Paper Girl Page 3

  “I understand,” Gina said, and I was afraid she did.

  I was afraid she’d already learned more about me than Dr. Edwards had in the entire time he was my therapist, and I wasn’t sure whether it gave me hope or scared me to death.

  9.

  JACKSON

  After school, I played basketball in the gym for an hour with Robert and some of the other guys from the team. Mae and Kelly were there with the cheerleading squad, ruffling pom-poms and practicing dance moves.

  I glanced to the bleachers where Zoe used to sit. I didn’t know why I kept thinking about her. Probably because of the chess game. But I wanted to see her again.

  Robert made the last shot and then scooped Mae into his arms.

  “Ew!” she squealed. “You’re sweaty! I was going to invite you over to my house, but I don’t think I’d survive.”

  Robert lifted his eyebrows at her. “I was going to take a shower first. You can help.”

  Mae rolled her eyes. “You’re delusional.” She turned her attention to me. “We’re going to my house to watch a movie. Would you like to come?”

  Mae’s mom always had cookies or something she’d made fresh sitting on the island in the kitchen. Their television was as big as my car, and their penthouse had the best view in the whole city. It was a real home.

  Also, Zoe.

  I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Even better—I’d get a shower beforehand. A lot better than working to hunt one up.

  As we rode to the penthouse, I thought about how long it had been since I saw Zoe. I’d been to Mae’s house a handful of times, but hadn’t glimpsed her even once. I wanted to uncover the mystery of her disappearance. Maybe ask her for chess tips so I could move up to number three on the Chess Challenge scoreboard. A little closer to Rogue.

  Mostly, I just wanted to get to know her better.

  Which meant I was going to have to work a little harder to see her.

  My shoes squeaked on the shiny tile when I entered the lobby of their penthouse. It never ceased to make my jaw drop. I could have fit my entire home—my old home with my dad—in the lobby and still had space to move around.

  I made the excuse of needing to wash my hands so I could look for Zoe. I left the others in the kitchen and took my time walking down the hall as they laughed and joked behind me. At the end of the hall was a bedroom, probably the master, and an office next door.

  Music throbbed from the closed door of another room, and I paused outside of it, trying to hear what was playing. I could only pick up the murmur of words, soft singing, and drums that drowned out the rest.

  Was Zoe inside?

  Not like I could knock. I barely knew her.

  Rather than stand like an idiot outside her door, I walked into the bathroom.

  Mrs. King had set out bars of soap in a shallow bowl. They looked brand new. I wondered if anyone used them or if they were just for show. They even matched the towels. I bolstered a smile, trying not to remember that this wasn’t my life. That I didn’t have designer towels or soap. I didn’t even have a bathroom.

  Why hadn’t Dad changed his life after what happened to Mom? Weren’t things like that supposed to bring families together? I didn’t need fancy bathroom accessories or even a clean house, I just needed a home.

  I washed my hands without soap and dried them before I could lose my good mood. Moving on had done me a lot more good than dwelling.

  When I returned to the kitchen, Mrs. King greeted me with a plate of sugar cookies. Her eyes crinkled deeply with her wide smile.

  “Good to see you again, Jackson.”

  “How are the videos coming along?” I asked, accepting a cookie and sitting on a stool at the island counter. I wanted to take three more, my stomach grumbling at the fresh smell of sugar and spices, but I held back.

  “Great. Two hundred new subscribers this week.”

  “And your camera equipment?” As one of my odd jobs, I’d helped her hook up her new recorder and computer so she could play back and edit her videos, and she’d paid me with enough money to feed me for almost a month.

  “Great. It’s working well. I just did a whole segment on how to get more Instagram followers. A big hit with the younger crowd.”

  “You’re a regular celebrity,” I said.

  Mae rolled her eyes at me, and I buried a grin. Sucking up to her mom was one of my favorite things about visiting the King household. Sure, it was partly because she force-fed me cookies in handfuls, but also because she actually cared. She cared about Mae’s cheerleading and her homework and eating dinner together as a family as often as possible and making DIY videos, among others, to share with the world. She was all about family and keeping a family running smoothly.

