Paper Girl Page 10

  I gritted my teeth, stopping myself from saying anything. The less I said, the better. Mom used to be a big fan of letting people get it all out before you responded. She said sometimes people worked through an entire week of problems without you having to say a word. Kind of contradicted what she was telling me the rest of the time—to say how you felt—but it seemed to suit this scenario.

  “And you know what he said?” Robert asked.

  “He doesn’t care?” I couldn’t hold in the nasty comment.

  Robert wadded the transparent Twinkie wrapper in one hand and then passed it to the other, going back and forth a few times before he answered. “My mom said he told her he wouldn’t know because he can’t get a hold of you. He asked if she’d pass along the message to call him if she saw you.”

  The Twinkie churned in my stomach. For some reason, at that moment, I thought about Zoe and her paper room. Of her hiding inside, safe from the world while she made her own small, beautiful world around her.

  And I wanted to be there.

  “How long has it been?” Robert asked. “Since you saw him?”

  I willed myself to stay calm. “You know my relationship with my dad is complicated.”

  Robert nodded. “And has been since your mom died.”

  Since before my mom died. “Right.”

  He tried unsuccessfully to pat his hair into some semblance of order. “So you finally did it?”

  My mind drew a blank at his words. “Did what?”

  “Left home. Ran away like you used to say you were going to.” Robert frowned at the box of Twinkies then reached to draw another one out. He looked up at me. “Right?”

  I stared at my shoes. A Zoe move. I wanted my own paper room, sans Twinkies. Anything but to have to face this.

  “I get it,” Robert said. “If that’s what you did. But, man…this isn’t…”

  “It’s not your problem.” I shook my head when he lifted his eyebrows. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

  “The way that makes you sound like an ass?”

  I blew out a breath of laughter. “Yeah. That way. I meant it in the way that doesn’t want you to have to deal with it, to be involved in something you shouldn’t have to be involved in.”

  “And you should?”

  “It’s my life.”

  Robert finished the other half of his Twinkie in one bite and stood, stretching his long legs. Then he scratched his chin. “You can stay again tonight if you want. Mom and Dad won’t care.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m good.”

  “Jackson.”

  Giving him an easy smile, I repeated, “It’s my life.”

  He snagged the box of Twinkies and tossed them at me. “Better take nourishment, then.”

  With a laugh, I tucked the box under my arm while I grabbed my backpack. Even though the idea of Twinkies still made me queasy. “I’ve gotta get going.”

  “I’d ask you where you’re going, but I doubt you’ll tell me.”

  “To the library.”

  “Serious?”

  With another laugh, I headed to the door. “Serious. I have work to do.”

  “You work at the library?”

  I chucked the box of Twinkies back at him. “I think you need nourishment more than I do. No, I don’t work at the library. I study there. Maybe you should go back to bed.”

  Robert looked longingly at the couch. “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Do it. I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

  I let myself out and walked to my car. I opened the trunk and transferred my bag of toiletries to the duffel, tucking it next to the clothes I’d washed at the laundromat yesterday, and stuffing books and notes in my backpack instead.

  When I shut the trunk and glanced at the house, I saw Robert watching me from the window.

  It killed me that I couldn’t tell anyone about my situation, but it was better this way.

  Shooting Robert a wave, I climbed in the driver’s seat and checked my gas. I could drive to the library this once, since I didn’t feel like walking, and do some homework before I went to Zoe’s. Maybe apply for more scholarships. And then I’d figure out what to do about Dad.

  Tomorrow.

  25.

  BlackKNIGHT: My king is tired.

  Rogue2015: He hasn’t done much work.

  BlackKNIGHT: Sometimes it’s exhausting waiting for the next shoe to drop.

  Rogue2015: He just needs a pep talk. Get your queen to cheer him up. Tell him all is not lost.

  BlackKNIGHT: All is not lost.

  Rogue2015: That’s right. Sometimes when you think you see the end, another beginning happens and you’re back in the game, so to speak.

  BlackKNIGHT: So we’re not talking about the game?

