Paper Girl

by Cindy R. Wilson

  Call him.

  I fished my phone out of my pocket and stared at the screen for a long moment. When the lady continued to stare at me, I returned her smile. “Girlfriend troubles.”

  That made her smile widen. For a moment, I thought she might try to engage in a conversation, to help me fix my troubles. But after a second, she went back to her book.

  With a deep breath, I pulled up my dad’s number and pressed send before I could change my mind. The longer it rang, the more relieved I got. If he didn’t answer, it wasn’t my fault. I tried, it didn’t work. Time to move on.

  Then the phone clicked and I heard a voice. His voice.

  “Hello?”

  I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to say to him, not even how angry I was with him.

  “Hello?” I heard his breathing for a long moment. “Jackson?”

  When he said my name, I hung up. My heart raced, making me glance around like everyone else might notice as well.

  The lady next to me offered another smile. This time it was sympathetic.

  “I couldn’t do it,” I told her.

  She nodded, probably assuming I was talking about my girlfriend.

  “Give it time,” she said.

  I summoned a nod. Time. That’s what my mom would say. Give it time. Keep trying. But right now, I didn’t want to think about any of that. I wanted to be with Zoe.

  When she started a conversation with me, I didn’t hesitate to answer her. To put the world around me on hold. Not too much longer and I could go see her.

  After another few moves, I turned to the lady next to me. “Can you watch my computer while I use the restroom?”

  “Of course.”

  I took my backpack with me, winding around the line of people as baristas called out names for completed orders. Inside the bathroom, there was one man washing his hands. I nodded at him and waited until he was finished before propping my backpack on the sink.

  Once I had the bathroom to myself, I pulled out my toothbrush and hurried to put paste on it. I stared at myself in the mirror as I brushed.

  I’d called my dad. I’d taken that step. It was a start. I could say to my mom I’d done what she wanted. Sure, I’d frozen up, but it was still a step.

  The door opened mid-brush. My eyes locked with the man who walked in. I was frozen just like I’d been hearing my dad’s voice on the phone.

  The guy lifted his eyebrows, and all I could do was stare. He knew. He knew I was homeless. And if he knew, who else did?

  I gave myself a mental shake. No. This guy had no idea what was going on, and neither did anyone else. I’d covered my bases, hadn’t I? I’d been careful.

  I spit in the sink and tried to shrug like it was no big deal. “I’m going to see my girlfriend after this.”

  The man chuckled and disappeared into a stall. I finished my teeth quickly, zipped my backpack, and stepped into the hallway.

  That was the second time I’d used a girlfriend as an excuse. Zoe. Is that what we were? A couple? I had no idea. All I knew was that I wanted to see her more often than not. And I planned on enjoying myself this evening despite the setbacks of the day.

  I didn’t have to hear my mom’s voice to know that she was on board with that decision.

  All except for the part about me keeping secrets from Zoe. But tonight was about enjoying the evening, right? Even the truth could be put on hold sometimes.

  I stopped at the bulletin board to add one of my flyers and then returned to the table, where my laptop was sitting safe and sound. I thanked the woman and made one more move before I shut down the game to head to Zoe’s house.

  40.

  Rogue2015: Where are you?

  BlackKNIGHT: What?

  Rogue2015: Where are you? I’m in my room, looking out the window. I always wonder where you are when we play.

  BlackKNIGHT: I like to people watch, so I go somewhere with free wifi. And you’re extra inquisitive today.

  Rogue2015: Just curious. But you’re right, it’s none of my business. It’s your move.

  BlackKNIGHT: I didn’t say it wasn’t any of your business. I like when you ask questions. Then we’re more than just robots playing a game. :-)

  Rogue2015: It feels like that sometimes, doesn’t it? But other times… Okay, where do you people watch?

  BlackKNIGHT: I really want to know what you were going to say. Sometimes it feels like we’re robots to me, too. But others…

  Rogue2015: It’s like talking to someone who knows you better than anyone else.