  I wondered what she’d think if she knew I slept in my car last night.

  “You kids excited about graduation?” Yoko asked.

  “I’m sure Jackson is,” Mae said, shoving my shoulder. “He’s going to be valedictorian.”

  Yoko’s eyes crinkled again. It was hard to remember her family had come from Japan. She’d been immersed in American culture so long, she barely had an accent. She even used Mae’s teenager slang sometimes, whatevs and totes adorbs, which embarrassed Mae and entertained the rest of us.

  I wouldn’t have minded a mom to be embarrassed about.

  “Valedictorian?” she asked. “Really?”

  I shrugged. I knew I was, though. I didn’t have much of a choice if I wanted my scholarships to go through. I had to be on top of my game at school, at work, in my lies…but I’d be eighteen this summer, and things would be easier—even if I had to work my ass off to make extra money.

  “Don’t be modest,” Robert said. “He’s taking every AP and honors class he can, and working, too.”

  “Where are you working?” Yoko asked.

  “I’m in between jobs right now,” I said smoothly. Which was true. I tutored a few kids during the school year and then helped paint a house last fall. I was stalling on getting something new, maybe because I was still waiting for that magic number to make it all easier. Eighteen. But I really needed to do something soon.

  “What about tutoring?” Mae asked. She’d only eaten half of her cookie and the rest sat on a decorative plate in front of her.

  I tore my eyes away. “I’m always available if you know anyone who needs me.”

  And hopefully she did. Just one more job would finish up the community service hours I needed for college.

  “You should tutor Zoe,” Mae said, glancing at her mom.

  I angled my head. “Zoe?”

  Like I didn’t know who she was. The idea of seeing Zoe again and a possible tutoring job had me smiling.

  Yoko sighed, rearranging a trio of perfectly placed candles. “It’s math mostly. And physics. But that’s a lot of math, right?”

  I nodded. Physics was my specialty. But calculus could put me in a good mood, too. Kind of like Horse on Chair. You got what you saw. It was definite.

  Robert started talking basketball, and Yoko turned her attention to him while I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Rogue2015 had left me a message.

  Say hello to my little friend.

  I laughed when I saw she’d taken my knight with her bishop, and immediately I typed, Don’t get too cocky, before I made my move on our virtual chessboard.

  I snagged another cookie and followed Mae and the group into the living room for the movie, discreetly keeping up my conversation with Rogue2015 the entire time. I didn’t have many days where the world seemed to work out just how I wanted it to, so I planned on enjoying it.

  10.

  Rogue2015: If Wolverine and the Hulk were friends, would they play chess?

  BlackKNIGHT: Depends. Is the Hulk angry?

  Rogue2015: Why does that matter?

  BlackKNIGHT: If the Hulk is angry, he has smash hands. They’re too big to move pawns.

  Rogue2015: Good point. Then no, he’s not angry.

  BlackKNIGHT: Yeah.r />
  Rogue2015: Yeah, what?

  BlackKNIGHT: Yeah, they’d probably play chess. And yeah, you’re probably one of the most interesting people I’ve met.

  Rogue2015: Online?

  BlackKNIGHT: Anywhere. Online and in real life. Though, I’ve probably never been there.

  Rogue2015: Where?

  BlackKNIGHT: Wherever you’re from.

  Rogue2015: Maybe it’s not so interesting here and that’s why I play online. You ever think of that?

  BlackKNIGHT: No, I didn’t. I hear you, though. It wasn’t too interesting where I was from, either.

  Rogue2015: Was?

  BlackKNIGHT: Am. Was. I don’t know. I don’t really…

  Rogue2015: You don’t really what?

  BlackKNIGHT: My home life was complicated. So I decided to move out.

  Rogue2015: Where do you live now?

  BlackKNIGHT: Not at home.

  Rogue2015: What does that mean?

  BlackKNIGHT: It means I live here and there. It’s a long story.

  Rogue2015: I’ll let it go for now. But this sounds like a story that needs to be told.