  Rogue2015: Sure we are. That’s what I meant.

  BlackKNIGHT: That felt like a pep talk.

  Rogue2015: Still waters run deep and all that.

  BlackKNIGHT: I’ll say. Tell me more.

  Rogue2015: About what?

  BlackKNIGHT: I need more. More pep talk.

  Rogue2015: Uh…

  BlackKNIGHT: More, please.

  Rogue2015: What’s your bright side?

  BlackKNIGHT: Excuse me?

  Rogue2015: You know how people are always telling you to look on the bright side?

  BlackKNIGHT: Yeah, people say that. I guess.

  Rogue2015: Yes, people say that all the time. My mom does.

  BlackKNIGHT: Your mom? Tell me about her.

  Rogue2015: Okay, erase that last line. Yes, people say that. So, what’s your bright side?

  BlackKNIGHT: Right now? Don’t have one.

  Rogue2015: You have to. Otherwise you might as well forfeit. Come on. What’s your bright side?

  BlackKNIGHT: Home.

  Rogue2015: Home?

  BlackKNIGHT: Never mind. Erase that last line. I should go.

  Rogue2015: BK…?

  (BlackKNIGHT has logged off.)

  26.

  ZOE

  Gina was evil.

  She had this plan to torture me. A way to help me get over my anxiety and join the real world again. But who really wanted to be part of the real world anyway? I mean, people were jerks. They drove badly and littered. There was pollution. Snow turned black with car exhaust and made you dirty. Everything cost too much.

  But no, she still had a plan because she said I needed to take steps if I was going to make it to graduation—and prom. Her words, not mine. So I had to wait all day long, through torturous hours of anxiety, for Mae to get home from school and help me, because she promised she would.

  Mae didn’t like breaking her promises, either.

  “This is just the first step,” Mae said as we stood together and stared at the elevator. She was evil, too, because she was making me do this.

  Not only that, she’d made me wear something other than my billowy dresses or leggings.

  We both wore skinny jeans and tank tops from her closet. I’d slipped on sandals with jewels decorating the straps. I looked like I could go out of the house, but I didn’t feel like it.

  Never mind the shoes. I couldn’t live in a sparkly world. That was looking at the bright side.

  My thoughts shifted to BlackKNIGHT and our strange conversation last night—how he’d vanished. I wanted to think we were two robots, emotionless shells just playing a game, but we were real people.

  If I expected him to look at the bright side, I should, too.

  “It’s just mail,” I whispered. “She just wants me to go downstairs and check the mail.”

  Mae nodded. “That’s right. Mail. Maybe that catalog you like is in there. Or the paper you ordered last week. Mail is fun.”

  A laugh bubbled out. “This doesn’t feel fun.”

  “That’s because you’re not used to it.”

  “Gina should have given me an easier task,” I mumbled. I could joke—on the outside—but my hands still shook. And on the inside, it was even worse. I felt like
a fragile single sheet of paper, ready to tear.

  “If it were easy, it wouldn’t do any good.”

  Mom joined us at the elevator. “Are we waiting for something?”

  “Yes.”

  “Zoe’s first step,” Mae said.

  “Ooooh.” Mom’s voice turned hushed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means she needs space,” Mae said.

  Mom blinked. “Space?”

  “Yes. Space.”

  “I only get one buddy.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the elevator doors. Gina had told me I could bring someone with me, but not to make it a big deal. To try to make it seem like this was something I do every day.

  My guess was so that she could make me do it every day. But who knew? This was only the first of Gina’s tasks for me. And if the first one was this traumatic, I was not in any way excited to hear about the rest.

  “I’m not your buddy?” Mom asked.

  Mae smiled at her. “Not today. Besides, you’re making a casserole.”

  Mom glanced back to the kitchen. “The oven is preheating.”

  “Mom,” Mae said.

  Mom lifted her hands. “Fine. Casserole. But I don’t get a casserole buddy.”

