Page 2 of The Incredible Kindness of Paper
All you have to do is be YOU, she wrote for Xander, finishing it off with her signature doodle of a very tiny rosebud shaped like a heart. Then,as he watched, she deftly transformed the square of paper into a three-dimensional flower—a yellow rose, which symbolized friendship and joy.
Xander perked up in his chair as he held the paper flower in his hand. Chloe loved this part of her job. Xander had been slouched and despondent when he entered her office half an hour ago, and now his eyes sparkled again, a young man looking forward to summer with his family without the burdens of theshouldsandwhat-ifsthat he’d been carrying.
He smiled as he got up. “Thanks, Ms. Quinn. I hope you have a great summer.”
“You, too, Xander. See you in a couple months, okay?”
Not two minutes after Xander left, there was another knock at Chloe’s office door.
Rob Petrunin, the principal, leaned in her doorway like an old, overgrown beanstalk gone gristly with age, salt-and-pepper stubble shadowing his face and gray hair sticking out at his temples as if the school year had finally gotten to him at the very end.
Despite the heat, he wore his usual starched white shirt, sweater-vest, and wool slacks, and his tie was choked tight against his neck. Rob wrinkled his nose at the handful of paper roses that were scattered on Chloe’s desk. He’d never liked her approach of treating her students as adults and telling them to consider her their friend when they needed advice.
“Hi, Chloe. Was that your last meeting of the school year?”
“It was. I’m going to miss the kids over the summer.”
“Yeah, about that…” Rob reached over and helped himself to a Jolly Rancher from her candy dish. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’ve had some budget cuts in the district, and I’m afraid I have to let you go.”
She blinked at him. “I’m sorry… what?”
The plastic wrapper crinkled loudly as he popped the candy into his mouth. “The thing is, we have three counselors here, and I think we can make do with two. It’ll be more efficient.”
Chloe’s stomach plummeted, and she had to fight the urge to fall with it and hide under her desk. “B-but what am I supposed to do?” If the budget cuts were district-wide, that meant she wasn’t the only counselor in New York being let go. There would be very few job openings for her to apply to, if any.
“I’m sure you’ll get something.” Rob looked again at her origami flowers. “Maybe art classes or nannying. You were always a little…softwith the students here. You might find your skills are actually better suited to an adjacent field.”
Chloe had no words.
“Anyway,” Rob said, “I’m sure you’ll land on your feet. You’re a diligent worker. It’s been great having you on staff these last two years.” He swiped two more Jolly Ranchers from her dish and left.
Chloe gaped at the empty space where Rob had just destroyed her life in five glib minutes. And then she looked at the empty chair across her desk, where Xander had sat not long ago.
She wouldn’t be here, like she’d promised, when he and all his classmates returned for the next school year. She wouldn’t be here to help them with their schedules, with choosing which vocational schools or colleges were right for them, or to let them unburden their troubles about their friends and romances and their lives outside the school walls.
She couldn’t give them encouragement to keep in their pockets.
As Chloe packed up her office—the senior photos her students had given her, the yearbook all the kids had signed, and the stacks of yellow origami paper she always kept on hand—she tried to hold herself together. But then she realized no one was there anymore.
So she let it all go, and she cried.
New York had always been a lonely place despite all the people. When Chloe first moved here, she’d thought she would never feel alone in a sea of so many faces. But it turned out that isolation and loneliness were different things—you could spend your days watching kids laughing together in the halls or families picnicking in the park, yet still come away from it feeling lonely becauseyoudidn’t have those kinds of people in your life.
On her way home, it all seemed even worse, as if isolation and loneliness had now conspired to amplify their effect. All Chloe could see was how turned inward everybody was. Maybe it was because Rob had laid her off so callously, but everywhere Chloe looked, people rushed past each other as ifno one else mattered, like they were simply extras in a movie that featured one—and only one—actor.
A man walking into a sandwich shop let the door drop shut after him, instead of holding it open for the mom with two kids in a double stroller who was two steps behind. A young woman on the subway didn’t get up to allow an older man on crutches to sit down. And everywhere, everyone was focused on their phones, supposedly engaged but all haunted by a glazed loneliness in their eyes.
She really needed someone to talk to. But she was alone in an enormous city. So, aware of the irony, she pulled out her phone and opened up the text conversation with Zac Billings, a British guy she’d been seeing for about six weeks. He wasn’t her boyfriend—Chloe wasn’t ready to be exclusive and put a label on things—but they saw each other once or twice a week and that was good enough for now.
Chloe:Hey… bad news
Zac:What happened?
Chloe:I got laid off
Zac:WHAT?
Chloe:I didn’t see it coming. I mean, I knew there were going to be budget issues… but I didn’t think it would hit us. Those kids need more caring adults in their lives, not fewer.