  BlackKNIGHT: Maybe. So, what’s it like there? All corn and livestock? Big city? Eiffel Tower? Stonehenge?

  Rogue2015: It’s probably not too different from where you live. Although…sometimes it feels like a whole other planet.

  BlackKNIGHT: I know exactly what you mean.

  11.

  ZOE

  By the time Mae returned from school, I’d completed forty-nine circuits, half of Cassiopeia, and reviewed my mom’s YouTube video, Distressing a Dresser. And now I had to find somewhere to hide because Mae dragged Jackson home with her and I couldn’t be out there with him.

  I couldn’t talk to him. What was I supposed to say? I’d babble about chess and paper, and he’d look at me like he used to. Like he wanted to know more. But I couldn’t even say a whole sentence without stumbling over my words.

  I wished I could talk to BlackKNIGHT. He’d know what to do. What to say when you wanted to talk to someone so badly but you feared the worst.

  I ran out of my mom’s studio even as she yelled at me, “Wait, it’s not finished!”

  “Go make some cookies,” I shouted back.

  Mom had tens of thousands of subscribers waiting to see how to distress a dresser, but that wasn’t as important as hiding. Jackson was here, and he couldn’t see me like this: sans contacts and in my geeky glasses—or sans anything halfway cute. Not that he’d say anything.

  Jackson always seemed to be nice to everyone, and that was part of what made him so wonderful. One time he’d sat on the bleachers with me and listened to me blabber on about chess. I didn’t want to subject him to that again.

  Although I did kind of want to show him my paper wall—just because he was obsessed with astronomy. Mae said he was going to college to study that.

  I heard voices as I ducked into my paper haven. I recognized those voices because I listened to them all the time. Mae was only a year older than me, and even my parents couldn’t tell our voices apart. Her best friend, Kelly, was also a cheerleader, and she sounded like she’d just inhaled helium. Mae’s boyfriend was captain of the basketball team and joked a lot with Mae, which made her happy and made me gag. And then there was Jackson.

  No gag factor there. Just a smooth, musical voice that was constantly upbeat and inquisitive. I could hear his smile every time he talked. I was pretty sure I’d never met anyone who smiled as much as Jackson.

  Sometimes as they watched TV in the living room, I stood at the end of the hallway, just out of sight, and laughed at their jokes.

  I paused at the desk and decided to work on Neptune. I had a pile of blue and green sheets of paper that needed to be folded into 3-D shapes. I wished I could take an art class, but that would mean leaving the house. That would mean going to school and facing hundreds of students. Teachers who would expect me to speak up in class even if it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

  Dr. Edwards said lots of people had anxiety, and it didn’t have to come from some big, traumatic event.

  Being in my dad’s commercials felt traumatic, though. People watching you, telling you where to stand and how to act. I wasn’t a natural like Mae, and I always seemed to do it wrong. I’d completely missed the last one because of the fear. Because that was the day everything else had come crashing down on me, too.

  After that, I wasn’t just scared of commercials and public speaking and every single new social situation. I was terrified.

  My computer dinged.

  BlackKNIGHT had made a move.

  I leaned in and studied the chessboard onscreen. I was white, like always, and my opponent was black.

  “Crap,” I whispered. Smart move.

  Tapping my finger against my bottom lip, I debated. BlackKNIGHT wasn’t an idiot. He’d know what I was doing if I moved my rook. And he’d take it with his knight in a few moves if I wasn’t careful. Then again…

  Don’t go easy on me, BlackKNIGHT wrote.

  I smiled. In my fantasy, I was playing some genius college kid with nerdy glasses like me. One day he’d win a Nobel Prize or, even better, be signing autographs at Comic-Con for something geeky and awesome and he’d say how he owed his creative genius to Rogue2015 and all her hours chatting over magnificent chess games in the wee hours of the night.

  But most likely, he was a middle-aged man who lived in his parents’ basement and couldn’t play much during the day because he worked a nine-to-five job creating dull software programs or fixing broken iPhones.

  My fictional life was so much more exciting than the real thing.

