Paper Hearts
Before I could shake my surprise and formulate a response, Alec’s phone alarm beeped, signaling the end of the game. A few seconds later, several shouts rang through the woods as our friends regrouped. After that, it didn’t take long for Oliver, followed closely by everyone else, to find his way back to my tree.
“If nobody found Felicity,” he was saying, “then we win.” He came to a stop at the base of the oak and tipped his head back. “Felicity, you okay up there?”
“Over here,” I called as Alec and I made our way across the clearing.
His face fell when he saw us together. “Damn, he got you?”
I hesitated, not sure how to explain that I’d given myself up, but Alec answered for me. “Well,” he said, smirking at the group. “Not technically speaking.”
Xander frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I never officially tagged Felicity,” he clarified. “Robbers win.”
Oliver let out a celebratory victory whoop and pumped his fist in the air.
“But you two were together…” Xander said, his brows still drawn together in confusion.
“Let it go, X-Man,” JJ responded, slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “The superior team clearly triumphed.”
X-Man held up a finger like a lawyer about to argue his case but then sighed and dropped his hand. “Whatever.” He shook his head. “I’m not even going to bother.”
From behind, Oliver wrapped his arms around Stella. “Does the victor get a kiss?” he mumbled against her neck.
“Only if we’re done reliving your childhood memories,” she said. “This game is ridiculous, and it’s freezing out here.”
• • •
There was a wide smile on Xander’s face as he slid open the back door and stepped out onto the patio. In his hand was an acoustic guitar. “Found it!”
The rest of us were gathered by the built-in fire pit, warming ourselves after the damp chill of the forest.
“Where was it?” Oliver asked. He was sharing one of the wicker patio chairs with Stella, who was snuggled into his lap.
“In the living room, right where you said.” Xander gave the instrument a quick strum and fiddled with one of the tuning pegs. “Any requests?”
Stella pushed her boyfriend’s bangs back and smiled. “I wanna hear my song.”
Oliver inclined his head. “We can do that.”
I inched forward on my seat.
Everyone had been talking around the fire when Alec announced that we needed music. Which, in turn, had prompted Asha to ask if the band could play some of their songs. Now here we were, about to get our own private performance from the Heartbreakers.
A moment of silence passed when all I could hear was the crackle, pop of the wood as it burned. I watched Alec in anticipation. He’d retrieved his own guitar from the trunk of the Cadillac, and I was eager to see him in action. JJ started first, magically producing a pair of drumsticks from the waistband of his jeans as if he never went anywhere without them. He had no drum set, but created a simple rhythm against the brick of the patio. Xander and Alec joined in next, strumming a familiar melody. They worked through a few verses before Oliver finally added his voice to the mix.
“‘Sometimes the things left unsaid are deadly like bullets and knives,’” he sang. “‘Mine cut you deep, girl. We had no chance to survive.’” His voice was gruffer when he sang, but it sounded good with the stripped-down version of the song.
I listened to the performance as intently as I could, but mainly I was focused on Alec.
I loved how he held the guitar as if it were an extension of himself, and the way his fingers maneuvered over the strings. He made it look so easy, as if anyone could sit down and learn how to play in an afternoon. I loved that he closed his eyes and lost himself in the playing, like it was only him and the music. And God, I loved the way his lips moved as he mouthed the lyrics.
“Astrophil” came to an end, and the boys played some of their more upbeat stuff before covering a couple of hits by other artists.
Asha clapped when they finished their final song. “That was awesome, guys.”
With a flourish of his drumsticks, JJ bowed. “Our aim is to please. Glad you enjoyed.”
It felt like the perfect end to a long day, sitting by the fire and enjoying good music. But something must have been wrong, because Oliver’s eyes were narrowed in concentration, as if he were trying to dredge up a long-forgotten memory from the back of his mind.
“Babe, what’s up?” Stella asked him.
“Nothing. It’s just… I can’t remember the last time we played around like this.”
“Neither do I,” Alec said. “But we should more often.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Well, as much fun as this has been, I’m exhausted.” Xander yawned and rubbed an eye, nudging his glasses askew. “I think it’s time for me to call it a night. It was nice to meet you guys,” he said to me, Asha, and Boomer. “I’ll see everyone in the morning.”
After Xander, people slipped off to bed one by one. When Asha and Boomer vacated the love seat, Alec and I moved over so we could sit next to each other. Before long, only three of us were left.
“Hey, Felicity. I’ve got a question,” Oliver said. “You know that necklace you made for Asha? The one Stella liked?”
I lifted my head off Alec’s shoulder. “Yeah. What about it?”
“I’ve been struggling to come up with a gift idea for our anniversary, but the necklace is perfect. Could you maybe replicate it, but swap out the hearts for stars? I’ll pay for the supplies and your time.”
“Really?” I asked, sitting up straight. Oliver wanted to give me actual money to make jewelry? This had to be some kind of prank.
“Uh-huh. And maybe earrings to match?” He fiddled with the dog tag around his neck, sliding it back and forth on its chain. “Or would that be cheesy?”
