THE TROUBLE WITH PAPER PLANES(73)

She smiled, holding my face in her hands. She kissed my forehead, my nose and both cheeks. Then she kissed my lips and the world around us faded into oblivion.

If heaven was a place, I was pretty sure I was in it.





I DON’T REMEMBER MUCH about the trip home. I remember holding her hand while I drove, and I remember seeing the sunset as we crested the hill on the way back into town. I found myself noticing that kind of thing more and more lately. For so long, I’d had my eyes closed because I was scared of seeing things as they really were. But lately, I’d found courage I didn’t know I had and I was under no illusion. It was because of Maia. She was opening up my world – showing me what my life could be like with her in it.


Later, back home and curled up on the couch with Maia in my arms, I felt like we were starring in some kind of dystopian movie. Alone on the planet, just the two of us, left to our own devices. Life seemed simpler, easier. The sun had gone down, the TV was off, and the only light in the house came from the table lamp in the corner.

“Vinnie texted me earlier,” I mumbled, playing with her fingers, entangled with mine on top of my chest. “He checked the forecast. He wants to go surfing tomorrow morning. Do you want to come?”

She moved slightly, getting more comfortable, but she didn’t speak. I frowned down at her, moving my head to see her better.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “You guys go. I still need to get some practice in. I’ll only hold you back.”

“No you won’t.”

“Yeah, I will,” she gave a little laugh, her eyes shining in the lamp-light.

I think I knew what she was getting at. “Are you worried you’re gonna look stupid?”

She laughed again, burying her face in my shoulder so I couldn’t see it. Then she nodded.

“Come on,” I smiled, reaching around to tickle her ribs. “Everyone’s gotta start somewhere. You can’t expect to be as awesome as me on your first time out.”

She squealed, squirming in my arms as I continued to tickle her. She was extremely ticklish. I added that to the short list of things I knew about her. Eventually, I gave her a reprieve and she stopped wriggling with a sigh.

“Is it because you’re scared of what might happen if you get dumped again?” I asked carefully, laying my palm flat against hers and comparing the size of our hands.

She sighed. “Yeah. That’s part of it, too.”

“Have you had any more visions, or hallucinations or whatever?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” That could mean anything at this point, but I was going to take it as a positive. “I’d like to take the credit for that.”

“Yeah, I bet you would.” She dug her fingers into my ribs, getting her own back as I squirmed away from them with an unmanly yelp.

“If it’s good for the goose…” she giggled, but she stopped and we settled into each other again.

“Do you want to see my scar?” she asked, out of the blue.

I smiled. “You make it sound so sexy when you say it like that.”

I thought she’d laugh, but she didn’t. I looked down at her, meeting her gaze. She was serious, and she was anxious.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, the smile vanishing. “I didn’t mean to make a joke out of it. Of course I want to see it.”

We both sat up. She took her ponytail down and let her hair fall around her shoulders, climbing off the couch to kneel on the floor.

“I’ve never showed anyone before.”

I laid my hand on her shoulder and she held my gaze. She felt so small, so fragile. I couldn’t imagine what she’d been through, the kind of heartache she’d suffered and continued to suffer. She was much stronger in spirit than she was in body, that much was obvious.

“Sometimes, I look in the mirror, and I see her,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to stare at the elastic band that had held her hair up.

“What do you mean?”

She sighed heavily, looking back at me again. “When I was in hospital, I used to look in the mirror and wonder who the hell this face staring back at me was. I thought I was going crazy. She was a complete stranger to me. I named her, because I didn’t know who she was. I called her Jane, as in Jane Doe. Unknown, unclaimed. That’s how I felt.”

My heart felt like it was too heavy for my chest, like it might fall out of my body and smash into a million pieces on the floor. Never had I felt such a strong sense of wanting to fix something, to save someone.