Paper Girl

by Cindy R. Wilson

  I reached out and took her hand, brushing my thumb across her knuckles. “After my mom died, my dad couldn’t handle it. He started drinking—drinking more, I guess—and doing drugs.”

  “Jackson,” she whispered.

  I gave her a strained smile. “I liked it better when you said my name before. This feels like a pity ‘Jackson.’”

  “It’s not a pity ‘Jackson.’ It’s a…my heart hurts for you.”

  I thought of the little red heart in my wallet and wished mine could be tucked away that easily, so I didn’t have to feel.

  But not now. Not with Zoe looking at me with wide eyes that could tear over at any moment. She cared.

  It was right there. The words I was keeping from everyone but Rogue. I moved out of my house. I’m homeless. But I couldn’t do it.

  “Is it bad?” she asked.

  I swallowed and looked away. “It has been. I try to stay away from the house as much as possible. I don’t see him much.”

  Her lips parted. She glanced at the door, as if certain her mom would walk through right that moment and tell her what to say.

  “I’d feel better if you don’t tell anyone,” I said. Then the whole truth would come out.

  Zoe stood. “But this isn’t right. I mean, it’s not your fault. But your dad—”

  “Zoe, shh. Please. Just…” I sighed and stood as well, so much taller than her I had to look down to meet her eyes. “Can we just keep this between us for now?”

  “This makes me sad. Jackson…”

  “That’s better. I liked it better that time when you said it.”

  She looked up at me, eyes swimming. “I don’t think it’s funny.”

  “If this is going to be a problem, I can leave. I’m sorry.”

  “No. Damn.” I smiled when she cursed, and she did it again. “Stop. I’m trying to think.”

  “You’re cute when you think.”

  She backed up. “Don’t say that. You distract me. Maybe…we could tell someone? My parents? They’d understand. Then maybe you wouldn’t have to be there—”

  “Zoe.” She had no idea I’d already fixed that problem.

  She stared at my feet. “This isn’t good. Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  She glanced up. “What?”

  “I don’t want you to be so nervous. Not when we’re talking about this. Not when I tell you what I want to tell you. Close your eyes.”

  She blew out a breath and shut her eyes. I took a step closer, touching her jaw. She stiffened, but her lips parted, almost like she thought I was going to kiss her.

  I almost did.

  But instead, I lifted her chin so I could see the sun on her face. “Zoe.”

  “Yes?”

  “I like you. A lot. I want to keep tutoring you, and see the meteor shower with you, and take you to the museum. I don’t want to talk about things we have no control over.”

  “But—”

  “So, for now, let’s forget this conversation.”

  “You can stay here. I’m sure my mom won’t mind. At least—”

  I put my hand over her mouth. “That’s the opposite of forgetting. If I’d known I could get you to talk this much, I would’ve tried a new tactic earlier.”

  Her cheeks flushed. I stepped one foot closer, enough to feel her heart race against mine, and the warmth of her breath through my T-shirt. “I’ll figure it out eventually. I will. But for now…just hold on.”

  So, she did. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and I kept more secrets from her because, for the first time, I wanted to live in Zoe’s little paper world as badly as she did.

  37.

  BlackKNIGHT: It’s been a while.

  Rogue2015: I’ve been busy.

  BlackKNIGHT: Playing chess with other people?

  BlackKNIGHT: Your lack of response indicates I’m correct.

  Rogue2015: It doesn’t indicate anything. Only that I’ve been busy. Like I said.

  BlackKNIGHT: Playing chess with other people.

  Rogue2015: Playing chess with regular people.

  BlackKNIGHT: But not me, the irregular one.

  Rogue2015: I mean, playing chess the regular amount with people I typically play chess with. For the most part.

  BlackKNIGHT: Ahhh…

  Rogue2015: This distraction technique might work on most people, but it still isn’t going to win you the match.

  BlackKNIGHT: Sometimes I just want to talk.

  Rogue2015: Then why are you on Chess Challenge? There’s this thing called Facebook. And another thing called Twitter. In fact, I can think of a lot of places you could go to talk.

  BlackKNIGHT: If I log onto Facebook, will you talk to me there?

  Rogue2015: No. I can’t. I’m here. Playing chess. But you don’t have to play with me if you don’t want to. I can start a new match with someone else.

  BlackKNIGHT: I don’t want that. There, I made my move. Now, talk to me, Rogue.

  Rogue2015: That was a decent move.

  BlackKNIGHT: Maybe the chess club at my school will win our state championship and then we’ll have to play your school. Then we could meet.

  Rogue2015: You’re part of the chess club at your school?

  BlackKNIGHT: Yes. Are you?

  Rogue2015: I don’t go to school. I’m homeschooled. It’s your turn.

  BlackKNIGHT: Oh. You must be smart. Like Chess Champion smart. :-)

  Rogue2015: Not really. I’m terrible at math. I have a tutor. Still your turn, or I’m letting you loose on Facebook.

  BlackKNIGHT: Okay. I went. A tutor, huh? Old guy with glasses?

  Rogue2015: Old guy: no. Glasses: yes.

