Page 10 of Paper Hearts

“We come here every summer,” she tells me, sipping on her soda. “What’s your name?” Arya’s attention shifts to a group of boys fighting over the Jet Skis and I notice the boy in the black shorts again.

“Hadleigh.”

“How old are you?” she asks next.

“Thirteen.”

“Oh… me too. When’s your birthday?”

“March seventeenth.” I watch the boy in the black shorts push another boy into the water, yelling something at him before all of them break out in laughter.

“Mine’s February seventeenth. I’m older than you.”

“Only by a month,” I point out.

Arya shrugs, but adds, “I’m still older.”

And probably cooler than me. Definitely not someone I would hang out with back home. She’s the type of girl who wouldn’t be caught dead around someone like me at school.

“Arya,” the boy in the water yells, coming closer to the dock. “Mom’s looking for you. She said to tell you to come inside.”

Arya scowls at him. “How do you know? You’ve been out there all day?”

The boy takes his phone, which he has wrapped in a waterproof case, from his pocket, mocking her with a patronizing smirk. “She called, dumbass.”

Looking up at him, I notice his eyes first. They’re the same as Arya’s, bright blue framed by thick lashes. Throwing his leg over the side of the Jet Ski, he jumps off and makes his way to the dock. His friends follow suit, all three of them barreling onto the dock, sending it rocking.

Standing in front of me, he’s taller than I expect. His smile is lopsided and cute. The other two boys walk ahead, never looking back, roughhousing with one another, gray towels wrapped around their shoulders. One of them pushes the other, and a shoving match breaks out between them. The taller one with blond hair seems to have the upper hand and easily takes the other to the ground in the tall grass.

While his attention is on them, I stare at his body. I’ve seen boys without shirts on before, but this one, he’s what my sisters would say was sexy. I can tell he works out with the definition of muscles. I wonder how old he is. Probably older than me.

The boy returns and his eyes find mine. “Did you know your popsicle is in the water?”

I didn’t realize I dropped it, but I guess I did.

“She knows it’s in there.” Arya shoves him, but he catches himself on the metal bars of the diving board before falling. “Don’t talk to her, Ender. She doesn’t like you.”

“Everybody likes me,” he tells her, chuckling as he pulls on the strings of her bathing suit. Arya swats his hand away, but he pulls at the back and snaps it against her skin. “Nice sunburn, A.” He pokes at her red shoulders, making her squirm until she nearly loses her footing on the dock.

“Ender, you fuckface!” she screams, slamming her balled-up fists into his chest.

He laughs but doesn’t budge. The two of them wrestle back and forth, playing and teasing.

I watch curiously. I’ve never seen the interaction between a sister and a brother. I’ve only seen the interactions between sisters, and that’s a lot of whining, screaming, and drama.

When they’re done messing around, Ender comes back to where I am at the end of the dock putting my sandals on, one strap at a time. “That’s Ender,” Arya says, glaring at the boy. “And save yourself the trouble. He’s a jerk. Don’t bother getting to know him.”

Ender? That’s a unique name I’ve never heard before.

He shoves her sunburnt shoulder again. “Don’t lie.”

Arya rolls her eyes. “Whatever.” Walking away, Arya kicks one of the boys who’s laying on the well-maintained grass that surrounds the deck. “Give me back my hair tie, butt-face.”

Fuckface. Butt-face. She has nicknames for all of them.

And now I’m alone with the boy. My heart pumps so hard I think it’s going to come out of my chest, and my cheeks are the same color as Arya’s shoulders.

He smirks. “Did you just get here today?” he asks, shaking out his towel and then bundling it up to carry with one hand. “I’ve never seen you before.” There’s a rasp to his voice I haven’t heard before in a boy.

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