On Paper Wings: My Paper Heart

By Magan Vernon

Taking a leap of faith is one thing, but learning to get up when you fall is a whole other story. 



I made the decision to stay in tiny Elsbury, Louisiana instead of returning home to Chicago.

​​​​​​I thought maybe my southern boyfriend was finally done with his fear of commitment.

Of course, then the ghosts of his girlfriend's past had to start coming out of the picture, just in time for me to sponsor my little cousin for cotillion.

Now I have to work with my boyfriend's ex-girlfriends at school and after school. As if things couldn't get any worse.

I guess if I could survive last summer, I can survive anything...I hope.



Books in this series:

My Paper Heart

On Paper Wings

A Paper Trail

These Paper Walls

• Language: English
• Publisher: Magan Vernon
• Release date: Mar 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215927144

Magan Vernon

Magan Vernon has been living off of reader tears since she wrote her first short story in 2004. She now spends her time killing off fictional characters, pretending to plot while she really just watches Netflix, and she tries to do this all while her two young children run amuck around her Texas ranch.

Book preview

Prologue

I stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Not that Libby’s parents didn’t have the most comfortable guest bed I’d ever slept in. The thing was like a giant marshmallow and probably costs as much as my truck.

No, there was more to it than that. I flew all the way out to be with Libby, faced my fears, and she took me back without a problem. That was before her parents saw me. When we walked into her giant McMansion of a house at two in the morning, and she had obvious sex hair, they looked at me like I was the lowest form of life on the planet. Which is what I felt like.

I seriously screwed up by not getting on the plane with her that day and now I knew I would be making it up to her every day. That is, if her mom would let her go back to Louisiana with me. I never thought I was good enough for Julie, but the moment I met Libby I didn’t think I could be without her. The way her hair falls down her back, and the sexy smile she gives me when I know she wants something. I didn’t care that she failed out of college. Hell, it wouldn’t bother me if she never went back.

I groaned thinking of the way she was laying her head on my chest only a few hours before, her tongue tracing over the lines of my tattoo. I didn’t think I could make it one more day without holding her. I had hoped that bringing the community college brochures would at least get her thinking about coming back to me, and, maybe then, her lawyer mom would be okay with it as well.

If she didn’t, well then, I we would just have to figure something else out.

I heard footsteps  outside the room and figured it was just Libby’s dad making his rounds again. I swear I could hear him every five minutes checking in to make sure we weren’t going at it.

Slowly the door creaked open, and, even in the dim lights from the curtains I could see her blonde hair flowing over her shoulders.

Are you awake? Libby whispered.

I sat up, propping my back against the leather headboard. Yeah.

She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her as quietly as a church mouse before she crept over to the bed and sat down in front of me. She was wearing just a low cut tank top and some really short shorts. I couldn’t help my eyes from trailing down her long legs. She could be my tanned Juliet any day.

I couldn’t sleep, so I talked to my mom. She traced the patterns of the quilt.

And? I raised an eyebrow, interested in what she had to say.

Libby let out a big puff of air. I told her about community college, moving back to Louisiana and all that stuff we’ve talked about.

And? I said with more agitation than necessary. Libby had a way of giving way too much detail instead of just getting to the point. It was cute, sometimes, but times in which I was at the edge of my seat waiting for an answer, it wasn’t.

And she wasn’t exactly convinced it was the best plan of action, at first. Then, you know, I told her that maybe it would be better if I didn’t go back to Illinois State, have all those distractions again, and we could try out this community college.

So, does that mean, what I think it means?

She looked up at me, her brown eyes sparkling in a way I didn’t know was possible. That sparkle spread down to her lips, as her sexy smile crossed them. She said we could try it for at least a year, and as long as I kept my grades up I could finish my Associates.

I slapped my leg on top of the comforter and grinned. That’s great, baby!

She squealed and jumped into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck, while I wrapped my arms around her waist.

I get my girl back, hot damn, you don’t know how worried I’ve been.

She nuzzled her nose against mine, and my boxers tightened when she pressed her chest against mine. No matter what, I was going to find a way to be with you. I love you Blaine Crabtree, and this time there’s going to be no more running from it. You’re stuck with me.

I placed my hands on her back, right where her shirt didn’t meet her shorts. I won’t mind holding you to that one.

I thought she was going to kiss me, but instead she just smirked and slid off the bed.

Something I said? You know I love you, baby. You don’t need to go.

She leaned over and placed a very chaste kiss on my cheek. Yes I do. You should get some sleep, because tomorrow we’re taking my car back to Louisiana.

With that, she left me with a very tight pair of boxers, staring open mouthed, as she crept back out of the room.

