I kept quiet as we rode the elevator, my stomach protesting the whole way up. Jackson glanced at me more than once, but all I could manage was a weak smile. It was me trying to be strong when I really had no idea how.
Mostly, I just wanted to reach out and take his hand and go about our business like usual. But something had to change.
Upstairs, after putting my leftovers in the fridge, I walked with Jackson to the study. He took his shoes off by the door like we always did, but I still heard his quiet footsteps behind me. I still felt the warmth from his body as he stepped inside the door, close enough I could touch his hand.
I heard his breath release when I moved away.
“My test is next week,” I said.
Jackson lowered his backpack to the floor by the desk. “Which is why I made another test for you. I think you’re really getting this.”
I nodded. Smiled. Good. He was sticking to math. I could handle that.
“I think I am, too. If I can do this test of yours, I should be ready. Physics is going well, too.”
He smiled, pulling papers out of his backpack. “I know.”
“So, after this…I’ll probably be done with tutoring.”
He stopped taking out papers. “I can still help.”
Then it occurred to me that I should have talked to Mom first. I shouldn’t have said anything at all. Jackson was doing this for the money, and maybe even to be away from his dad, so it wasn’t my place to get in the way of that.
“Of—of course you can. I didn’t—I mean, I know you have to do this. I’m sorry. Yes, tutoring—”
“Zoe.”
“No, not ‘Zoe’ again. Don’t say my name. I’m sorry. This is your job, and I’m—it’s not my place to say anything. Let’s do the test—”
“Please wait.” He stood and walked to me, with those expressive eyes and studious glasses, making me want to forget all about tests and worries.
“It’s fine. Forget I said anything.” I forced a smile as I turned to the desk. “You know me, I don’t think before I talk, and I babble—I’m babbling now, so…”
I blew out a breath and grabbed a pencil so I could do my test.
“You’re not babbling. You’re being honest. You’re being Zoe.”
“I’m not—that’s not who I am anymore. I have to grow up and deal with things. Really deal with them.”
I sealed my lips shut, afraid to say anything else. I was terrified of growing up and being in the real world on my own. But I had to. Mae was going to college this fall. My mom had her own stuff, too, and I had nothing.
I felt him behind me before I heard him. His hand touched my arm.
I turned around, staring at his shirt for a long moment before lifting my gaze. He’d taken off his glasses and looked so vulnerable without them that an ache bloomed inside of me. His eyes were tired, and it broke my heart to think he’d gone home to an empty house last night, or hadn’t talked with his dad at all, even though they lived in the same place. It broke my heart to think of him being so alone.
My lip trembled, and I bit it.
“I’m trying really hard to understand where you’re coming from,” Jackson said. “I know you want to do things on your own, and I can step back if that’s what you need. But I still want a chance with you.”
The words struck me hard. A chance with me? All I’d wanted since I met Jackson was a chance with him. And now I had it. I felt my resolve crumbling. “I still want a chance with you, too.”
“Really?”
“Yes. But—”
“No, don’t take it back. You have to at least let me enjoy it for a few minutes.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist, letting him have his moment. “Okay, two minutes.”
He chuckled, but his voice was still cautious when he spoke again. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes.”
“Then…” He eased back. “Why did you say ‘but’?”
“I’m trying to, uh…” I dropped my eyes. “I’m trying to do this—this thing where I step out of my comfort zone. And I thought I was. I thought I had the—the meteor shower and the grocery store. But all that was you. I can’t prove to myself I can do this if you’re such a big part of it. Does that make sense?”
When he didn’t answer, I looked up to see conflict raging on his face. “It does. But that doesn’t mean we can’t spend time together, right? I can tutor you if you need it, we can play chess like normal people. We can go places, too.”
“But I…” I wanted to say yes. Just because I had to figure out who I really was didn’t mean Jackson couldn’t be a small part of that.
“It’ll work. People do it all the time.”
I laughed. “What do you mean?”
“You know, there’s a girl who’s ridiculously cute with her too-long bangs, and she’s awesome at chess and she likes to fold paper. And there’s this boy who’s completely screwed up, who needs new glasses because he slept on them last night—”
“Oh, Jackson.”
He grinned. “And he meets this girl and thinks she’s amazing and he wants to be there for her. As a friend. As a boyfriend. Without stepping on her toes.”
“How does that work?” I asked, my heart thumping. Boyfriend. How did a paper girl get a boyfriend as amazing as Jackson?
“I hang out with you. I take you places. You hang out with me, and you take me places or play chess with me. An even balance. Stepping out of our comfort zones.”
“I see how I’ll be stepping out of my comfort zone, but what about you?”
This time he looked away, throat working in a difficult swallow. “I’m…I’m going to talk to my dad. And I could really use your support. Like, just…be there for me. If I need to talk, or vent, or bang my head against the wall or something.”
“Sure. Of—of course. Absolutely.” An even balance. That sounded good.