  BlackKNIGHT: Exactly. I agree.

  Rogue2015: Are you people watching now?

  BlackKNIGHT: A little.

  Rogue2015: Where?

  BlackKNIGHT: Starbucks.

  Rogue2015: Oh. You like their coffee?

  BlackKNIGHT: Uh…actually, no. It’s strange.

  Rogue2015: Strange? Their coffee is strange?

  BlackKNIGHT: Not their coffee. All coffee. I don’t really like it. But their banana bread is killer.

  Rogue2015: Wait, you sit in Starbucks and people watch, and use their free wifi, but you don’t drink their coffee?

  BlackKNIGHT: I exert my patronage in other ways. Hello, banana bread.

  Rogue2015: LOL. Exert your patronage. Back to being a robot, I guess.

  BlackKNIGHT: Did you ever think I might talk like that in real life?

  Rogue2015: A 17-year-old boy talking like that? Never heard of it.

  BlackKNIGHT: I’m extremely cultured. You have no idea. And I practically live at the library, so you know, I’m surrounded by books all day. I can’t help but be smart.

  Rogue2015: A 17-year-old boy who practically lives at the library? Now I’m convinced you’re a robot. Only a robot would say things like that and actually think I’d believe they were true.

  BlackKNIGHT: Oh ye of little faith. One day you’ll believe me.

  Rogue2015: Maybe. Maybe not. But in the meantime…I’m about two moves away from checkmate. Although if you were a robot, you’d already know that.

  BlackKNIGHT: I had no clue. You believe I’m not a robot now?

  Rogue2015: Not yet. That was a bad move.

  BlackKNIGHT: Okay, do you believe me now?

  Rogue2015: LOL. I’m thinking about it.

  BlackKNIGHT: You think, I’ll people watch. And eat banana bread.

  Rogue2015: I might have to try some sometime. Just to see if you’re really telling the truth.

  BlackKNIGHT: You do that and let me know.

  41.

  ZOE

  When the elevator dinged, I felt it in my stomach, too—a mix of fear and excitement, part of me dying to see Jackson and the other part afraid something would go wrong. But still, it was getting easier.

  “Is that Jackson?” Mom called from the kitchen.

  The doors opened to reveal Jackson carrying his worn backpack and giving a warm smile when he saw me. Every part of me responded to that smile. All the times I’d watched him from the other room when Mae had invited him over, even the times I’d watched him play basketball when I still went to school—all those moments bubbled to the surface. Jackson was here. For me.

  “Am I late?” he asked, still smiling as he stepped into the lobby.

  “No.”

  He toed off his sneakers and lined them up along with the others. They were out of place, old and dirty, but somehow they fit. Like they belonged. Like Jackson belonged here with us.

  Mom peered out of the kitchen. “Jackson.” She smiled. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  I ducked my chin. That’s because he wasn’t usually here this late.

  “Worksheets,” Jackson said smoothly. “I have lots of practice worksheets for Zoe.”

  I held in a grimace. Exactly what I didn’t want. More homework. More real life.

  Then Jackson grinned at me, and I didn’t care how many worksheets he had in his backpack, I was just glad he was here.

  “Worksheets are
good,” Mom said. She beckoned us into the kitchen. “Snacks for the hard workers.”

  We followed her into the kitchen and loaded up our plates with snacks, making my mom happy. Jackson didn’t even blink when she piled more food on top of what he already had. With his dad the way he was, he probably didn’t get many home-cooked meals. And it made sense he’d rather be here than there.

  By the time Mom finally let us leave the kitchen, we’d amassed enough food for a small army. I was fairly certain Jackson would eat it all and go back for seconds.

  I turned on the lights in the study, illuminating the colored sheets of the sun. Outside the window, the sky was a flat shade of gray, but in here, it was a sea of color. A new meteor shot by Saturn, and I’d created another of Jupiter’s moons.