I sighed, falling back on to the pillow. My worries should have been over. I was going to go back home, away from the city and my girl would be by my side. But I still wondered, would I be enough? Would she just come back to Chicago after her year was up?

Libby’s and my relationship had been anything but smooth. We were never short of our arguments, but we always made up. When I was younger, my meemaw used to try and talk to me about relationships. Even then, I thought she was just a crazy old lady, but she would tell me something that I never understood, until now.

She used to sit on her rocker, drink her sugary sweet tea, then she would look at me and say, Blaine, you can’t learn to fly on paper wings. They’re flimsy, and you’ll fall before you even get off the ground.

Libby’s and my relationship may have started out rocky, and I’ve had plenty of fuck ups, but I was determined that together we could learn to fly on paper wings.

Chapter 1

One Month Later

If Aunt Dee took one more picture of Britt and me, I swore I was going to go blind.

Grandma! Can we go? Britt whined.

Just one more, I promise. Aunt Dee’s camera flashed a mile a minute. The thing was so big it covered her entire face, and she looked like a machine wearing a bright red wig. Okay, now I’m done.

Britt and I both breathed out a sigh of relief, and I could finally stop my perma-smile. It was almost as bad as the one I had on for sorority recruitment.

Thank God, Britt muttered.

Now are you sure you can find the school alright, Libby? Aunt Dee blinked her beady eyes behind her coke bottle glasses.

I nodded, pushing a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. I have a GPS in my car. I’ll be fine.

Oh...right... She stared off at my car parked in the driveway.

As soon as Britt saw Blaine and me pull up in it, I thought she was going to have a heart attack. She kept talking about how excited she was to have her cousin drop her off in the nicest car she’d ever seen. Obviously Britt had never gone to a school in the Chicago suburbs. There, my beamer was one of the more modest cars in the parking lot.

We’ll be fine, grandma, don’t worry! Britt threw her big arms around Aunt Dee’s tiny frame embracing her in a hug.

I tried to get Britt to wear something a little nicer for her first day as a sophomore, but she stuck to the same old LSU shirt and shorts that she had lived in all summer. I still wished I could have found them to burn when I took her back-to-school shopping.

After Britt let go of Aunt Dee, she came over to me holding her arms open. Have a good first day at school, and let me know if you need anything. Aunt Dee hugged me so tight I thought she might break. I had almost a full foot on her, so her head always came right below my chest and it felt awkward, but I let her anyway. There was something comforting about her, and I’d always be grateful to have her around.

I will Aunt Dee, and I’ll be by the shop once classes are done.

Take your time! She waved as Britt followed me to my car.

***

After dropping Britt off at the high school, I continued down Parrish road to St. Joseph Community College. Illinois State was a much bigger campus that was full of trees and buildings that looked like English castles. St. Joseph had neither of those things.

I followed a gravel road, until the skinny pine trees widened, and a few scattered, white, one story -buildings came into view. This couldn’t be the college. My GPS had to be wrong. Then, I saw the wooden sign in front of one of the buildings.

St. Joseph Community College

Established 1983

I guess this was it.

There were a few small parking lots, so I parked in one closest to the biggest of the buildings figuring that had to be the main student union. All the cars around me were rusted out, or muddy pickup trucks, and I was afraid someone would bash my car and parked near the very back. Not that I was a big car person, but when you drive a BMW convertible, it somehow makes you a target for door dings.

As I got out of the car, the Louisiana heat hit me like a brick wall. My sunglasses instantly fogged up, and I could feel the perspiration gathering up and down my arms and legs. The freaking Louisiana heat could melt paper it was so bad. But if I wanted to stay in the South, I’d have to learn to live with it. I adjusted my purse higher on my shoulder and walked to the building with a sign in front of it that read ‘Classroom Building One.’

I pulled my schedule out of my purse and looked to make sure that’s where my first class was. It looked like all of my classes where in that building. Not like I had much of a choice either way. If I got the first building wrong, there weren’t that many others.

A few other students were walking in at the same time as me, but none of them really paid attention to me. There were at least fifteen thousand kids at Illinois State University, and my high school had at least one thousand kids in each grade, but from the size of the buildings at St. Joseph, it looked like the population was a lot smaller.

All the walls were white stucco with white linoleum floors, and cheesy fluorescent lights that made everyone’s skin a slight tinge of yellow. At least I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I had enough of that to last for a lifetime.

There was one long hallway that had smaller ones branching off of it. My first class was biology which was one that I had failed at my last college. My new advisor suggested that I retake two of the classes I failed and one new one. So I signed up to retake Biology and Algebra, then, to try an easier class to help my GPA. I signed up for Art History. I didn’t think it could be too hard, but then again, I did fail out of my freshman year of college, so nothing really was that easy to me.

