Paper Airplanes (19 page)

She slid off my lap then and went to put the movie in, leaving me feeling empty and hollow.
I knew I was already in too deep if I was feeling that way. But I was like an addict. I just wanted more of her even though I knew I should proceed with caution.

I expected that when she returned to the couch she’d go back to her end, but instead, she turned off the lights and came
to sit right next to me and tucked her body against my side. Her arm wrapped around my middle, her fingers reaching under my t-shirt to touch the partially numb skin where the bullet had gone into my body. It was puckered and hollow looking, and a warm feeling spread throughout my abdomen as her fingers danced over it before settling in place, as if she was keeping the wound that had healed long ago closed.

Instead of saying anything, I put my arm around her and pulled her close. The movie started, and we watched in silence, wrapped up in each other, quietly seeking the comfort neither of us realized we’d needed until that night.

Halfway through the movie, I felt my eyes starting to drift closed. I looked down to see that Cassie was already asleep, so instead of getting up and going home, because I knew it would disturb her, I let sleep wash over me and take me away from reality. In dreams, it was just Cassie and me, and neither of us had to go through anything close to what we’d had to endure six months earlier. In my dreams, it was just us.

* * *

I wasn’t sure what time it was when a shrill ringing woke me up out of a dead sleep. I was at a weird angle, my neck stiff from sleeping in a partially upright position. I looked down to see Cassie sleeping with her head on my lap, looking so peaceful and content. I had the very real urge to kiss her. But as my phone started to ring again, she opened her eyes and looked up at me, disoriented and probably unsure of why she was using my lap as a pillow, so I looked away before I did something I’d regret.

I realized I
needed to answer my phone, so I swept my finger across the screen right before the call went to voicemail. It was Scott, and he wasn’t happy with me.

“Where are you, man?” he asked. “It’s after one. You were supposed to pick me up.”

Shit.

“
Sorry. I fell asleep,” I said, glancing down at Cassie, her blond curls splayed over my lap where she’d pulled them down from the messy bun, her sleepy brown eyes looking up at me, making me want to kiss her and never stop.

I hated to leave her, but I didn’t have a choice.
Scott was bitching in my ear about how I was supposed to get him, and it was late, and he was tired, blah, blah, blah. I was way too exhausted to be listening to one of his excited rants. When he got going, it took a lot to stop him. Thankfully I’d learned how to get through it long ago.

“I’ll be right there
,” I said, cutting him off.

“Hurry,”
he said, fairly annoyed for someone who was relying on someone else for a ride.

“I’m on my way,”
I said, disconnecting the call before he could say anything else.

“You have to leave?” Cassie questioned, her voice sleep-soaked and so incredibly sexy.

In that minute I seriously considered calling a cab for Scott. But I knew it was best if I left for a lot of reasons, so instead I just nodded. “Yeah, I have to go pick Scott up from work.”

She nodded and closed her eyes again.

“You should go to bed,” I urged her, and she nodded.

She didn’t move for a few seconds, but then she sighed and rolled off of me. She sat up and ran her
fingers through her hair.

I stood up and faced her, so she got to her feet, looking like she might fall over.
As she teetered, I put my hands on her waist to steady her, and she looked up at me. Then before I could stop her, she wrapped her arms around my neck and held me for a few seconds. Against my better judgment, I responded by pulling her against me, relishing the feel of her warmth and the solidness of her body in my arms.

“Thank you,” she said, and I wasn’t sure what that thank you encompassed. It could have been for a lot of things, but
I figured it didn’t really matter.

“You’re welcome,” I told her.

She pulled back and looked at me. Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine for just a few seconds, but it was enough to let me know that I definitely wanted more. I didn’t want to be platonic with her. Of course, I knew I should wait to give her time to get over her ex. It made the most sense, but I knew if she kissed me again, my good sense was libel to fly out the window, so I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resist her even if I wanted to.

She took my hand in hers as she led me from the room. We reached the top of the landing, and I told her I’d go the rest of the way alone. I wanted her to go to bed since she was still only half awake.
And I was also afraid she’d try to kiss me again. I knew distance was the best thing for us after the emotional rollercoaster of a night we’d had. In the light of a new day, things could be completely different.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” she told me
.

“Goodnight,” I said hugging her once more. Her head rested on my chest as I held her against me, never wanting to let her go.

She was going to ruin me. I knew she was. I was so powerless to resist her. It was just a matter of time before she wore me down.

“Goodnight, Jared,” she said, my name sounding so sweet on her lips.

The truth was
I wanted to hear her say it again and again.

Chapter Fourteen

Cassie

“Cassie?” my psychology teach
er, who insisted we call her Andrea since she was only a few years older than most of us, said as I stood to leave the room after class. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” I said as lighthearted as I could as I waited for the other students to file out of the room.

She’d never kept me after class before, and I wondered what I’d done wrong. I had a feeling she wanted to talk about my paper. It was the second of five research papers we had to write throughout the semester, and I’d turned it in two days earlier. In truth I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about the topic. I’d taken a risk in choosing it and not asking first if it was okay.

