Paper Girl

by Cindy R. Wilson

  49.

  Rogue2015: Hey. You’re not really going to let me win this one, are you?

  BlackKNIGHT: It looks pretty hopeless from my end.

  Rogue2015: Hopeless? We’ve only made five moves.

  BlackKNIGHT: Still.

  Rogue2015: Are you okay?

  BlackKNIGHT: Rough day.

  Rogue2105: You want to talk about it?

  BlackKNIGHT: I really want to, but I should probably go. It’s getting late.

  Rogue2015: I’m here if you need me.

  BlackKNIGHT: I know.

  50.

  ZOE

  Worry ate away my stomach lining. I couldn’t sleep at all last night. Jackson hadn’t called after he went to visit his dad, and hadn’t answered my call when I tried to get in touch with him later in the evening. When I tried Jackson’s phone again this morning, there was still no answer.

  He was probably busy with school, that’s all. He couldn’t get back to me because it was a school day.

  But that didn’t help. He texted me all the time when he was at school.

  I didn’t know what else to do but talk to my parents. They’d be able to figure it out. But I’d told Jackson I wouldn’t say anything. I was trying really hard lately to keep my promises.

  But I couldn’t even talk to BlackKNIGHT about it. He’d had a rough day, too. Something twisted in my gut—an idea. A fear. Jackson and BlackKNIGHT…there were so many similarities.

  I paced in front of my paper wall, for once not thinking about planets or asteroids or chess. My mind was jumbled. I couldn’t stop putting Jackson and BlackKNIGHT together as the same person. And worse, I couldn’t stop worrying that something had happened to Jackson. That his dad had been drunk when he’d gone over there. Or he’d gotten violent.

  Gina wasn’t coming until tomorrow, but I seriously considered calling her. I could tell her about Jackson and she couldn’t say anything. She had to keep it confidential. But maybe she’d give me some advice. She’d help me figure out what to do.

  Mom popped her head in the room. “Did you do it yet?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your math test.”

  I glanced to my computer. I’d told Mom I was going to take my final test early, and I’d completely forgotten.

  “I…” I shook my head. “No.”

  “You should do it now before Jackson gets here. Then you won’t worry about it later. You’re going out tonight, right?”

  She looked hopeful. I couldn’t infuse that same hope into the smile I gave her. Jackson said he’d be here, but I didn’t know for sure. He wouldn’t even talk to me.

  What if something had happened to him?

  “Zoe?”

  I blinked, realizing I was staring at her but not really seeing her. “The test. Right. I’ll do it now.”

  Instead of leaving, Mom walked into the room. She looked up at my wall with a smile. “You added more.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I like Venus,” she said, pointing. “That’s Venus, right?”

  “Yes. I like that one, too.”

  “Nice colors.” Her smile was strained when she looked at me. “Are you okay? You seem…distracted.”

  I shrugged.

  “No.” She frowned. “Not just distracted. Worried.”

  “It’s…” My math test came up on the screen. All I had to do was click the box and the timer would start.

  “Did something happen with Jackson?” Mom pressed.

  I practically forced him to talk to his dad last night, even though his dad could be dangerous, and now I haven’t heard anything from him. I’m scared.

  “I’m nervous, that’s all,” I told her.

  “For today?”

  I nodded. “And Friday. I’m going to take Jackson to the museum for that art exhibit.”

  Mom brightened. “Really?”

  “I already bought tickets.”

  She smiled. “I’m really proud of you. And the exhibit looks fun. You’ll have to tell me about it.”

  “I will.”

  I hadn’t given Jackson’s secret away. But now I felt worse. I wasn’t helping him by lying about his situation.

  “I’m going to do my test.”

  She set a hand on my shoulder before leaving the room. I forced myself to focus on math and think about Jackson later.

  …

  Twenty minutes before Jackson was supposed to be here, I found my mom in her workroom, answering comments on her YouTube page. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, showing how comfortable she felt with answering questions and keeping her fans happy.

  “I’m getting ready to go,” I said.

  She turned around, hand clasping the back of her chair. “I didn’t hear the elevator. Is Jackson here?”

  “I’m going to meet him downstairs.”

  A range of emotions traveled across her face before she settled on a smile. “Okay. Just check in later, okay? And let me know when you’ll be back. And be safe.”

  I hugged her. “We will.”

  But something about the moment made me linger. Maybe it was the blue kimono she had hanging on the wall, or the way she lined up all her note cards on her desk—like something I would do. Maybe it was the concern in her eyes or the detailed barrette she’d put in her hair. Something about that moment made her more real. Like a person instead of a mom.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “Were you nervous when you came here?”

  Mom flexed her fingers on the back of the chair. “Here? Our apartment?”

  “No…here. America.”

  “Oh.” She laughed, then released a breath that deflated her shoulders. “Yes. So nervous. I had to start middle school, which wasn’t anything like school back at home. My English was—” She wobbled her hand back and forth. “So-so. I thought I was going to throw up in my first class.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  She shook her head, eyes turning wistful. “No. I was actually sort of a novelty. It was fun. I just—I had to give it a try. I locked myself in the bathroom that morning, you know. With my shoes on and everything, which really annoyed my mom.” She grinned. “It took my parents twenty minutes to convince me to come out. I was almost late to school.”

