Paper Girl Read online

  I sat on my bed and folded my arms. Of course I was mad at her. She knew how hard this was for me—she could have helped me out. Just a little.

  “There’s more where that came from,” I told her.

  She set the note on my desk. Just to prove how angry I was, I didn’t put the note back, even though it stared at me from the surface.

  “You know Mom and Dad just want you to get out. Do all the things they think a kid our age should do.”

  I leaned back on my pillows and rubbed my hand over a spot above my heart that tended to ache a little whenever I talked about all the things Mom and Dad wanted. What everyone wanted from me. I wanted those things, too. I didn’t want to be afraid of everything, but that’s just who I was.

  “Mom and Dad have pretty grand ideas of what a kid our age should do. I mean, come on. Mom likes having hundreds of thousands of people watch her on camera. Dad is pretty much the same. He actually likes talking to people he doesn’t know. And you…”

  She smirked. “What?”

  “You’re Miss Popular. Not all of us like to be the center of attention. How do you get up in front of stands full of people all the time?”

  She gathered her dark hair into a ponytail. It was the exact same shade as mine, but while hers was long and straight, mine stopped just above my shoulders and fringed my eyes with bangs I couldn’t seem to find the courage to grow out. Even our haircuts were as different as they could be.

  “It’s not a big deal. Everyone’s cheering and worked up. I just go for it. It’s fun.”

  Even the idea made my stomach hurt. “What if you mess up?” All those eyes staring at you, voices whispering about you. Nightmare.

  She shrugged. “Who cares? You think they’re perfect? You just shake it off and move on.”

  “I’m not quite that Taylor Swift,” I mumbled. “That’s the difference between you and me.”

  “Most everyone is too wrapped up in themselves to care about what you’re doing. And even if they do, it’s their problem, not yours.”

  I pulled a pillow into my lap and squeezed it tight. My arms throbbed. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Isn’t that what Dr. Edwards and Gina are trying to help you with?”

  “Yes.” But it was hard. Things always came easier to Mae.

  Mae shifted on the bed. “I think a tutor is a good idea.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” But she was right in a way. A tutor was better than going to school. It was an easier step, so I wasn’t completely overwhelmed.

  “No, really. Jackson is nice, and he’s really good at physics.”

  “Seems like he’s really good at everything,” I said, my attempt to make it sound like a joke not going over well.

  She smiled slowly. My cheeks caught on fire. Mae already knew I liked him. She had to, because every time I was around him, I couldn’t speak. Worse than usual.

  “You should show him your paper room. He’s totally into all that stuff,” Mae said.

  “P-paper?”

  She threw a pillow at me. “Stars and planets. Astronomy.”

  Like I didn’t know this. I’d listened to him enough and asked Mae enough questions to discover a lot of things he liked. “He probably won’t have time to tutor me. He’s probably busy.”

  “He does it all the time.” Mae grinned. “And I’m sure he’d be extra happy to work with you.”

  My heart lurched into my throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She jumped up from the bed and snatched my glasses off my end table. She put them on and said, “He asks about you sometimes. He’s like”—she switched to a low voice—“‘So how’s Zoe? Should we see if she wants to come out with us?’” Mae took off the glasses and switched back to her voice. “And I’m like, ‘No, she probably won’t want to.’”

  Which made me sad, because that wasn’t the entire truth. I wanted to, it was just…too scary.

  Mae returned the glasses to her face. “And he’s like, ‘Are you sure? It’s nice out.’”

  The words touched something in me. The part that longed to be close to someone else. “You’re just saying that.”

  She removed the glasses and set them next to the yellow sticky note. “Why would I do that? You know, the whole world isn’t out to get you.”

  I squeezed the pillow tight, swallowing hurt.

  Mae sighed. “Don’t look like that. I’m sorry. I agree with Mom and Dad, okay? So, I’m a traitor. I think you’re missing out on a lot, and you don’t even know it.”

