t.”

  I forced a shrug like it didn’t really matter, but it was a knife to the heart because I wanted all those things, too, and I wasn’t getting there fast enough.

  My mouth dropped open when she stood, pointing her finger at me. “We all have to deal with scary shit in life, and the only way we get past it is by being proactive.”

  “Mae,” I whispered, surprised at the steel in her tone.

  “Didn’t we have fun last night?”

  I swallowed and nodded. “Yes. But…I don’t know if I like this new tough love approach.”

  She grinned. “Well, Mom and Dad aren’t doing it, are they? Do you really want to be living here when you’re thirty years old? Don’t you dare say yes—I can see you considering it. My point is, you need to live your life. You can visit Mom and make freezer meals, but you’re going to need your own place eventually. You’re going to need a job. You’re going to want a boyfriend—a husband—a vacation! That’s going to scare the crap out of you if you don’t start preparing for it now.”

  “Preparing—”

  “Yes, preparing. Building up courage. Not stressing, acting. Dealing. And learning how to cope.”

  “Oh my God.” I stood also, setting the comic on the desk. “You aren’t Gina, you’re Dr. Edwards. You could choose any superhero, and you chose to disguise yourself as Dr. Edwards?”

  Mae rubbed her temples. “Okay, I realize there are actually people out there who think it’s cool to like all this comic book stuff, but you know you’re never going to meet them if you don’t go outside.”

  “That’s completely untrue. They’re all holed up in their rooms reading comics, too.”

  “What about that big convention they have in San Diego or New York or wherever?”

  “Comic-Con. They have one in Denver, too. So?”

  “So you’re never going to go to it. Thor could be there.”

  “Gross.”

  She angled her head. “Captain America?”

  “Meh.”

  “Jackson dressed as Mr. Fantastic?”

  My cheeks flamed.

  “Oh, oh, sweet sister, you have it soooo bad for Jackson. Or Mr. Fantastic. Or both. In his tight superhero outfit with those sexy glasses—Mr. Fantastic does wear glasses, right?”

  “When he’s Reed—and how the hell do you know anything about Mr. Fantastic?”

  Mae laughed. “Touchy. I know about Mr. Fantastic because I watched Fantastic Four with Robert. He wanted to see it and—hello, tight superhero outfits. Duh. Zoe, come on, we’re not all that different.” Her smile widened. “Jackson does kind of look like Mr. Fantastic or whatever his real name is.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “If you don’t like him, tell him.”

  “That’s not—I mean, I don’t—” I took a breath, dropping my chin. “I do like…Jackson.”

  “You’re going to be seventeen in a few weeks. If Mom and Dad aren’t going to make you live your life, I am.”

  I couldn’t help the pout in my voice. “You’re not the boss of me.”

  Mae laughed so hard I thought she was going to double over in the beanbag chair. “You think that crap is—is going to work with me?” She laughed harder.

  I sat calmly at my desk, arms folded, and waited for her to collect herself. By the time she looked up, tears were streaming down her face.

  “Are you finished?” I asked.

  She wiped her cheeks, face going serious in an instant. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be scared?”

  I blinked.

  “I had to move away from my friends when I’d finally gotten used to where we were living so Dad could come here and be the Car King. I was there when you had your first panic attack, and you think I knew what to do? I’m going to college this fall and I’m trying to figure it all out on my own. Dad is so busy with work, and Mom is so busy putting glitter on everything, she forgets sometime
s that I even exist. And you’re always in here, or with your therapists, or freaking out, and I don’t know what to do!”

  The blood drained from my face. I’d never heard Mae this upset before.

  She crossed her arms, posture mirroring mine. “And guess what, Zoe? I’m not allowed to be scared because you’ve got a monopoly on that emotion. So, when I freaked out because Robert asked me to prom last year and I’d never had a boyfriend before, Mom was like, ‘Well, at least you can leave the house. Zoe’s too scared to go anywhere.’ So…” She sighed, her voice going soft. “Yeah, it’s like I wasn’t allowed to be scared. It’s stupid, I know, but small things happen like that all the time.”

  “You could talk to me,” I whispered.

  “Maybe if I learned to play chess, then you’d want me around. Or if I was a piece of paper.”

  Throat dry, I could only stare at her. She was right. I wasn’t there for her. And Mom and Dad hadn’t been there for her because they were always there for me.

  “It’s selfish, I know,” Mae said. This time she was unable to meet my eyes. “But I don’t want you to do this anymore. I want to go places with you, and I want you to be able to be there for me. I want it to be like it used to be.”

  She walked out of the room, leaving me alone with Silver Surfer and guilt so heavy I couldn’t even stand.

  My phone rang. I looked at the screen through blurry eyes. I took off my glasses, wiped my tears, and put my glasses on in time for my phone to stop ringing.

  Jackson.

  My stomach clenched. Why was he calling? Now he was going to think I didn’t want to talk to him because I hadn’t answered and—

  Taking a sharp breath, I forced myself to grab the phone. I called back Jackson’s number, almost hoping he didn’t answer.

  “Zoe?”

  I gurgled out a greeting he probably didn’t understand, and then tried again with a calmer voice. “Hi. I’m sorry I didn’t get your call in time.”

  “It’s okay. How’s card making going?”

  “It’s—fine. We’re done. I’m…”

  “What’s wrong?”

  My throat clogged. “I got in a fight with Mae.”

  “You want me to come over?”