He kissed me before I could say anything else, lips warm on mine. I closed my eyes automatically. His hand moved in slow circles on my back, and I shivered in anticipation. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I let him turn me to lean against the desk.
His fingers slid up my spine, making my world tilt.
“I feel dizzy,” I whispered.
“Sick?”
“No, in a good way.”
“See? We’re practicing physics.”
I glanced to the door. “I don’t think my mom would agree.”
He straightened abruptly, looking in the same direction. He shoved a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “God, Zoe, I thought you meant she was standing right there.”
Laughing, I brushed my bangs from my eyes. My lips still tingled from his kiss. If I hadn’t been so embarrassed, I would have pulled him to me again.
“You need to get your glasses replaced.”
Jackson shrugged. “I can see you just fine.”
“And you can’t—I mean, you should maybe talk to someone about your dad if he’s still drinking or—”
“One thing at a time,” he suggested, returning to his backpack.
“Please don’t brush this off.”
He glanced up, surprise on his face. “I’m not. I promise. If you can do what you’re doing, and face the world even though it scares you, I should be able to talk to my dad, right?”
“Yes.”
“Test first, then. And you could get just a few wrong, you know, to give me an excuse to tutor you longer.”
I grinned. “Don’t let my mom hear you say that.”
“You know she loves feeding me. It’s a win-win.” He came back and touched my cheek. “We’re working on fixing things, right?”
“Right.” I gave a firm nod. We were both working on ourselves, and it would be okay. “All right, time me.”
“Ready. Set. Go.”
48.
JACKSON
I wasn’t sure how I’d ended up at the library instead of at my dad’s house, but here I was. Dale’s shift must have been over, be
cause he wasn’t in any of the aisles.
But when I reached my table, there was a book with a banana set on top. I glanced around, assuming someone had claimed my spot. But when I saw what the book was, I smiled.
It was an origami book. It had to be from Dale. Same with the banana.
I sat down and pushed the banana aside. Normally, I would have eaten it right there, but I wasn’t hungry. In fact, I was so full my stomach ached. Zoe made me eat at her house. And when her mom saw how much I’d eaten, she’d happily packed me leftovers from the night before so I could “take them home to my dad.”
That’s where I was supposed to be. I’d promised Zoe, and I didn’t intend to break that promise. But I couldn’t do it. Not yet. He could be at work. He could be there doing drugs.
Any excuse I could think of to not go there, I had it.
I opened the origami book and searched the table of contents for shapes. I grinned when I found one for a heart, and turned the page. It looked more complicated than the one I’d already tried. How did Zoe do it?
Tiny hands. That had to be part of it.
Mine were too big and clumsy to make anything that delicate.
My phone buzzed. My stomach clenched, thinking it might be my dad. But when I looked at the screen, I relaxed.
It was Zoe. Good luck.
Before I knew it, I was calling her number, waiting for her voice on the other end.
She answered after two rings. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Did I interrupt?”
“With your text? No, I’m not…I’m at the library.”
She didn’t answer, but I could hear her breathing on the other end.
“I promise I’m going,” I said. “I just need a pep talk.”
“You’ll be fine, I know it. You have to do this. You have to try to work this out. No matter what happens, I’m here for you. Just go over there, try to talk to him and see how it goes. The worst thing that happens is you have to leave, and I’ll be here for you. My whole family will, if that’s what it takes.”
I swallowed. “You’re right.”
“You can do this.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you feel better?”
“I want to talk to you more,” I said, paging through the book.
“Jackson.”
“I love when you do that. Say my name with a sigh. Or say my name. Or just—”
“I won’t do it again unless you do what you’re supposed to.”
I smiled and took note of a page that had a basic origami flower on it. I might be able to do that. For Zoe. “Are you threatening me?”
“Do I sound scary? I can use my serious voice.”
Laughing, I said, “Yes, do that.”
“Young man, you get your butt over there and do what you’re supposed to. Now.”
“Very good. But I like your exasperated voice better. You kind of angle your head when you say my name, and it’s like the weight of the world is on you. And I just want to fix it.”
She was silent for a long moment.
“Zoe? Talk to me.”
“It’s not your job to fix my problems.”
“It’s my job to support you like you’re supporting me. Please let me.”
“I’m trying.”
I shut the book and stretched my legs out under the table. “I want to take you somewhere tomorrow.”
“Where?”
“Nowhere scary. On an art tour. We can walk, and I can show you all my favorite spots.”
She hesitated. “Is it close?”
“Yes. Don’t stress about it. That’s part of the rules, right? To try not to stress about things before they happen. You’ll make yourself feel sick.”
“I try not to, you know. And I can distract myself sometimes, but then I start thinking again, and I worry and worry and worry until it seems so overwhelming I don’t know what to do. Except worry.”
“What’s the worst that can happen?” I asked, using her line. “It rains on us? Then I get to give you my jacket and treat you special, and it’s actually a good thing instead of a bad one.”