  She walked off, barefoot and mumbling about buddies, as Mae stepped to the elevator doors. “Let’s go.”

  “Right now?”

  “We’ve been standing here for ten minutes.”

  “I’m preparing. Mentally.”

  “You can’t prepare for everything. Life is going to throw curveballs at you all the time. You have to learn how to deal in the moment.”

  I nodded. What was my bright side? I stepped up to the elevator. After this, Jackson was coming. He was coming early, in fact. So I’d focus on the fact that I’d get to see him.

  Jackson was my bright side.

  “Press the button,” Mae said.

  I obeyed, my mouth going dry. I prayed for the elevator to break. To get stuck. Not my fault if it didn’t work.

  But after a short moment, it dinged, and the doors opened.

  “You have your key card?” I asked her.

  “Yes.”

  “And the mail key?”

  “Yes. Stop stalling. Get in.”

  One step. Two. Three. Four. Turn and face the doors. Four more steps for my total count. I could do this. It was exercise.

  I clasped my hands together tightly when Mae pressed the button for the lobby. My stomach lurched when the doors closed and the elevator started moving.

  Nausea crept up. Oh, no… “Mae, I don’t think I can—”

  “We’ll check the mail,” she said, smiling and pretending like everything was fine. “I’ll show you the doorman if he’s there. He always says, ‘Good morning, Miss King,’ when I go to school or practice, and when I come back, he says—”

  “‘Good afternoon, Miss King’?” I asked, though my voice was barely above a whisper.

  Mae grinned. “He says ‘Welcome back’ like he’s spent the whole time I was away pining for my return.” She fluttered her lashes. “And I smile at him like this. And he fumbles for the door handle to let me in.”

  The elevator continued to descend. I was pretty sure she was telling me this story to prove that I wasn’t the only one who got flustered, but all I could see were the numbers above the doors going down, down, down…

  Ding!

  Hands glued together, feet fused to the floor, all I could do was stare at the yawning lobby. It stretched long and wide with shiny tiles and contemporary furniture, metal, white, and clean.

  “We’re here,” Mae said, touching my arm.

  I forced myself to step out of the elevator before people walked up, wanting to get on. This is a bad idea, a terrible idea…

  The air was different down here. More constricting. It felt like I was a breath away from my lungs shutting off, my throat clogging, me passing out.

  “See?” Mae said. “It’s nice. You’ve got your odd grouping over here of chairs that look comfortable, but no one ever sits in. They’re right in the middle, and it’s awkward. Everyone would be looking at you.”

  “Everyone is looking at me,” I whispered, chest tightening.

  Mae laughed. “Really? That guy over there with the toupee? Nope, he’s watching that blonde with the generous…assets.”

  The pressure in my chest eased slightly. Mae led me a few steps to the right, toward the wide bank of windows that showcased a small courtyard.

  “And that lady? Nah, she’s focused on her kid. He just dropped his sucker on the ground, picked it back up, and stuck it in his mouth.”

  I followed her gaze and saw a sticky little kid and his mother’s horror as he dropped the sucker again. He bent to retrieve it, and she swooped in before he could.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “Welcome to the real world.” Mae pointed. “The mailboxes are over there.”

  My sandals tap, tap, tapped on the tile as we walked across the entire lobby, fifty shiny tiles, to a small alcove off the main desk. There was only one other person inside, checking her mail—an old lady wearing a hot-pink visor.

  I focused on her. Focusing meant shutting out the rest of the world. It was the only way I could do this.

  “Hello,” Mae said, nudging my arm.

  I forced my gaze up, met her eyes briefly, and mumbled, “Good morning.”

  The lady smiled, wrinkles lining the corners of her eyes. “Beautiful day out there.”

  “It is,” Mae answered, pulling her key out. “Great day for a walk.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Mae nudged me again, but I couldn’t force out anything else before the lady walked off. Her sneakers matched her visor.

  “Not bad.” Mae took out a pile of envelopes and passed them to me. “Now you should say hi to one more person. Without them talking to you first.”