  Jackson set his plate of food on the desk, and I considered it a huge compliment that he wanted to look at my paper art more than he wanted to eat. He walked to Jupiter and studied it, then angled his head at the moons. Long enough to make me self-conscious.

  “I really don’t know how you do it,” he murmured.

  I set my plate down as well and walked closer. “Do what?”

  “Make it look so real. Up close, you can see all the pieces and parts and how much time it took to make each piece, but from far away, you just see a galaxy. A galaxy that looks a lot like the real thing.”

  “I do a lot of research before I make each piece.”

  Jackson turned to me, a question in his eyes. Oh God. He knew. He knew I was a stalker and that I made this solar system because of him. “You could make a job out of this,” he said. “I saw some pictures of the paper art at the museum. Yours is just as good.”

  My cheeks warmed. I’d seen the pictures, too. I’d been looking at the website almost every day, trying to build up the courage to go. My art was nowhere near as good as what I’d seen, but the more I practiced, the better I’d get. Visiting the museum and seeing the pieces in person would help.

  “What got you so interested in astronomy?” I asked.

  Jackson’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then, finally, he said, “My mom.”

  “Oh.”

  Something he didn’t want to talk about. I grabbed my plate for a distraction and brought it to the window seat. Jackson joined me, balancing his plate on his knees.

  “She always used to talk about space and how much else was out there,” Jackson said. “She said it made our problems seem less significant, that they were something that we shouldn’t worry about so much in the grand scheme of things.”

  I ate a carrot and waited, afraid to say anything. I didn’t want him to stop talking.

  “When we moved here,” Jackson continued, “I wasn’t happy about having to switch schools. And the very first thing we did that same night in our new house was go out back and look at the stars.”

  I smiled at him. “Your mom got through life by looking at the stars, and mine gets through it by feeding people.”

  Jackson laughed. The sound relieved me. “Yeah. We all have different ways of coping with things.”

  I nodded. We did. Jackson was only too familiar with my coping technique.

  He ate a few more bites of food, still staring at the stars and planets. He looked relaxed, too relaxed for me to ask about his dad. To bring up more stressors. But what else could I say?

  “How many worksheets do you have?”

  He grinned. “Worksheets?”

  “Yeah, you told my mom…” I trailed off when he kept smiling. “Were you just making that up?”

  “Completely. I mean, I could write up some worksheets if you want—”

  “No. No,” I said more calmly when his grin widened. “I’m good. I need a break from worksheets. I just want to…”

  “What?”

  I shrugged. “Spend time with you.”

  He set aside his plate and linked his fingers with mine. “This is why I made up the not-so-elaborate story of worksheets. So we’d have plenty of time.”

  I jumped at the soft knock on the door, guiltily pulling my hand from Jackson’s.

  Mom peeked her head inside. “There’s a lot more food out there.”

  Jackson smirked.

  I stood with a nod. “I know. We’ll come get more soon.”

  “Come get more now,” she said. “Then I can put it away and start regrouting that tile for my channel.”

  Jackson coughed, his eyes locking on mine. Regrouting tile? he mouthed. I held in laughter as I stood. Mom was into her home improvement phase and documenting every step on YouTube.

  “I’ll get us another plate,” I said to appease my mom. And because I needed to breathe. Jackson wouldn’t stop looking at me.

  His fingers were so warm. Sometimes he’d glance at my mouth and I thought he was going to kiss me, and then I’d find something to distract me because I was nervous.

  I left Jackson in the study, munching on his plate of food, and followed Mom to the kitchen. Mae was there, eating celery. When she saw me, she launched into song.

  “Z-oe has comp-any,” she crooned off-key. “Jack-son is in the stuuuuuudy!”

  “You need professional help,” I told her as Mom handed me another plate.

  She leaned in, close enough Mom couldn’t hear what she was whispering. “Are you really doing homework in there?”