  “I’m glad it was good for you,” I said. I could picture her clearly. A shorter, more petite version of my already tiny mom, heading off to school with a backpack and a belly full of butterflies. Even scarier than when I went to school.

  “Life is full of adventures.” She nodded as if in approval of her own words. “Try to think of it like that. An adventure.”

  I swallowed my fear and guilt and said, “Can I talk to you about something?”

  “Of course.”

  Before I could stop myself, I spilled it all. Everything about my worries and about Jackson. I needed an adult—someone who knew how to deal with the situation.

  Mom listened to the entire thing, and then said she’d talk with Dad. It was the best I could do right now. I’d see Jackson today and maybe he’d give me good news. Maybe everything would be fine.

  After giving Mom another hug, I walked to the elevator and slipped my shoes on, pretending this was something I did all the time. Getting the mail, going to school, going out with friends. An adventure.

  Checking for the third time to make sure I had my key card and my wallet in my purse, I pressed the elevator button and rode to the lobby. The man at the desk greeted me like he’d taken to doing when I’d started coming out of my apartment more and more.

  I smiled, made myself say hi, and walked across the lobby one tile at a time. No Jackson yet. That was okay. I was a few minutes early. Though, he usually was, too.

  I stopped in front of the revolving door, staring out at the overcast afternoon. I hadn’t been outside of the building (besides the rooftop and balcony) since I went to lunch with Mom. The thrill that ran through my body was tinged with terror. How was it possible to want something so much and be so afraid of it?


  My chest started to get tight, and panic clogged my throat. No, no, no…

  Then Jackson appeared outside the door, hands in his pockets, and all my worries melted away. He stared up at the building, his face thoughtful, then lowered his gaze. His eyes met mine through the glass.

  He smiled.

  Heart fluttering, I walked through the revolving door and joined him on the sidewalk. A breeze blew by, and I tugged my cardigan tighter around my body.

  “I missed you,” Jackson said, drawing me close.

  I went into his arms, for a moment forgetting what happened yesterday. “I missed you, too.”

  “You look nice in that color.”

  “It’s Mae’s,” I said.

  He eased back to look at my outfit again. “I like it better on you.”

  Laughing, I dropped my chin. His shoes were scuffed, almost worn through on the big toe. My stomach somersaulted. “Jackson…”

  “Zoe.”

  The smile in his voice made me look up. “I thought maybe you weren’t coming.”

  He clasped his hand around mine. “Why wouldn’t I come?”

  “Did something happen with your dad?”

  He shifted from one foot to the next, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown. Someone bumped me from behind, and I stumbled, my cheeks flushing. “Sorry.”

  My heart squeezed in my chest, warning me this was the real world I stood in, not my safe room.

  “Zoe,” Jackson said. “Look at me.”

  I exhaled and met his eyes.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  It felt colder than it had a minute ago. I shivered.

  “Do you need to go back inside?”

  Yes. No. I shook my head, but the pressure in my chest wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t just because I was outside. It was Jackson, and me worrying about him, and the fact that I’d actually told Gina I might go to school. And graduation was less than three weeks away. It hit me all at once. It was too much.

  But that wasn’t Jackson’s problem. He already had so much to deal with.

  “Close your eyes,” Jackson said.

  I glanced around. People walked everywhere, crossing streets, talking, laughing, shouting. “I don’t—”

  “Who cares about them?”

  He set his hands on my arms, thumbs brushing lightly on my sweater. “Close your eyes. No one is looking at us, no one cares.”

  Sure. If you were Jackson. I was Zoe. I was hyperaware of everything, even if it wasn’t my problem.

  I did as he said and closed my eyes. I was supposed to be making him feel better and instead, he was helping me.

  “Good,” he said. “Whatever you’re worried about, we’ll fix it.”

  “But—”

  “No arguments.” There was laughter in his voice. And then, as if reading my mind, he said, “Don’t worry about me.”

  I shivered when I felt his lips touch mine. “You can’t stop me.”

  He kissed me again, one hand brushing my cheek so softly I could barely tell it was there.

  I opened my eyes to find him staring at me. “What happened with your dad yesterday?”

  “I don’t want to ruin the day.”

  “I want you to stay with us. Or Robert, maybe—”

  “Why does this have to be a big deal?”

  “Because I really care about you. A lot.”

  And it was growing into something more. Something I was afraid to even think about.

  The moment the words registered on his face, I ducked my chin. My shoes looked brand new. Clean. No frayed laces or scuff marks. My heart slammed into my ribs. The air thinned, no longer reaching my lungs.

  “I really care about you, too,” Jackson said.

  The world stilled around me. For once, I didn’t care who was looking, who stood near me, who heard me.

  He pulled me close in a hug, breath touching my hair. “This is a good thing.”

  It was. It felt like us against the world, and we would come out on top.

  When I looked up, Jackson smiled at me. “Let’s enjoy the day.”

  Because I didn’t want him to stop smiling, I set aside what I wanted to say about his dad. I didn’t want to ruin what we’d just said to each other.