  Either way, BlackKNIGHT was the closest thing to a best friend I had. He was also the only one who never tried to change me. Who accepted me like I was—even after I’d told him my fears about not being as much as I should be. And about not living up to my promise to Mae.

  I typed a message to BlackKNIGHT. You’re getting awful cocky. Then I smiled at his king sitting right there in the third row. I went for the intimidation move just to show him what he was dealing with—a play called the Absolute Skewer, forcing his king to move aside and let me take his knight.

  Then I asked him about the Hulk to take away the sting, and laughed at our exchange.

  After a short conversation, I snagged another piece of paper for the planet and frowned. Paper. Wasn’t Mom going to the store this afternoon? What if she left before I could remind her again?

  I reached automatically for my phone to text her and then frowned. My gaze swept the room and my desk again in case I missed it. Where was my phone? It had to be here somewhere. I closed my eyes with a sigh. Crap. I left it in the kitchen. Out there.

  I bit my lip and pressed my ear to the door. Nothing. No voices, no sounds of running water or dishes in the kitchen. Maybe they were in Mae’s room or out on the balcony. Kelly and Mae liked to practice their BE AGGRESSIVE, B-E AGGRESSIVE cheers in the sunshine on days like today.

  But where was Jackson? Outside, too?

  I needed that paper. I heard Mom’s voice, saying something about heading out. Paper, paper, paper.

  I could go fast. Run straight to the kitchen and back without anyone but Mom seeing me.

  With a deep breath, I opened the door. As I rounded the corner, I ran into someone so hard we both stumbled. Hands gripped my arms to help steady me. I winced at the pain in my shoulder even as my cheeks heated.

  “There goes my spleen,” Jackson said.

  Oh my God, oh my God, I broke his spleen. Was a spleen even something we needed? “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—”

  “Are you okay?”

  His hands were warm and solid on my arms. My neck was on fire, flames licking up the sides of my face. Like I was paper. I was paper, and I was about to become ash.

  “Um,” I said. “I’m—I’m okay. My spleen is intact.”

  His laughter made me blush harder, and I couldn’t meet his gaze. He wore Converse
. I spent a lot of time staring at shoes. He had big feet.

  Why couldn’t I talk to him like a normal person?

  It was so easy online. I could give advice to BK like I knew what I was talking about. But in real life, it wasn’t ever the same. The real world was like paper, and one screw up, one spark, and the whole thing would go up in flames.

  His silence lasted long enough to make me glance up. He stared into the study, gaze captured by the Milky Way.

  “Did you do all this?” he asked, taking an automatic step toward the door.

  I tried to block his path without touching him, embarrassed like I’d been caught playing Barbies. “Yes, but—”

  “Is that Venus?” He stood a whole head taller than me, but he still lifted on his toes to peer farther into the room. “And a meteor? Zoe…wow.”

  He’d never said my name before. A shiver rained down my body. “It’s just a—just a—”

  He stopped looking in the room in order to smile at me, eyes full on my face. He wore geeky glasses, too, but they made him look older. Smarter. Cooler. Confident. Everything that I wasn’t.

  He should have been labeled a nerd or a dork because he was so smart, but his rating on a scale of coolness was at least 150.

  -400 for being in the chess club at school. (Yes, it got points with me because chess ruled and it’s something we both loved, but at school, chess = dork)

  +575 for being on the basketball team

  -100 for being on the Honor Roll (although again, in my book, this was a +)

  +75 for actually looking cute in his thick-rimmed hipster glasses that weren’t just for show but for actual vision problems because, according to Mae, he was so blind he had to take his driving test three times.

  In my fantasy world, I took his hand and led him inside, saying, “Come and see,” in a voice equal parts sexy and mysterious. I was that perfect piece of paper. No creases, a color that was hard to find, the perfect shade to make something awesome—like a star cluster.

  “There’s supposed to be a meteor shower soon,” Jackson said. “Two nights in a row.”

  All sixty-two inches of me, foot to head, flushed. Small talk. I was terrible at small talk. Small talk was the bane of my existence. “That’s cool,” I said.