  My heartbeat picked up. I looked through the lobby at the dozen or so people who were busy doing their own thing and didn’t need to be bothered by someone like me. They’re all looking at you.

  “Brett. The guy at the desk,” Mae decided. “He’s nice.”

  Clutching the letters close to my chest, I walked from the alcove and promptly bumped into someone. My breath caught as the envelopes scattered across the tiles.

  “Oh God, I’m sorry—” My gaze flashed up, and I got another jolt when I saw Jackson staring back. Then I promptly dropped to my knees to pick up the mail, my world tilting. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you—”

  Mae crouched next to me, and Jackson followed.

  “I keep bumping into you,” Jackson said, the usual smile in his voice. One of his sneakers was untied. “Sorry.”

  My cheeks lit on fire even as my panic made me speechless. This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening…

  “It’s just mail,” Mae said calmly, grabbing the last piece. “It’s fine.”

  No, it’s not. It’s not fine, everything is falling apart. My first venture out of the apartment, and it was all going wrong.

  When Jackson gripped my elbow to help me up, the air vanished from my lungs. I pressed a hand to my chest, the muscles constricting like a vise. I turned stricken eyes to Mae as the pain traveled to my shoulder.

  A heart attack. This was it. My body was finally shutting down.

  Breathe. Gina’s voice popped in my head. Yes, breathe. I wasn’t dying, I was panicking.

  “I…need to go upstairs.” The words were near impossible to get out. The elevators looked miles away.

  Jackson wouldn’t release my arm. “Are you okay?”

  When I couldn’t answer, Mae shook her head. “She’s fine. It’s—”

  Don’t say it, I silently pleaded with her. It was too embarrassing. But I couldn’t say anything because I couldn’t draw any air into my lungs.

  “She’s not feeling well,” Mae said.

  Jackson’s hand was warm when he slid it down to my forearm. “Upstairs then?”

  I gave a tight nod.
>
  My shoes sparkled with every step to the elevator, like Dorothy’s ruby slippers on the yellow brick road. We both just wanted to get home.

  And clearly, BlackKNIGHT wanted that, too. Whoever and wherever he was right now, I hoped he was finding a way.

  We reached the elevator after a million years, and Mae quickly pushed the button, her mouth pressed into a serious line.

  Jackson squeezed my arm, and even through the pain in my chest, I could feel the strength and certainty in his grip. “What did you learn today?”

  My mind whirled with possibilities. And then choked on reality. “It’s seventy-six steps from…from the mailboxes to the elevator.”

  The doors popped open, and he guided me inside. Mae used her key card and pressed the button for the top floor. When the doors closed, the rest of the air vanished with it. My fingers clawed at Jackson’s arm, squeezing tight.

  “Zoe?” Mae asked, her arm brushing mine. “Just breathe.”

  I could push air out, but not much would come back in. Panic gripped me, making me look at Mae.

  “Remember what Dr. Edwards said? It’s not going to kill you. You’re in control of this.”

  She was right. I knew deep down that a panic attack wouldn’t kill me. It was a matter of making it through the worst part and believing that I wasn’t going to die, even though it felt like it. The calmer I was, the faster it would pass.

  But instead of Dr. Edwards’s voice in my head, I heard Gina’s. These are steps, Zoe. Even if they’re hard, they matter. They’re progress.

  “Almost there,” Mae said.

  Jackson’s thumb rubbed my arm. “Did you know that you can get kidnapping and ransom insurance?”

  I took a short breath and ventured a glance up. “In case…you think you might get kidnapped and ransomed?”

  A smile in his eyes, he said, “Absolutely. You can’t be too careful.”

  The pressure in my chest eased some. “Can you get it on your pets?”

  “Hmm, not sure on that one.”

  The elevator reached our floor. Mae was out fast, looking toward the kitchen for Mom. I shook my head.

  “I’ll go distract her,” Mae said, kicking off her shoes and dashing away.

  I made it out of the elevator but stopped there, waiting for the worst to pass and grateful Mae was distracting Mom.