  51.

  JACKSON

  I took Zoe to the art museum first. I knew how much she wanted to see it. She stood there for a full minute, looking up at the building, staring at the strange industrial lines of it. Trying to make sense of the shape.

  It made me feel better than I’d felt all day. I’d managed to make it through a day of school, but it wasn’t easy. I kept thinking about my dad. I’d avoided Mae and Robert because I didn’t want to talk to anyone. But by the end of the day, I knew meeting with Zoe would help get my mind off all the stress.

  Next, I showed Zoe another one of my favorite pieces of art, a giant dustpan with a broom attached. It reminded me of Horse on Chair. You could take it literally or find all sorts of hidden meanings while staring at it.

  Then she turned to futuristic Stonehenge, her head angled. “This is interesting.”

  She had a better eye for art than I did, so I didn’t say anything about how I thought it was weird. But none of that mattered because Zoe was out here. With me.

  And she’d told me how much she cared for me. How did that even make sense?

  All this time, I’d been playing chess with a girl who barely knew me, trying to find a way into her world. And now I had.

  Even the shit with my dad yesterday couldn’t ruin that.

  Zoe touched the stone, rubbing her hand on the smooth surface. “It’s kind of creepy.”

  I laughed and wrapped my arms around her waist from behind, dropping my chin to her neck. “It is creepy. I like the one on the other side better.”

  She settled her hand over mine, our fingers entwining. “Show me.”

  “As you wish.” I released her and gestured. “This way.”

  We walked around the building, passing kids on the sidewalk and a bus full of tourists who’d stopped to see the library.

  “The building is like art,” she said, dodging someone who had pulled out his camera. “Can we go inside?”

  “Of course. I’ll show you my favorite spot after we see Yearling.”

  “What’s Yearling?”

  I pointed to the sculpture.

  She stopped walking and laughed. “That’s a horse on a chair.”

  “Right.”

  Grinning, she said, “I like it.”

  “Me, too. I can show you more. There’s so much to see. The whole world.”

  “Maybe we’ll stick to our art tour today. But…”

  “What?”

  “You’re right. There’s a lot out here to see.”

  Taking her hand, I led her into the library. I didn’t miss the way she watched everyone else as they walked by, or how she grimaced when a group of teenagers exited the front doors, surrounding us.

  “One minute,” she said.

  I stopped by her, alarmed. “What?”

  She pointed to the corner, away from people. “Can I just have…one minute?”

  It sounded like she was having trouble breathing. I quickly walked to the corner with her, wishing there was something I could do. But being quiet seemed like my best bet. I waited, listening to her breathing, but kept my gaze averted so she could compose herself.

  “It’s… Sorry,” she whispered.

  I looked back. “Are you okay?”

  She clutched one hand at her chest but nodded. “I’m okay.”

  “You sure? We can go back.”

  “No. No way.” She smiled at me, and even though it wobbled some, it was sincere. “I want to do this. I’m going to do this.”

  “Okay. Anything you want.”

  After another moment, she took my hand. “That’s better.”

  “You’re good?” I asked.

  She glanced around. Probably to see if anyone had been watching. No one even looked at us.
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br />   “This is just…a lot.” She lifted her chin. “Yes, I’m good.”

  I squeezed her hand and led her into the library, vowing to try to keep her distracted so she’d have less to worry about.

  “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?” I asked.

  She lifted her head, staring at the tall ceiling as we entered. “I don’t know. Maybe Japan, to visit my family. It would be cool to make a paper village of an old Japanese town. Pagodas and temples, fishing boats, and—” She broke off, blushing.

  “Don’t stop. Keep talking,” I said, squeezing her hand again. I led her to the second floor, walking through the aisles of books and watching her face as she took it all in. “You’d visit Japan. Where else?”

  “Maybe, uh…college somewhere.”

  I grinned at her. “Boulder has lots of good hiking close by. I went there a few times with my mom.”

  And, of course, that’s where I was going for college. I kind of liked the idea of Zoe being there in the future.

  “I could take all the astronomy classes you’re going to take,” she said. “I bet they have huge telescopes you can see Saturn with.”

  She made it sound magical. I reminded myself how lucky I was to be able to go. Even with all the hard things standing in my way, I had a chance to start over there. I needed to do it.

  “You should start with high school,” I told her, changing the conversation.

  She stopped in one of the aisles, tracing her hand over the spine of a book. “I talked to Gina about that. Maybe starting this fall. It’s going to be overwhelming.”

  “I’ll help you. Zoe, this is…”

  “Scary.”

  I put my hands up on the shelves, on either side of her shoulders. “Scary. Intimidating. Wonderful. An adventure. You could do it, I know you could.”

  “It’s just an idea. And I know what you just did there.”

  “What?”

  “Changed the subject.”

  I leaned in to kiss her, loving the way her eyes automatically dropped shut. Like she was waiting for something she knew would change her day. Her week. Her life.

  “It’s because I want you to go to school,” I murmured.

  She slid her arms around my waist. Her head barely came up to my chin. Her phone buzzed with a text, and she released me. She pulled it out of her pocket, looking at the message.