  I knew it. I knew it so well my soul ached.

  “Fine.” Mae walked to the door, making bunny slippers and messy hair look fashionable. “But one day, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

  “In your dreams,” I mumbled.

  She flashed a smile at me. “I’m going to be checking my coffee tomorrow, just in case.”

  “I’ll do it when you’re least expecting it.”

  I threw the pillow at her, but she blocked it, and then she let out a squeal of laughter when I pretended to chase after her. Once she vanished down the hall, I closed my door, threw away the yellow sticky note, and sat at my computer.

  The chess match BlackKNIGHT and I had been playing for a week popped up. He was getting better. Probably because he’d copied my moves from our last game. He learned fast.

  I was wrong before. Mae understood me, but not better than BlackKNIGHT. Sometimes our conversations made me feel whole.

  And not alone.

  I wondered if BlackKNIGHT was good at physics.

  15.

  JACKSON

  The city dissolved outside the window. Rain had been pouring down on Horse on Chair the entire time I worked in the library, and my mood lifted despite the fact I hadn’t slept well the night before.

  I didn’t mind the back seat of the car, but I was short on places to park and I hadn’t chosen wisely last night. A police officer had tapped on the window at two a.m., jerking me out of a dream about climbing Mt. Everest and asking questions I couldn’t give the answers to.

  It took ten minutes to convince him I’d gotten locked out of my house and my cell phone battery was dead so I’d hopped in the back of my car to wait for my dad to get home and had fallen asleep.

  A lie, sure, but enough to make him let me go. And encourage me to get home.

  So I’d had to find a new “home” in the middle of the night, awake enough I couldn’t go back to sleep. Not when my mail was still in my backpack with my dad’s note confusing the hell out of me.

  He’d paid my phone bill. And my car insurance.

  It should have relieved me to find myself richer than I’d expected to be, but instead it threw off my rhythm. We had rules. We had an agreement. And he was ruining it. The least he could do was stick to something—especially this something—that made our lives so much easier. I couldn’t stand to live at home with him, and if he’d just let me have my space, maybe I’d be able to forget how badly he’d fallen apart after Mom’s death, when I’d needed him the most.

  Or how he hadn’t shown up for her last hours in the hospital.

  In the middle of my rare brood, Mae had called me with a request to tutor Zoe. Mom had always offered those cheesy one-liners, like, “When one door closes, another opens.” And this time she was right.

  I needed a job. I got one. I wanted to see Zoe, and now she was my pupil.

  See? I heard my mom’s voice in my head. Things always work out in the end.

  “It’s just a job,” I answered under my breath.

  Just what you needed.

  She was right. Even though she’d been gone for a long time, I could still feel her optimism.

  You’re going to help that girl, and everyone will be better for it.

  She was right about that, too. Except for one thing. “Hopefully she won’t be too scared of me to learn something.”

  Opening my laptop, I remembered the look in Zoe’s eyes when she ran into me at her house. Panic, pure and simple. That was
pretty much the last thing a guy wanted to see when a girl who intrigued him met him head-on. Then she’d spent the rest of the time staring at my shoes.

  They were boring shoes. But I’d resort to putting math and physics equations on them if I had to. Or I’d talk to her about the paper Milky Way she’d strewn up around her study. How the hell had she done that? It wasn’t just planets and stars; I swear she had a wormhole in there.

  How did a perfectly normal teenager go from reading on the bleachers in high school to hiding in her house and creating galaxies of paper?

  I planned on finding out.

  The slow slide and thud behind me caught my attention. Dale rolled his cart, loaded with books, as he stocked the shelves.

  I opened my mouth to say hi. To say anything, because we’d never once uttered a word to each other except for my thank-yous when he gave me another offering. But what was I supposed to say to a man four times my age who knew nothing about me? Who I knew nothing about?

