“Well, not if you were playing Rockefeller Street.”
“I mean, obviously that’s my game of choice.” She laughs. “But I can sacrifice some Roblox time for this. I actually enjoy seeing people’s faces when I hand them paper hearts. It’s like I’m Santa with my tote bag.”
“Or Cupid,” I say.
“Yeah, that would make a lot more sense, wouldn’t it?”
I notice her tote bag is different from the last one I saw. This one says guac is extra but so are you. I’m about to ask her where it’s from because I like it so much, when I see her looking around like she’s worried who might see us together.
“Well, this Cupid is off to make more end games happen. See you around.”
“Oh, okay…bye,” I say, stuffing the paper hearts in my backpack.
All but my watercolored paper heart.
Chapter 12
“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Pete!” Carmen squeals louder than the time she did when he wrote Love, Pete on my birthday card. I thought things might be awkward between us after the ride to school this morning, but I was so wrong. Not when I have the kind of gossip that she’s been waiting for. We’re in her car, and she’s hanging on my every word.
“Let’s not make a big deal of this. It’s just a date….” I trail off.
“Too late,” she says. “This is a very big deal. I knew he’d want you back. You guys are perfect for each other.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say. “I did break up with him last year, after all. But it feels like it can be different this time.”
She looks at me. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. He just seems changed.”
“Changed how?” Carmen asks, eyeing me.
“I don’t know exactly. I guess I’m just excited we’re going out on Friday. We never used to do that sort of thing.”
She nods. “He’s definitely trying to impress you. This is good.”
I realize I’m leaving out the whole paper hearts part. That’s what makes him the most different—if it’s him. It could still very well be Carmen, but either way I’m keeping my mouth shut as we continue to drive. She’s taking me to the library to drop my book off before heading home.
The last paper heart is still on my mind. See a castle from a view as beautiful as you. I’ve been thinking about what it could mean all day and I still have no idea. There’s also a number 6 underneath…or maybe it’s a 9.
I want to check the paper heart again, but I feel guilty even thinking about this now. I haven’t been able to forget what Carmen said to me about being a bad friend. In a way, it’s almost as haunting as the accident itself. Can you truly apologize for your behavior if you don’t remember it?
“So how are things with Anthony?” I ask.
She keeps her eyes on the road. A small smile escapes her lips. “Perfect.”
The rest of the ride I happily talk about Anthony and Carmen instead of me and Pete. She completely gushes about Anthony, and Carmen never gushes. In fact, I’m normally the one with a crush, and she’s the one who finds something wrong with pretty much everybody. Tons of boys have liked her, but she always has some excuse: Too short. Gross. Or, if they’re neither of those things: he seems like he likes me a little too much, you know? And the truth is no, I don’t.
Sometimes I think she gets these phrases from her mom. I’ll always remember when Carmen found out her parents were getting divorced at the end of sixth grade. One day her dad just got up and left them. Carmen was devastated. To be honest, I don’t know if she ever got over it.
Now Carmen’s always trying to help her mom find the right guys. She goes through her mom’s online profile. She says that even the ones who look good online end up being total duds on the actual date, which is a shame because I love her mom and she deserves the best man ever. Sometimes I wonder if she’s just afraid of getting hurt, though, and writes people off. Carmen used to tell me stories of how she’d hear her mom crying at night, but when she asked her, she’d deny it. Carmen’s like that too. When she’s upset, she keeps it all bottled up. The only way I can ever tell something is going on is when her face gives her away. Just like her eyes give it away when she’s lying, her lips give it away when she’s upset. She presses them together like she did earlier, so tight it’s like she’s trying to press all the emotion out of her.
When people ask about my accident in front of her or talk about the dance, it looks like she has no lips at all. At least her expressions make it obvious. People shut up immediately. One time when I was binge-watching Law & Order, I decided that Carmen would make a good interrogator.
But the way Carmen’s looking right now makes me happy. I can see in her eyes that she’s genuinely happy. I’ve known Anthony since middle school. I know that he laughs at his own jokes and that he always gives the wrong answer when he’s called on in calculus, and sometimes after gym class the amount of Axe he puts on makes me dizzy. But Carmen knows these things too, and if she still thinks he’s perfect, I’m thrilled for her.
She tells me how they sat next to each other at the diner after the game. How he finally kissed her when they got outside. How she can’t wait until they kiss again. Her excitement is contagious—I want to want someone like that. The memory of Sydney telling me I was in love pops into my mind. Maybe you did feel that way before.
When we finally park at the library, Carmen checks her phone immediately. There’s already a new text from Anthony. Whatever it says makes Carmen smile. She starts replying instantly. Apparently, they’re already over the playing-hard-to-get stage.
I laugh. “You can stay here. I’ll be quick.”
“Sounds good,” she says without even looking up from her phone.
I slide out of the car and make my way to the library, with Pride and Prejudice in my bag. But once I’m inside, I see Sarah at the front desk, not Andy. I linger at the doorway for a second with a feeling I can’t explain. Am I disappointed? Andy must be growing on me.
Sarah’s smile is wide as she helps an elderly lady check out. When she’s done, she looks up and sees me at the doorway. I awkwardly wave, and as she waves back I wonder if she got my heart yet—until Andy suddenly pops out from behind a stack of books, a dimpled grin on his face.
“I knew you’d come by to see me,” he says with a wink.
“Yes, this has nothing to do with the fact that I finished my library book,” I deadpan.