  BlackKNIGHT: Ah, a young guy. Is he cute?

  Rogue2015: Why? You interested? I could give you his number.

  BlackKNIGHT: You have his number?

  Rogue2015: This really is a Facebook conversation.

  BlackKNIGHT: Okay, sorry. I’m focusing. It’s just…I think you’re kind of great.

  Rogue2015: I think you’re kind of great, too.

  BlackKNIGHT: Great. All right. Your turn.

  38.

  ZOE

  “Progress is scary,” Gina said, “but good.”

  “I’m not sure… No, I don’t think I agree about the good part.”

  She paced in front of the paper wall, one hand fluffing her hot pink scarf. “I don’t see why not. If I would have told you last week or the week before you’d be leaving your apartment almost every day, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

  “Just because I’m doing it doesn’t mean it’s progress. I don’t even leave the lobby.”

  “You see other people. You watched a movie with your friends—”

  “Mae’s friends.”

  “Did it feel like they were her friends or did it feel like you were all friends?” She glanced over with a smile. “In a friendly environment?”

  “Yes.”

  “To which?”

  “Friendly environment,” I mumbled.

  “See? Progress. And I bet her graduation doesn’t feel quite so scary now.”

  I debated this, but I had to agree. I could actually picture myself going there without having a panic attack.

  “You’re even more comfortable talking with me,” Gina said.

  “That’s how it works.” I pulled my legs up on the window seat with me. “Almost everything is easier once I get more comfortable.”

  “Precisely my point.” She stopped pacing and faced me. “Going outside will become more comfortable. Leaving the building and talking to strangers will be more comfortable. Keep at it, and some of these things will start to come naturally.”

  I picked at the sleeve of my hoodie. “I guess.”

  Gina sat at the desk and folded her hands. “What else would you like to talk about?”

  “Can’t think of anything.”

  “I think we should talk about Jackson.”

  My head whipped up. Jackson. What
did she know about Jackson?

  “Tell me what that was all about,” Gina said.

  “Wh—what?”

  “Your expression when I said his name. Your mom says you’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

  I couldn’t stop thinking about what Jackson had told me earlier in the week. About his dad being an alcoholic. And maybe a drug addict. It was so unfair. Worse, I wanted to help him fix it and he didn’t even want to talk about it.

  It sounded like he and BlackKNIGHT had a lot in common. Maybe I just attracted people who were as messed up as me.

  “He’s tutoring me.”

  “Outside of your tutoring sessions. Evenings sometimes.”

  “I…” Yes, evenings, and phone calls at other times. Daily visits. Texts.

  How was I supposed to answer this? I loved how much Jackson was here. He’d become as much of a safety blanket as my paper room. But was that a bad thing?

  “Sometimes,” I said.

  “Are you happy to be spending so much time with Jackson?”

  My mind went blank. What did she want me to say? What was the right answer here?

  Gina smiled. “Zoe. Why do I always feel like you’re trying to give me the answer I want to hear?”

  “There’s an answer you want to hear?”

  “Clever. I think you know what I mean. There is no right or wrong answer, just your feelings.” She smiled and snapped her fingers. “Let’s play a game.”

  I tucked my knees up under my chin, narrowing my eyes. “What kind of game?”

  “The yes or no answer game, where I ask a question and you answer as quickly as possible with your first, gut reaction.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  She grinned. “Sometimes honesty is. You want to play?”

  Not really. And yes. “Okay.”

  She tapped her fingers against her lips, thinking, and then she nodded. “We’ll start easy. Do you like math?”

  “No. And yes.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Well, I like—”

  “No, you don’t have to explain. Just give the first answer that comes to you. The most honest answer. Does going to school scare you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to go to school?”

  “Yes.”

  She continued without even blinking, even though I’d just admitted something that was probably better kept secret. “Do you love playing chess?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you jealous of Mae?”

  “Yes.” I frowned. Damn it.

  “Do you like Jackson as your tutor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does he make it easier for you to spend time with other people—including him?”

  “I…I don’t understand.”

  “Does he push you out of your comfort zone?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Is it getting easier to step outside of your comfort zone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to go to graduation?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “Ye—what?”

  She smiled. “It’s okay. You can think about that one. Lots of yeses, though. You’re making progress. I think you should keep taking those steps. And if you are considering the idea of school, I think it would be smart to talk to your mom.”

  I stood up, my hands tucked into my sleeves. “I… School is a big step.”

  “These are all really big steps. And also steps I think you’re capable of.”

  Some of them, yes. But I couldn’t help but think of her other question. Are you happy? I was. I felt happy. Because of a lot of things in my life, not just the big steps. Part of me was starting to realize that I would never be the world’s version of normal, and that was okay. I needed to take steps for the things I wanted to do, not what everyone else thought I should be doing.

  Gina smiled again. Why did she keep doing that? “You’re making progress. I think it’s time to leave the building.”

  “And go where?”

  “Wherever you want. Go grocery shopping with your mom.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Yeah, but you need to trade off. Do mundane tasks, and then something you like. Go to the grocery store and then go to the art museum. Take a trip to the post office and then visit the library.”

  “Can I go with someone else?”