  He didn’t even glance my way, so I let him do his job and focused on my computer. Rogue2015 had made another move. I sighed. I was a seventeen-year-old senior, not a chess master. I should have been playing basketball or video games. Or working. Instead, I was hooked on a girl I hardly knew, studying her chess moves so she’d keep initiating matches with me, and intrigued by another girl who was even more of a mystery.

  Chess girl and paper girl.

  Definitely a sculpture someone should make.

  But Rogue…she wasn’t like Zoe. She told me things straight. She kept me motivated even when I wanted to give in. I was hooked on her because she was the best friend I’d ever had. The one person I could tell anything to—except that I was homeless. But I’d almost told her. When we’d been talking about secrets, I’d almost put it out there. Just to get it off my chest. And because I knew nothing could happen from it. I couldn’t get in trouble because I had no idea who Rogue was and she had no idea who BK was.

  Zoe, on the other hand—she couldn’t even look me in the eye. Maybe that’s why I was so intrigued. She’d seemed so confident on the bleachers that day, and this time…so scared. Even so, I wanted more. I wanted to know her and uncover all her layers.

  I pulled up some basic notes for algebra and physics, but I’d have to see what Zoe was working on to be useful. There wasn’t much time until the semester ended, which meant she needed help fast to get through her classes. We’d have to skip some of the basics and work hard to get her on track. Then, if we had time, we could start at the beginning and make sure she had the foundational tools for both her classes.

  If I even tutored her that long.

  Maybe she’d need help over the summer, too. To make sure she was caught up.

  Two books slid onto the edge of the table next to me. I glanced up, but Dale was already walking away, pushing his cart to another grouping of shelves.

  I slid the books closer. The one on top was a book on chess. I glanced again to Dale with a grin. What? Had he been watching me? Watching me lose, probably.

  The book underneath was about black holes and “other cool cosmic things”—at least, according to the title. It also had sections devoted to constellations. I wondered how many of those were on Zoe’s ceiling.

  Maybe I could suggest we work in her study so we’d have a distraction topic in case she didn’t want to talk to me. Or maybe…just because I really wanted to see her art.

  I clicked over to the University of Colorado website and looked at the page for Astrophysical and Planetary Sciences. Part of me was afraid to look into it more. I still had a few months left of school, three months until I turned eighteen, and a whole summer to get through. Not to mention I had to save my ass off to even make it through the first semester. But here it was. The dream. Not just mine—my mom’s.

  I only let myself look for one more moment before pulling up the site for my phone bill. My stomach clenched.

  The screen read, Thank you for your payment! and showed a balance of $0.00.

  He really did pay it. My dad had paid my phone bill. And my part of the car insurance as well.

  Shit. What was he doing? How had he even had the presence of mind to remember there were bills to pay, let alone pay them?

  Someone had said something. Social services had come by or—

  I shut my laptop. For my dad to act like he was a real father, there had to be a problem. That was the only thing I could think of.

  After all, he hadn’t said more than ten words to me in the last year and a half. He had no idea what it meant to be a parent, and he had no reason to start being one now.

  Something was wrong. It had to be.

  With a heavy sigh, I gathered my items. I couldn’t focus now. I shoved my books in my backpack and rode the escalator to the first floor. I waved to Diane, who spent most of her mornings listening to books on tape in her headphones while she dusted every wooden surface in the large library. I took a left into the children’s section, passed two kids playing checkers on a large felt checkerboard, and walked to the pavilion.

  Story time was over for the day, so I sat in the middle of the floor and gazed up at the room. It looked almost like a tree house from outside, and even though the inside wasn’t as exciting, it still gave me good memories.

  My mom used to volunteer to read here. All the kids would circle around her while she rhymed Dr. Seuss or said good night to everything around the room and then pretended to sleep.

  She had been fascinated with the stars, with everything “out there” that kept us asking questions. So many things in my life kept me questioning right now, it was nice to have a constant. The library. The memory of my mom. Even Chess Challenge.

  Rogue was always there, always making life seem a little easier. Too bad I had no idea who she really was.