“It’s about your paper.”

I knew it.

I leaned against my desk, and Andrea came over and leaned against the desk in front of mine, facing me.

“Tell me why you chose the topic you did,” she said.

I swallowed. “I thought it was interesting,” I said, aiming for brevity.

I’d written my paper on killers that had gone on shooting sprees like the one at Coleman, and I’d focused most of my research on past school shootings like Columbine and Virginia Tech. We’d been tasked with writing about a psychological topic that we wanted to know more about, and I couldn’t think of anything else but that. I hadn’t told anyone I was writing it, not even Marley or Jared.

Andrea
nodded. “Why else did you choose it, though?” she asked, looking at me pensively.

I sighed. “You’re asking questions you already know the answer to, aren’t you?”

It was a classic psychological strategy. We’d studied it, in fact.

“I am,” she said, smiling warmly at me. “I have to tell you I was surprised that you’d be so comfortable writing about something you can relate to so personally. Most victims aren’t that at ease, especially in the first year after tragedy strikes.”

“I don’t have any memories of that day,” I told her after a few seconds of silence, debating whether I wanted to unleash my own psychosis on someone who was in college getting her PhD to become a psychologist. “I guess I feel sort of disconnected from it, but since I woke up in the hospital, I’ve been fixated on why he did it. I don’t understand how someone can have so much hatred in their heart that they kill innocent people. I lost two friends that day, and three of my other friends are emotionally scarred because of what happened that day. I just wanted to know why.”

“You realize you might never k
now the answer to that question, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know, but writing the paper, researching everything for it, it helped
a little bit, you know?”

She nodded. “Yes, I actually do know. I was raped when I was eighteen and a freshman in college. For a long time, I just wanted to know why. It was partially the reason why I decided to study psychology in the end, and one of the first papers I published when I started my PhD was on how the rape had ch
anged who I was. I’d held off writing about it for years, because I didn’t want to relive it, but in truth, it actually made me feel more whole again after I did it.”

Holy crap.

What the hell was I supposed to say to that? She’d just told me she was raped. I didn’t think our situations were aligned at all.

“Why are you telling me all of this? Was there a problem with my paper?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Not at all. I thought it was thoroughly researched and well written. I was actually hoping that I could interview you. I’m in the process of working on my thesis, and ironically enough my topic is on killers that go on shooting sprees. Your paper hit close to home since I’ve been researching the same things as you did for close to two years. I’ve also interviewed students who survived shootings, families of the victims, families of the gunmen, and when I’ve been able to, the gunmen themselves. I haven’t interviewed anyone from Coleman though, since it’s just too soon after what happened, but I was hoping I might be able to interview you.”

Okay, that was not what I’d expected.

“What would you want to know?”

I wasn’t
sure how I could be of much value to her since I had no recollection of that night.

“
If you were to agree, there are several questions I would ask you. Normally I’d want to find out about your impressions of the gunman, what he said, what he did, that sort of thing, but I’m also curious about how what happened affected you in the long run. I’m exploring the topic from a few angles.”

I watched her watching me for almost a minute, not sure what to say.
She didn’t say anything either, almost as if she knew I needed to process what she was asking.

“I don’t know if that’s something I want to do,” I finally told her honestly.

She nodded. “I understand. I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask. It’s not every day that I have a survivor of one of these shootings in my classroom. I hope you understand that I had to ask.”

I nodded. “Sure, I understand. And sorry I wasn’t able to help.”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Really,” she said, smiling warmly at me. “It’s fine. I have a lot of interviews and other corresponding research already.”

“
That’s good,” I said as I picked up my backpack. “Am I okay to go?”

She nodded. “Sure. Have a great day.”

“Thanks, you too.”

I left the classroom feeling slightly disjointed. That had been an odd conversation, but I wasn’t upset. It was just strange.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about it, to be honest.

* * *

“Hey!” Scott said, coming up behind me as I was keying in an order at the computer. I jumped a mile, which made him laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I turned around to see him grinning at me, the bandana he wore when he worked at the grill wrapped around his head. It was sweat-soaked after a day spent in the kitchen with very few breaks. Twice he’d come out to the servers’ station to get a Coke, but other than that he’d been working like crazy since Samir had called out.

But Scott never complained. He just took it all in stride, telling me he wasn’t going to miss a beat. The customers would still have the best burgers in town with him behind the grill. Then he’d grinned.

I’d decided he was like sunshine, a bright ray in the darkness. I couldn’t help smiling when I was around him. It was too bad that I didn’t like him, because he’d probably be great for me. I needed sunshine.

But I was completely hung up on Jared who’d been a little distant since the night he’d come over to watch a movie with me the week before. Things had gotten deep and personal, and they might have even gotten a little awkward, but I’d loved falling asleep tucked against him. He was warm and solid and smelled incredible. And with his arm around me, I felt safe for the first time in months.

I wasn’t sure what was going on between us. He’d said he liked me and that he just needed to talk to Scott, clear the air and let him know how we felt about each other before he’d pursue something with me. And I kept waiting for that to happen, but I didn’t think it had. I wasn’t sure what Jared was waiting for.