  “Mae.”

  When Mom turned to the refrigerator to put food away, Mae nudged my arm with her elbow. “Is he a good kisser?”

  I choked on my response, ready to chide her again.

  “You have kissed him, haven’t you?” Mae asked, her eyes amused. “Because if not, I can keep Mom busy for you. Just pull him over to Mercury and say something about gravity not working or something then kind of fall into him…with your lips.”

  A laugh gurgled out, and Mae covered her grin when Mom turned around.

  “What are you whispering about?” Mom asked.

  “Gravity,” Mae and I said immediately.

  “Physics,” I added.

  “Right.” Mae nodded. “Physics.”

  I brought the full plate back to the study and found Jackson leaning over at the desk. I closed the door and walked up behind him.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Massacring this piece of paper.”

  I scooted around to see the piece of paper he had in front of him. It was full of creases and looked about to rip in two.

  “Why? Red is hard to find sometimes.”

  He lifted his phone and showed me a picture. A paper heart, similar to the one I made. “I wanted to make one for you, but it’s harder than it looks.”

  “Lots of steps.”

  He nodded, putting his phone away. “I’m a good student.”

  I set the plate aside and went for more paper. Pink this time. “You want me to show you?”

  “I do. If you show me how to do it, you’ll have to sit really close, right?”

  I blushed. “I can show you without being that close.”

  “How close is that?” He stood and stepped forward so there was only a foot of space between us. “This close?”

  “Probably, uh…” I stared at his chest. The words slipped out before I could help it. Gravity. “Closer than that.”

  Amusement tinged his voice when he settled his hand on my hip. “This close?”

  I lifted my chin, Mae’s words bolstering my courage. “Closer.”

  His lips found mine without hesitation. They were warm, like his hands, and softer than I expected. Gentle. My mouth parted, ready to say his name, but he took it as an invitation to press even closer, so his hand slid up my back and the other found my cheek with those same warm fingers.

  “Close your eyes,” he murmured.

  They dropped shut, blocking out everything but Jackson. His tongue touched mine, and I shivered. Was I doing this right? Was Jackson disappointed?

  He eased back, breath hot on my cheek. “You’re analyzing.”

  �
�I’m sorry.”

  “No. God, it seems like I always say the wrong thing.”

  “Isn’t that my line?”

  He laughed, touching my cheek again. “That wasn’t scary, was it?”

  “Terrifying.” Not that I’d never kissed someone before, but there was always that doubt.

  “Maybe we should work on it. Practice.”

  My heart thudded, beating against his. “I’m not surprised you said that.”

  “Practice makes perfect.”

  That was definitely something I could get behind. When he pressed his mouth to mine again, I let myself go. My heart beat out of control as his breath whispered against my lips. A soft sigh slipped out, and I laughed, keeping my eyes closed.

  I was right, Jackson was a great kisser, and I never wanted him to stop.

  42.

  JACKSON

  I watched as Zoe showed me all the steps to make a paper heart. And I sat really close, because Zoe smelled good and now that I’d kissed her it was hard to think of doing anything else.

  I’d never felt lips so soft, never knew what it was like to have someone trust me so completely. I could have kissed her the entire afternoon—if only her mom would stop bringing us food.

  It was the first time in a long time I didn’t care about food.

  “You have to get a really good crease here,” she said, head bowed over the partial heart.

  “Here?” I asked.

  I could see what she was doing perfectly well, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want her to scoot a little closer for instruction.

  “On this fold,” she said, voice dropping low.

  Her fingers brushed mine and lingered. I shifted in my seat a little so our knees touched. I could feel the heat coming off her, feel the warmth of her skin through her jeans and mine.

  “There.” She blinked up at me. “You’ve got it now.”

  I breathed out, wishing this was it. That there was nothing else between us but this moment. Instead, there was the reality that she never left her house. There was the reality that I didn’t have a house.

  And Chess Challenge.