  16.

  BlackKNIGHT: Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?

  Rogue2015: I’m 16. Doesn’t it say that on my profile?

  BlackKNIGHT: Just wanted to hear it from you. See? That wasn’t so hard.

  Rogue2015: How do you know I’m not lying?

  BlackKNIGHT: I didn’t consider it until you said that. But…I don’t think you’re lying.

  Rogue2015: Why not? You barely know me.

  BlackKNIGHT: I know more than you think. You’re short. You’re 16. You’re a girl.

  Rogue2015: How do you know I’m short?

  BlackKNIGHT: You said once that short people are discriminated against.

  Rogue2015: I was joking.

  BlackKNIGHT: There’s always some truth behind humor.

  Rogue2015: I never said I was a girl.

  BlackKNIGHT: Your screen name is Rogue. Easy.

  Rogue2015: We should play the game.

  BlackKNIGHT: :-) One more thing. You’re shy.

  Rogue2015: How do you know that?

  BlackKNIGHT: Every time I compliment you or try to talk about you, you steer us back to the game.

  Rogue2015: I do not. But really, this game is taking forever. We should play.

  BlackKNIGHT: :-) I have a question, though.

  Rogue2015: Is it about chess?

  BlackKNIGHT: It’s about a girl.

  Rogue2015: Ah.

  BlackKNIGHT: What’s that supposed to mean?

  Rogue2015: Nothing. I don’t know how much help I’m going to be with girl issues.

  BlackKNIGHT: We just established you’re a girl, right? You’re already way ahead of me. I don’t know how to get her to open up to me.

  Rogue2015: You could play chess with her.

  BlackKNIGHT: Well, sure, that’s a good fallback, but I want her to talk to me, too.

  Rogue2015: I’m definitely not going to be any help with that. Why do you think I’m on Chess Challenge? No face-to-face. Then I can be who I really am.

  BlackKNIGHT: And you can’t do that in person?

  Rogue2015: Not as easily. It’s hard to talk to people in person. So much pressure. What about you?

  BlackKNIGHT: Can I
be me? In person? I think I can. You think that’s what I should do?

  Rogue2015: Absolutely. But first, you should prepare yourself. I’m about to take your king.

  BlackKNIGHT: #@!$

  17.

  ZOE

  Gina was here again, in my paper room. She wore another fluffy scarf that looked like it had horses or dogs on it. She was trying to get me to open up, like always.

  In my fantasy world, I told Gina I knew she was analyzing me, and the only thing she really needed to know was that people—especially the analytical ones—were what scared me. In real life, I walked to the window in my study and stared at the tops of buildings. There was a rooftop garden on the next building over, and I spotted little specks of blue and red, people sitting at a table. Maybe drinking coffee. Things I felt like I might never do.

  Outside, a blackbird fluttered by the window and swooped to perch on top of the greenhouse. I’d watched a lot of things from this window. Garden parties, planes, fireworks on the 16th Street Mall on New Year’s Eve. The sun falling in rays that couldn’t quite seem to reach where I was standing.

  I might not be able to tell Gina how I really felt, but I was definitely better at the Quiet Game. She spoke first.

  “I’m really encouraged you’re going to go through with this tutor thing. Going to school is a huge step, so I think this is a more reasonable start. It’ll also be less stressful while you work toward attending Mae’s graduation.”

  “It wasn’t really my choice.”

  “You always have a choice. And what about socializing? It might help that, too. Another small step.”

  Having Jackson help me with math homework probably wasn’t fit to be called socializing. Staring at people’s shoes was more like…creepy. He’d be teaching; I’d be shoe watching.

  “Zoe,” Gina said, coming to stand beside me. She kept her distance, but it still felt too close. I stepped a foot to my right. “I know it’s hard.”

  How did she know? Was she a former recluse? Probably not. She didn’t dress like a therapist, she didn’t act like a therapist, so how would she know?