“Good night, Ella.”
“Good night,” I say, smiling back. And just like that my first real date is over.
Spinning around, I find the key in my pocket and let myself into my warm home. Once I’m inside, I remove my gloves and then check my phone. I didn’t have the urge to check it once on our date. But the smile still on my face quickly disappears when I see a string of texts from Andy.
Did you figure out your next paper heart yet? If not, I can help.
I hope that last text didn’t sound patronizing. I’m a #feminist.
OK. There’s no way this date of yours is taking this long. This guy does not look like he has anything interesting to say.
I text back immediately.
How do you know if he looks interesting???
In seconds I see three dots and then a new message appears.
Maybe I looked him up in our library system and saw his picture on his library card…
I laugh and type back one word.
Stalker.
His rebuttal is fast.
Excuse me. I thought after all these paper hearts, you were into this sort of thing.
It makes me laugh.
If you imply the paper hearts are creepy again, you won’t get to go on the next adventure with me.
I wait for him to reply right away like he has been doing, but he doesn’t. Maybe I was too harsh? Whatever, it’s true. He thinks he knows everything. My conversations with Pete were interesting. I enjoyed hearing his stories—or at least I thought I did. Why am I letting Andy make me doubt myself? Contrary to what he may believe with Hot Chocolate Theory and all, I’m not the kind of girl who just wants the romance. I do want love. I just haven’t found it yet. I groan and head upstairs.
When I get to my bedroom, I crouch down on the floor, peeling back the fuzzy rug next to the bed to my secret hideaway.
The hot chocolates Pete and I drank had those paper sleeves wrapped around them. I had discretely snuck mine into my purse when Pete wasn’t looking before we threw our empty cups out in the recycling bin.
I open the floorboard now to put my first-date sleeve inside. It’s been a while since I’ve had anything new to add.
Out of habit, I look at my three mystery items. The flower, the Polaroid photo, and the key. Something about seeing my smile in the Polaroid makes me sigh. I so want to be that happy again. Why couldn’t I just figure out what this all means?
I flip the photo over in my hands and see the handwriting scrawled on the back.
NYC 2/8
I have a flashback to the last time I was in the city. Not the time on 2/8—I don’t remember that—but the time before, when I went to see a Broadway play with Ashley and my mom. It was right after the holidays, and there were snowcapped towers, and lights shining in every window.
Suddenly, I think back to the paper heart I haven’t been able to solve. See a castle from a view as beautiful as you. Could the castle be in New York City?
I whip out my phone and google castles in Manhattan. The first thing that comes up is a place called Belvedere Castle. It’s in the middle of Central Park.
I start scrolling through all the images on Google until I see the lamppost outside the stone walls. I zoom in, my hand shaking excitedly. It’s the same one from the Polaroid. Just when I don’t think my heart can beat any faster, I hear a knock on my door.
“Just a second!” I say, scrambling to shove the photo and everything else under the floorboard and throwing the rug back over it. “Come in,” I say once I’m sitting on my bed.
My mom pops her head in. “Just wanted to say good night. How’d the date go? We missed Pete.”
“Great,” I say, my heart still beating fast.
“Okay, okay, we don’t need to talk about it. Good night.”
“Good night.”
When the door shuts behind her, I let out a sigh of relief. That was close. But not as close as I feel to answers. I look at my items again, this time seeing them in a new light.
The rose must be from the florist I went to after the first paper heart. The photo was taken at Belvedere Castle. Now I just need to figure out the key—it must lead to something important. I take my key chain out of my purse. I haven’t driven in almost a year but I still carry it around because other important things are on it like my school ID and the keys to my house. I slide the new key onto my chain—maybe one day soon I’ll know what it’s for.
I pull out my phone to look at pictures of the castle again when I see a new text from Andy.
Please forgive me. I’d really like to go on this adventure with you.
“I’m going tomorrow,” I type back. And I need to know that number now, I think.
When? Does this mean you solved it?
Yes. 9 AM
I see the three dots appear and then his reply.
It’s a date.
I know he’s just teasing, so I send a joking text right back.
I can’t date you Sherlock. I’m a professional.
As long as that’s your only excuse.
I don’t know if it was meant to be as flirty as it seems, but I can’t help blushing before I type back.
See you tomorrow and bring that paper heart.
Chapter 14
“Why can’t you just download your ticket like everyone else?”
Andy and I have just arrived at the train station and he insists on purchasing a physical copy. He starts pressing the buttons on the screen.
“I thought you’d appreciate old-school, Miss Paper Hearts Girl.”
“That’s different,” I say. “This is a waste of time. We could be on the train already.”
“Go check the track, will ya?” he says, smiling. “You’re making me anxious.”
“Fine,” I say, leaving him as he reaches for his wallet.
The train station is normally busy on weekends and today is not an exception. I zigzag through a Girl Scout troop and a large family wearing matching New York Knicks beanies. When I make it to the screens listing the train tracks, I crane my neck to read it before looking back down at the person standing next to me. It’s Sarah.