“No, they’d be super cute. And if she doesn’t want to be matchy matchy, she can wear them separately. Do you know if she likes dangle, chandelier, or studs?” I was talking a mile a minute, caught up in the thrill of a fresh project. I still had to finish my mockingbird, but that could wait. The promise of a real commission had my whole body buzzing.
“Ah…studs?” Oliver said, and Alec nodded in agreement.
“When do you need them by?” I asked. “And how should I get them to you?” I doubted I’d ever see Oliver after this weekend, so I figured it would be best if we hammered out the logistics of our transaction now.
Oliver shrugged. “Not for a few months, so it’s no rush. I’m sure we’ll all get together before that, and if not, you can always give them to Alec for me.” His response was so casual, like it was a no-brainer that our paths would cross again. Because of Alec. Because he assumed I would be with Alec. The thought made my chest feel light.
“Just in case, here.” He took my phone. When he handed it back to me, there was a new name in my contact list—007. “Text me if you have any questions.”
“Perfect,” I said, unable to believe my luck.
“Thanks, Felicity. I really appreciate this,” he told me. “You should consider selling your stuff. Clueless boyfriends everywhere would be grateful.” Then Oliver stood and stretched both arms over his head. “Anyway, I’m beat. See you both tomorrow.”
And just like that, Alec and I were alone.
“Are you excited?” he asked, shifting on the seat to pull me closer.
“Considering I’m getting paid to do something I love, hell yeah,” I said, no longer able to contain my glee.
“This could be a regular thing, you know. Oliver’s right. Lots of people would buy your jewelry.” Alec gave a one-shoulder shrug in an attempt to sound offhanded, but I could tell he was alluding to our earlier conversation about college and my future. See? he was sa
ying. More confirmation that I’m right. Forget law school and the pantsuits. Go after your dreams!
But he was too polite for an I told you so, so I mumbled a quick “thanks” and made a point of switching up the conversation. “You were really good tonight,” I told him. “How long have you been playing?”
“King started teaching me when I turned eight.”
“Your dad plays?”
“Used to. He was amazing, but he’s not really into music anymore.”
A frown crossed my face. King Williams was the CEO of Mongo Records. How could he not be into music? “How come?”
Alec’s entire body tensed, and his lips remained clenched for so long that I was afraid my question had offended him. But finally he said, “My dad lost sight of why he started the label in the first place. All he cares about now is making money. Music has nothing to do with it.”
“Is that why your relationship with him is complicated?” I asked. “Because of music?” It was hard to imagine that the main source of joy in Alec’s life also doubled as the strain between him and his father.
“In part,” he said, his voice taking on a sudden edge.
The fire was dying down, and I watched as one of the logs broke apart, collapsing the pile. “And the other part?”
He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, disheveling his always-perfect bangs. “It’s not a big deal.”
Why don’t I believe you? The question must have been visible in my expression because Alec’s face softened and he smiled at me.
“Seriously, Felicity. Don’t worry about it. The only thing you should concentrate on right now is your sister. Do you know what you’re going to say to her?”
It was an obvious subject change, but one with a solid point. Tomorrow I was hopefully—no, finally—going to see Rose. The realization made my chest hurt, and I couldn’t tell if that pressure was the result of anxiety, elation, or pure terror. Probably a combination of all three.
“I’m not sure.” What did one say when they located a long-lost relative? I’ve missed you? What’s up? Where the hell have you been?
None of those seemed eloquent to me.
“Why don’t you sleep on it?” He stood before helping me up. “Come on. We should go to bed. You’ll have time to think about it in the car tomorrow.”
Chapter 16
The next morning, my phone buzzed violently on the bedside table, and I jolted awake. I’d forgotten to pull the curtains shut, and although it wasn’t California sunny, the natural light filtering in through the window made me blink and rub my eyes. I glanced at my watch. It wasn’t even seven.
Ugh. Why is anyone calling this early?
Alec and I had stayed up talking until two, and my body felt drained after such a late night. Still half-asleep, I stretched across the bed toward the nightstand. Right as my fingers brushed against my cell, the buzzing stopped.
Much better.
I burrowed back into the blankets. My alarm wasn’t set to go off for another two hours, and I didn’t want to waste another minute of my allotted sleep time. But before I could fade back into unconsciousness, the buzzing started again.
“Seriously?” I groaned, throwing off the covers and snatching my cell. What could be so important that someone needed to get ahold of me right now? I looked down at the caller ID and my heart sunk into my stomach.
It was my mom.
I’d expected a call from her today, but not this early. She hadn’t planned to be home until late. When Asha, Boomer, and Alec convinced me to push on to Seattle, I knew I’d have to tell her I’d left LA. But I’d been hoping to put that off until Monday. My plan had been to say I was sleeping at Asha’s tonight, then call her tomorrow after I found Rose. Looked like I’d have to fess up now.
I sucked in a small breath and pressed the talk button. “Mom, hi.”
“Hey, baby!” She was unusually upbeat, which I took as a positive sign. Maybe she wouldn’t get too upset about my road trip if she was in a good mood. “Your room’s empty. Are you at Asha’s? I know I wasn’t supposed to get back from Dave’s until after dinner, but we have some exciting news that I couldn’t wait to share.”