  “Jackson?”

  Why’d she say that? Maybe because she could see right through me.

  She laughed. “Yes. But don’t only rely on him. Go with other people, too. And soon…you can do it on your own.”

  “All by myself?”

  “Anywhere Mae would normally go by herself, you should, too. This is great, Zoe.” She nodded when I looked doubtful. “It means you’re trying. It means you could be in school soon. It means you’ll have your senior year if you want it, maybe even the rest of your junior year.” Her smile widened. “Graduation. And prom.”

  “Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”

  After Gina left, I sat in the window seat in my study. Prom? Was she kidding me?

  But part of me, the part that was getting used to trying new things, could almost picture it. I’d spent a lot of time worrying about things. Obsessing over them. But not much time really enjoying myself. Not at school, not with my family, and not with Jackson.

  It was time I did something to change that.

  39.

  JACKSON

  “Foul,” Robert said. “That was a foul.”

  I laughed. “You wish. That was a fair point. Just accept it—don’t be a sore loser.”

  Robert grinned and flipped me off before tossing from the three-point line. The basketball went in the net with a smooth swoosh, and then he cheered. “That would have tied it.”

  “In your dreams.”

  I scooped the ball from the floor to return it to the cart, dodging a few other players who were finishing up their own practice.

  “You in a hurry?” Robert asked as he followed me to the locker room.

  I deliberately slowed my pace. “No.”

  I didn’t have to be at Zoe’s until later, but I still wanted a shower and a chance to clean up. I also wanted to talk with Rogue on Chess Challenge. I wasn’t sure why I still kept them separate—but mostly it was because we had different relationships. Rogue could be herself with me. Zoe couldn’t. Zoe was there, real flesh and blood, and I wanted to get to know her, and Rogue was in cyberspace. I wanted both of them.

  Robert punched my shoulder. “Liar. You’re going to see her, right?”

  “Her? Who?”

  “Zoe.”

  “Later,” I said with a shrug. We passed one of the billboards where I’d put a flyer for tutoring. I checked to see how many people had taken the number and nodded to myself.

  Three.

  Maybe one out of the three would call. But those weren’t the only flyers I’d put up, so there was still hope. I needed the tutoring gig with Zoe for my scholarship, but I still needed others to save up more money.

  “Uh…” Robert stopped at his locker and ran his hand on the back of his neck. “My cousin…he’s not doing so well with math. Maybe—”

  “It’s fine,” I said quickly, embarrassed that Robert had noticed me looking at the flyer. “I’ve got it figured out.”

  “No, really. He’s failing and his parents are about to send him off to some military school or something because they don’t know how to get him to bring up his grades.” Robert shrugged, just as I had earlier, and dug through his locker so he wouldn’t have to meet my eyes. “I thought if anyone could get through to him, you could. I know it’s just eighth grade math or whatever, but it’d be a job, and it’d help out my aunt and uncle…”

  I snagged a towel with a nod. “Sure. If it’d help them out.”

  “Good,” Robert said. “I’ll let them know.”

  That still didn’t stop me from checking the rest of the flyers around the school before I left. Freshl
y showered and a little more sober from my conversation with Robert, I drove to Starbucks to use the wifi.

  My stomach grumbled when I stepped inside and spotted the items in the pastry case. I didn’t care so much about the coffee, but the banana bread used to be one of my favorites. I allowed myself to mentally tabulate how much spending money I had before steering myself to one of the tables well out of view of the pastries.

  Spending money? I laughed to myself. What was that? Since when did I think I was allowed spending money? Besides, Mrs. King would probably have a whole counter full of food when I got there, and I’d make my stomach hurt from eating it all.

  I still pulled a granola bar from my backpack, though, and tried to pretend it was banana bread as I set up my laptop. The Chess Challenge site came up, making me smile. It was something Zoe and I shared, even if she didn’t know it.

  Then my mom’s voice popped up in my head telling me to be honest. To be a man.

  She kept telling me other things, too.

  You should call your dad. Let him know you got his message.

  You should tell Zoe about being homeless. Then you won’t be alone.

  I know things are hard, but you can get through it.

  She was a lot more optimistic than I felt sometimes.

  When I saw Zoe was online, I tried to let that relax me.

  Rogue2015 has initiated a match. Would you like to play?

  I accepted the match and marveled how every move she made seemed to have a purpose. That’s what chess was all about, wasn’t it? I still had a lot to learn from Zoe. I didn’t think it was so much that I didn’t understand the technique. I think it was more about patience. I was so eager to watch it play out on the board, I didn’t want to wait the three or five or ten turns it took to see it. But Zoe had that patience. She could see the bigger picture.

  Call him.

  It was my mom’s voice again, nagging me about my dad. And damn, she was hard to ignore. I respected her. If she was telling me to call him, she was probably right that I should. But that didn’t change how I felt toward him.

  “I don’t know how that’s going to help the bigger picture,” I mumbled, making another move on my virtual chessboard.

  The lady from the next table over cast me a strained smile. One that said she was worried about sitting so close to a crazy person. She didn’t have to worry about me. It was just one voice in my head, and it was perfectly sane.