“A panic attack is what could happen,” she said softly. Then she released a breath. “But I know it seems bigger and scarier than it is, and that’s what I need to understand. It’s just…it’s not one specific thing I expect to go wrong. It’s not knowing. It’s all the things that could happen that I won’t be prepared for.”
“I’ll be there. The whole time.”
“Which means I’m depending on you again,” she said with a sigh. “It’s a big contradiction. I want to have someone there, and I need to do it on my own. But…”
“I can come over.”
“What? Now? No! You have something to do. Ignore me. I’m not talking about this anymore.”
“I love when you talk.”
“You need a better hobby, then.”
With a grin, I put the banana in my backpack. She sounded just like Rogue. How had I ever doubted they were the same person?
“I like this one just fine,” I said. “Tell you what. I’ll take you out tomorrow, and you can plan something for next time. By yourself.”
“Pressure,” she murmured.
“I know how you feel.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Go see your dad.”
“You should do something to distract yourself so you won’t think about tomorrow.”
“I was thinking about maybe working on an asteroid belt.”
“Oh God, you make that sound sexy.”
“Jackson.”
“I need to come over there right now.”
“Jackson.”
“You can’t deter me. I’m on my way.”
“Don’t you dare.”
I took the origami book downstairs to find my holds. “But, Zoe.”
“No arguing.”
I gave an exaggerated sigh. “If you say so.”
“Really, Jackson. You can do this.”
…
The house looked empty when I got there. No car in the driveway, no weather-beaten chairs out on the patio. Of course, they’d been falling apart anyway. Maybe Dad had put them out with the trash.
There was a big pile on the curb. The chairs weren’t there, but there were boxes and two trash cans, and a broken shelf—one I remembered used to be in the main bathroom.
I sat in the car for a long time, staring at the trash, making up scenarios about why my dad actually wanted me here. He was moving. He’d gotten a job across the country. He’d gotten taken to jail, and someone else now owned the house.
Anything was more likely than he simply wanted me to visit. That he’d gotten his life together. That he wanted to be a father again.
Zoe’s words jumped into my mind, pumping me full of purpose. You can do this.
She was right. What did I have to lose?
I opened the door and stepped out. The sky had become overcast with dark billowy clouds that hovered above the city, trapping in the heat. It felt like it was weighing me down, making it harder and harder to take each step.
When I arrived at the curb, the trash cans in front of me, I found another way to distract myself. There were dozens of papers in a bag, mostly shredded, but just underneath I could see an amber bottle.
Gritting my teeth, I lifted the bag out, staring at the contents of the trash can. A handful of alcohol bottles. Beer in cans, Jack Daniel’s bottles, even wine coolers. More than half the trash can was full of liquor.
Of course. This was his world. Why had I thought he might have changed?
I shoved the bag back inside and peeked into the other can. This one didn’t have any bottles, but it held something even worse.
Clothes. My mother’s clothes. Two bags of them, and even some loose items like an old jacket and a pair of boots. Her favorite pair. Granted, they had holes in them, but they were still her favorite.
What an ass! How dare he throw her stuff in the trash.
The sound of the screen door op
ening caught my attention. Dad walked out, wearing jeans and a ball cap. “Jackson?”
“What is this?” I said.
He descended two steps and paused. His gaze swept to the house across the street, and I noticed someone looking out the window. Probably wondering why I was going through the garbage. Maybe even ready to call the cops because I was scavenging. After all, most of the neighbors probably had no idea who I was, since I’d been gone for so long.
Dad moved closer. He squinted, looking pained. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“It looks like you had a party. It looks like the same thing it always looks like around here.”
“That’s not—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“They’re full,” Austin said. “Most of the bottles, all the beers. They’re not empty cans or things I’ve drunk. See? I can show you—I’m getting rid of them.”
His words struck a chord, but I was already on a roll. “And Mom’s stuff? You figured you’d toss that out, too?”
“Just her old stuff. Stuff no one else would want.”
“Not even me?” Pain pierced my heart. He was getting rid of everything from the past.
When the screen door opened again, a woman with blond hair walked out. I stared dumbly at her, trying not to put the pieces into place.
I reached into the trash can and grabbed Mom’s jacket, clutching it close to my chest. “I get it,” I whispered, already turning. “You’ve replaced Mom. You just needed to throw her stuff out.”
“No, that’s not—”
“Don’t talk to me!” I shouted, starting across the street. My voice broke when I said the words, and my eyes blurred with the rage of tears I was embarrassed and mortified to be on the verge of shedding.
Why would I expect anything different? This was Dad. This was what he did.
“Jackson, wait!”
I got into my car, slammed the door, and shoved my keys in the ignition. When the car wouldn’t start, I pounded the steering wheel and cranked the keys again.
Dad started toward my car, waving his hands as if to make me stop. The car sputtered to life, shuddering once before I whipped around the cul-de-sac, driving from my home as the first raindrops started to fall.
Paper Girl Page 20