My shoulders slumped. “So you’re at home?”
“Yup. Dave’s making breakfast for us. Why don’t you have Mr. Van de Berg drive you home, and I’ll tell you all about it over bacon and pancakes.”
“I’m not at Asha’s,” I told her.
“Are you working a shift at the diner?” she asked. Then, “Do you want the Italian roast or the French?”
I frowned, unsure why the subject had suddenly changed to coffee, but then I realized she was talking to Dave and not me. I sighed and switched the phone to my other ear. It was time to get this over with, to face the truth whether I was ready to hear it or not. “I found the letters, Mom.”
There was a long pause on her end. My pulse picked up, and I pressed my hand to my heart as if it could slow the pounding.
“Honey, what are you talking about?” Mom said at last.
The knot in my chest unraveled a bit, her answer giving me hope that she was as clueless as I had been, that there was no way she could lie about something this big.
“The letters Rose wrote to me?” I was trying to sound calm, but my voice crept up an octave. I could no longer ignore the dread I’d been feeling since the discovery. “They were hidden under your bed.”
More silence. Finally, “What were you doing in my bedroom?”
There was no denial in her response. “So you knew?” I whispered. “You knew she was writing to me?”
My mom heaved a sigh. “You don’t understand, Felicity. It’s more complicated than you think.”
I tried to wrap my mind around what she was saying, wondering if I’d misheard her even though I knew I hadn’t. “How could you do this?” I exclaimed. My dread was quickly heating to sizzling anger.
“Felicity, baby,” she said, and I could picture her leaning against the kitchen counter, dragging her fingers through her bangs.
“Don’t!” I snapped. “You pretended you didn’t know where Rose was for four years. You let me think that she didn’t want anything to do with us. With me.”
“But I didn’t always know where she was and—”
“I don’t care,” I countered, not giving her a chance to explain. “You knew she was okay, that she was alive, and you didn’t tell me!”
“You’re right,” she said. “I kept this from you because I was trying to protect you. I know you’re upset right now, but let’s not do this over the phone. Come home, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Too flustered to sit still any longer, I leaped out of bed, hardly blanching when my bare feet hit the cold wooden floor. In fact, I welcomed the cold—it helped cool the flush spreading through my body. If she thought she could gain ground with me by admitting the truth, she was so wrong.
“I’m not coming home, Mom,” I said, fuming. “Not until I talk to Rose.”
“Felicity.” From the tightness in her voice it sounded as if she was on the verge of crying. “Where are you?”
I glanced out the window at the backyard. Now that it was daylight, the long stretch of forest wasn’t as foreboding as it had been last night.
“You know that boy you didn’t want me to see? The musician who drove me home from the masquerade?” I knew what I was going to say would upset her, but I didn’t care. I wanted my mom to hurt, to feel the same anger I was feeling, so I flung my words at her. “I’m with him. He’s helping me find Rose.” Not waiting for a response, I punched the end button and chucked my phone on the bed. Three seconds later, it started buzzing, but I ignored the call.
My whole body trembled.
Ever since Rose ran away, I’d felt protective of my mom because I was all she had left. Everyone else had deserted her. I thought our mother-daughter b
ond had been strengthened by adversity. It was the two of us taking on the world. That she could deceive me like this seemed inconceivable.
Maybe, deep down, I knew my mom had been lying to me when I found the letters. And maybe I’d overlooked that deception because acknowledging she’d kept me from my sister meant that all the choices I’d made since Rose ran away—choices about school and my future, choices that made me who I was today—were based on a devastating lie. All of a sudden, I felt an overwhelming sense that I’d lost a part of myself, like a bunch of little pieces that defined me were slipping away.
Yesterday morning, after I found Asha and Boomer together, I mistook my feelings of surprise and confusion for betrayal. At the time, I didn’t have a real understanding of the emotion.
Now I did.
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t stop the silent sobs that racked my body.
This was what real betrayal felt like.
Asha’s best-friend telepathy must have kicked in, because there was a knock at the door and she poked her head inside. “Hey, Fel. You up?” She glanced at the bed first, and then gasped when she spotted me crying by the window. “Oh hell, what’s wrong? Something totally happened, didn’t it?” she asked as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
Unable to answer, I merely nodded my head.
“What is it?” she demanded. “Did that boy hurt you? Because you know Boomer and I will kick his ass if he did.” Her gaze flickered over me, from my face to my feet and back up again, as if she was scanning for signs of bodily harm.
“What are you talking—” I stopped short. By boy, she meant Alec. “No, of course not! How could you think something like that about him?”
Asha winced. “I’m sorry. You’re right. He’s a total sweetheart, isn’t he? It’s just… The last time I saw you, you were with him, and now you’re crying, so I’m freaking out and jumping to conclusions,” she blurted out, waving her hands about in a manic fashion. “Besides, I doubt I’d be able to follow through with a promise like that. Not that I wouldn’t want to defend you or anything. I don’t think I could actually kick someone’s ass and—”