“It is a big deal,” I hear Andy say. “Sorry, I promised I wasn’t going to interrupt you.”
“Don’t worry,” I say. “It’s also okay that you’ve been making fun of these paper hearts. If I were you, I probably would too. But I guess my secret is the real reason I’m following these paper hearts—I hope I can get my memory back. That’s what the first one alluded to, anyway.”
As soon as I say it out loud, a weight lifts from my chest. Almost as if I just went to Confession. I let out a large breath that I hope Andy can’t hear.
“Okay, that was my secret. You can say something now,” I say. I expect him to start rambling right away, but there’s nothing. For a moment, I think maybe the wall has actually stopped working this time. What if Andy didn’t even hear me? But then I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I turn, and standing right behind me is Andy. “I thought you couldn’t hear me for a sec—” I say, spinning around, but before I can finish, his arms are around me. He’s hugging me right in the middle of Grand Central Terminal. I don’t care about people watching or about anything else around us. All I can sense are his hands gripping my back. He’s squeezing tightly, like he’s trying to press out any worry I have, and all I can do is hug him too. When I do, my face presses into his chest and I can smell his cologne through his parka. It’s soothing, just like his sturdy palms on my back.
Eventually he breaks the silence. “Don’t be so concerned with your past and your future that you forget how utterly incredible you are right now,” he whispers.
When he releases me, I feel a little dazed but mostly grateful.
It’s a hug I didn’t know I needed.
* * *
On the train, I hand Andy my paper heart and watch him download the songs to his phone. He puts them in an album he creates, called Paper Hearts Playlist.
Once he’s done, he gives me one of his AirPods and puts the other in his own ear. We sit listening to the love songs. Some are upbeat and lively; others are slower, with a hint of heartbreak. Andy has a corny way of bopping to the music that makes me laugh. He knows way more of the songs than I do.
“Can I ask a question?” I say, and Andy nods, removing his AirPod. “How do you know all these?” I ask.
“My dad was a big music guy,” he answers. “I mean, is. But now that we don’t live together, I don’t hear him blasting music in the shower anymore. I used to get so annoyed because it would wake me up in the morning, but now I kind of miss it.”
I nod. There are plenty of annoying things about my family that I’d probably miss if they were suddenly gone.
“You should tell him you miss that. I bet he’d appreciate it.”
He studies my face before saying, “Yeah, I should.”
Then he takes the AirPod out of my ear. “I know I said I wouldn’t talk about it…but what you said at the Whispering Gallery…Well, I really appreciate you telling me what you did back there.”
He smiles and puts the AirPod back in my ear, brushing my cheek as he does. My chest tightens. With the buds back in our ears, the music starts playing again.
When we’re about halfway through our journey, we start the playlist over again. It’s an unspoken agreement.
Soon I feel my eyes grow heavy. Before I know it, I feel Andy tapping my shoulder. I open my eyes to see him staring down at me. My face is completely plastered to his shoulder. I must have passed out and used him as a pillow. Thank God there’s no drool on his shirt. Or maybe there is, since he’s smiling at me like he’s about to tease me.
“We’re home,” Andy says.
I jump up in my seat. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m impressed by your ability to sleep like that.”
I am too. Looking at him now, all the memories of the day come flashing back to me, including telling him about my accident, and the way he brought my body to his when he hugged me.
“Let’s go,” I say without looking at him.
“Wait,” Andy says.
I think he’s going to tell me not to be like this, that it’s okay to let my guard down, but he doesn’t. He looks at me softly until finally he smiles.
“You still have my AirPod.”
I shake my head. “Oh, right.” I pull it out of my ear and hand it to him.
Our hands touch for only a brief second, but I suddenly have this weird feeling. A desire, really. Because when Andy looks at me again, it’s as if I’m still snow in December.
Chapter 16
I’ve had plenty of crushes. The kind that hit you the second you meet them. They’re called crushes for a reason. All of a sudden it feels like your heart is being squeezed, and it’s either because you’re about to explode with happiness or because you’re about to break into a thousand pieces.
Obviously, I crush hard.
But as Andy drives me home from the train station, I know this isn’t like my crush on Adam in elementary school, which started immediately after he shared his paints with me in art class. This is different.
Maybe a crush can be like a book you find at the library. First you’re drawn in by the cover. Then you try to find out what it’s about, so you read the little description on the jacket. Maybe it says exactly what you want to read, or maybe it’s mysteriously vague and it makes you even more curious. Either way, you decide that you’re going to choose this book knowing very little about it, but you have this excited feeling that if you dive in, you might be swept away. That’s the feeling I’m suddenly getting with Andy.
He’s like a story I can’t wait to read.
But what about my admirer?
I feel a surge of guilt just thinking about the paper hearts as soon as Andy pulls up in my driveway. The car stops and he undoes his seat belt.
“Where are you going?” I ask. He beats me at unbuckling our seat belts.
“Walking you to your door.”
This wasn’t a date—not a real one—so I didn’t even anticipate that he’d want to walk me. Maybe he’s not so jaded after all.
“Is that…okay?” he asks. My face must say it’s not. But really that’s because I’ve just decided that I might have a crush and now he’s volunteering to walk me to my door and I’m trying not to smile too hard. Could this mean he likes me too? What he said at the Whispering Gallery made it seem like he did, but he could just have been trying to be nice after I told him my big secret.