At Illinois State, my biology class was in a big lecture hall with over three hundred other students and looked more like a theatre than a classroom. St. Joseph’s class was almost the exact opposite. The room was tiny, probably as big as a high school biology classroom. There were three rows of island style tables with sinks in the middle. On one wall, there was a large counter with different beakers and other lab equipment, and on the other was a desk with a small screen behind it. Was I back in high school?

I figure I needed to pay as much attention as I could in class to pass it, so I took one of the very first tables and plopped down on the metal stool behind it. Rifling through my purse, I found my phone. Smiling back at me was a picture of Blaine and me as the background. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t here just for him. This was my choice to see if I could actually succeed in my class work. If I struggled in a big school, maybe community college was what I needed.

I unlocked my phone and saw that I had a missed text message from him. I usually turned my phone on silent when I drove, so I wasn’t tempted to text. Last time I texted and drove, I ended up rear ending some guy in an Audi in downtown Chicago. After that I made sure never to text and drive.

Hey baby. Hope your first day is awesome.

I smiled while reading his words. Blaine could always make me smile. But my smile quickly faded when a loud, southern accent practically growled next to me.

What did I do?

I put my phone down and looked up to see a girl with chin length blonde hair, big blue eyes, and shorts so short they could have been underwear.

Um, can I help you? I asked, trying to keep the snark out of my voice. I wasn’t trying to be hostile, but I was hoping she wasn’t looking to fight me for my seat or something.

Yeah, she said in a high pitched southern accent. Where’d you get those boots? Her hands were on her tiny hips, and she had her chin down toward her rather large chest that was practically popping out of her white t-shirt.

I looked down at my boots, even though I was very aware of what I was wearing. I was always meticulous about what I wore on the first day of school. I picked out the perfect blue paisley sundress that I found on a boutique on Magazine Street and paired it with my brown Tory Burch boots. If Taylor Swift could pull off cowboy boots and dresses, then I figured I could, too.

Oh, they’re pretty sweet, right? I actually got them at Nordstrom’s. They’re Tory Burch.

She rolled her eyes like I just said the stupidest thing in the world. Maybe she didn’t know about Tory Burch?

Yep, I definitely got the right girl. I thought you might be some spoiled rich bitch.

Excuse me? I arched an eyebrow. I could have missed something, but I swore I did nothing wrong to the girl, and now she was name calling.

I saw some pictures of you and Blaine Crabtree on Facebook. Didn’t know he was actually dating again until I saw your fake ass on his arm.

What the hell was going on? Um, I’m sorry, but do I know you? Elsbury was a pretty small town, and I thought I had met everyone.

Of course you wouldn’t take the time to know me. I’m sure Blaine didn’t mention me. I also was very aware that after Blaine broke up with his long time girlfriend he had a lot of flings before we got together. I knew I’d run into one of them someday. I just didn’t think they would be as hostile as whoever this chick was.

Then obviously you know that I am Blaine’s girlfriend, Libby, and I honestly don’t know who you are, nor do I care. All I care about is that you either say whatever you need to say, or just take your seat so we can get this class started.

I realized that most of the other students had taken their seat, and since the professor hadn’t arrived, everyone was staring at us; probably waiting for some down home girl fight. I’d never gotten into a fistfight in my life, and I wasn’t about to start on my first day of school.

She opened her mouth to say something but before she could a deep, southern accent bellowed from the front of the room. Morning, class.

Thank God, saved by the professor. Even if he did look like Colonel Sanders with his bright white hair, goatee, small round glasses, and even a white suit. Was that how all my professors would dress?

The girl leaned over, her breath hot on my face. This ain’t over yet. She turned on the heels of her very scuffed up boots, that were obviously not Tory Burch, and went to the back of the classroom.

So much for first impressions.

Chapter 2

After biology, I was afraid the girl would come after me and try to start some rough and tumble girl fight in the hall, so I squeezed out of there and bolted to my Art History class. I didn’t even have time to think or scan the small classroom. I just plopped down at the first desk I saw and pulled out my phone.

She didn’t look familiar, but then again maybe I didn’t know everyone in town, or maybe Blaine just tried to keep me away from her. I pulled up my Facebook account and went to Blaine’s page. Another girl hadn’t written on his wall for awhile, so I searched through his friends list. That’s when I finally spotted her picture. She was standing on the back of a rusted pickup truck, holding a very large gun in one hand and some kind of small animal in the other.

Great, just the type of girl I wanted to have hate me, one that liked to shoot animals as a hobby. Nikki Sinclair was her name. From Elsbury. I wondered why I never heard of her before. I tried