I hoped he hadn’t changed his mind. I didn’t think he had, because even if he was distant to a point, I still caught him looking at me from across the restaurant or smiling at me in chemistry. There was definitely a connection between us, and my desire to be more than friends had only grown in the week since I’d kissed him.

It had just been a brief, chaste kiss that could have been considered friendly, but we both knew it wasn’t. And ever since
then I’d just wanted to kiss him again. I’d watch him talking to a group of customers, his lips moving as he talked to them about the specials and the soup of the day. I’d soak in his serious look as he listened to their orders, his hands clasped behind his back as he memorized every detail. Then I’d look away as he headed back to the servers’ station to key in the order. He’d act like he didn’t notice me, but then I’d be refilling drinks and he’d come and stand so close to me that we were practically touching. I’d bump him in the hip, and he’d smile. But he never flirted back. He was always friendly, but he’d cut off any of the goofy, playful banter we’d started to have, that I was pretty sure he reserved only for me.

He didn’t do it with any of the other servers. Not like Scott who teased and joked with everyone. No, Jared reserved his shy smiles and under the breath comments for me. Or at least he used to.
I hadn’t seen or heard one in a week.

I hadn’t
actually seen him since our lab the day before, since he’d taken time off to drive up to Ann Arbor to pick Austin up from the week long football camp he’d been at and to see him play in an exhibition game. According to Scott he was supposed to be back later that night, and I was considering inviting him to come over to go swimming. It was the Fourth of July, and you could see the fireworks from our backyard really well. The best part was, my parents were in Chicago until Sunday night, so we’d have the house to ourselves.

“You doing anything tonight?” Scott asked me as he filled a to-go cup with Coke and chugged half of it down.

“Not much,” I told him, because I didn’t want to hurt him.

I wanted Jared to talk to him alr
eady. It was awkward now when Scott flirted with me, because I felt like a bitch for letting him think he had a chance.

“That’s cool. D
o you want to come to the light show I’m putting on?”

“You’re doing a show tonight?”

He took another long drink of his soda. “Yeah, I always do one on the Fourth of July. Wishburn always hires our company to do their fireworks, but this year, they asked me to do a light show as well. It’ll be pretty awesome. I’ve got it all set to music and everything. Then we’ll light off the fireworks. You should totally come.”

He was grinning widely at me, so it was really hard to say no. But if I went with him, it might seem like a date.

“What time are you leaving?” I asked, figuring I could buy time, but I could also give him the excuse that I couldn’t be ready by the time he needed to leave. I’d tell him I needed to shower, which was plausible.

“I need to be there by seven. Hopefully Jared will be back by then
. I don’t want to be late.”

My ears sure perked up at that. “Oh, Jared’s going?”

“Yeah, he comes every year. He used to help me, but now he won’t come near me when I’m lighting off fireworks.”

“Why not?”

He grinned. “You know how he had long hair all throughout high school, right?”

I nodded.
“Yeah.”

I
remembered Jared’s wavy brown locks that fell past his shoulders. He’d parted his hair in the middle and let it hang around his face. I could see him so clearly sitting next to me in English now, wearing a worn concert t-shirt, baggy black pants, his dirty Vans peeking out from beneath. His shoulders always seemed to be slumped, and he slouched in his seat, probably so no one would notice him.

I wish
ed I would have noticed him. Had I looked closer I would have seen how beautiful he was back then. His features, like they were now, had always been on the delicate side, but he had intensely full pink lips and a straight, strong nose. I just wished I wouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss him. Maybe if I’d just talked to him, we could have at least been friends back then.

“Well, about a year and a half ago,
” Scott said, launching into his story, “I was messing around with some homemade bottle rockets, and one sort of got out of control, and I sort of set his hair on fire.”

My eyes got wide. “You set h
is hair on fire?!”

Scott had the decency to look sheepish. “Yeah, it was pretty crazy. It lit up like a candle
, and he had to jump in the pool to get it to go out, which was even crazier since it was October and the water was freezing. Thankfully it didn’t burn his scalp or anything, but he had to cut most of his hair off after that. He was so pissed at me, and he made me shave my head, which by the way did not look good.”

I laughed, imagining what that conversation must have looked like. I could see Jared’s usually even-tempered demeanor going haywire when he realized
that Scott had torched his hair. I could picture him silently handing Scott a razor and telling him to shave his head. Scott probably whined and protested, but he eventually did it, shaving off his long blond locks.

“I’m kind of glad you did that,” I said through my laughter.
They both looked better with short hair.

Scott grinned. “I know. And I think he was glad too. After he cut his hair, he got hit on all the time. The girls saw how cute he was once h
e stopped hiding.”

My face scrunched up when he said that
, and I tried not to laugh.

“What?” he questioned. “I can
say that. It doesn’t make me gay. It’s just the truth. I was going to grow mine out again, but after I saw how much the girls like Jared, I figured I’d keep it short. Somehow it didn’t have the same effect for me.”