My name is Sylvia Thea Julian. I was a paper girl once. A paper girl, living in a paper house in a paper town. This is the story of how I became a real girl. A real girl, living in a real house in a real town. All indirectly thanks to Margo Roth Spiegelman, the original paper girl who realized she was paper.

Xxx

The first seventeen years of my life, I had limited social interaction with kids my age. I guess that kind of comes from being home-schooled. But after I "graduated" a year year, my mother decided we'd move to Orlando and that I'd take a year off before going to college. Her exact words were, 'Spend a year interacting with other kids, and go when the freshmen are your age'. So that's how I ended up moving next to Quentin Jacobsen, the summer before he went off to college.

Xxx

The first time I met him, my mother had dragged me over to the neighbor's, saying that I needed to meet the people we'd be living next to. My mother has always been a peppy person. I guess that comes after having to act fine after my father left when I was two.

She'd knocked on the door, a huge grin on her face. A couple opened the door. "Hi!" My mother exclaimed. "I'm Anna Julian, and this is my daughter Sylvia. We just moved in next door."

The couple smiled. "We're Ruth and John Jacobsen, and...one minute," the woman said. She opened the door, gesturing for us to come in, and then yelled up the stairs, "Quentin! We have visitors!"

A boy about my age came down the stairs. I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't pound a little. But, you know, I never really talked to a kid my age before. Yeah, that must've been it.

He nodded at us politely. "Quentin."

I held out my hand. "Sylvia."

He shook it briefly. "Nice to meet you, Sylvia." He turned to his mother. "Mom, Ben and Radar want me to meet them at the park."

His mother, Ruth, nodded. "Go ahead. Oh, wait! You should take Sylvia with you!"

Quentin looked horrified. "Mom, I'm sure she doesn't want to hang out with us."

I glanced at the floor. "I don't want to trouble you..."

My mother, curse her, chose that time to talk. "Yes, Sylvia, you should go! Hang out with kids your age! Have social interactions! She was home-schooled, you know." The last part was whisper-yelled.

I could've facepalmed. No, mom. Don't make me the awkward home-schooled girl. Even though I am.

That seemed to make up Mrs. Jacobsen's mind. "Take her with you, Quentin. She needs to make some new friends." She handed him a set of keys. "Take her," she repeated with emphasis.

Quentin looked uneasy. "I guess you're coming with." He gestured in the direction of the door, and I followed him out to his van.

Xxx

The drive to the park was silent and awkward. I guess that's what happens when you drive with someone you literally met three minutes ago. I break the silence. "I'm sorry if I ruin your time with your friends."

"You won't ruin it," he assured me. "My friends are just...well, a little weird."

I smirk a little. "I'm an expert on weird."

He raised an eyebrow with a smile. "Like, world's largest collection of black Santas weird?"

I laugh out loud. "What?!"

He grinned. "Not even joking. My friend Radar, his parents have the world's largest collection of black Santas."

I shake my head, giggling. "That's...different."

"Yeah, and he hates it." Quentin stops the car at the park, and we get out.

Two boys and two girls sit at a picnic table up ahead. I follow Quentin over. One of the boys yells, "Q! Who's the chick? She's hot!"

The girl sitting next to him smacks him, and he reassures her, "But not as hot as you."

The girl smiles.

We stop at the table, and Quentin introduces me. "Guys, this is Sylvia. She just moved in next door. Sylvia, this is Ben, Lacey, Radar, and Angela."

Quentin sits next to Radar, leaving me standing until Lacey scoots over. "Sit, Sylvia. So, how old are you?"

I tap out a pattern of three onto the table. "Seventeen."

"So you'll be a senior next year?"

I shake my head. "I was home-schooled. I graduated this year."

Lacey smiles. "Smart. Exactly Quentin's type."

Both Quentin and I blush. "Lacey, I just met her today."

Lacey raised an eyebrow. "Who's to say she's not your new Margo Roth Spiegelman?"

That name quieted him. Unable to stand the quiet that had fallen over everyone, I asked the question. "Who's Margo Roth Spiegelman?"

Lacey shrugged. "She was my best friend, and Quentin even thought he loved her for a while. She was a mystery. She ran away often, and the last time that she ran away, she didn't want to be found."

I still didn't understand, but I just nodded. Ben broke the silence by asking, "So, purely out of curiosity, are you single?"

I flushed. "Yeah. Never met many people."

Radar asked, "Have you ever heard of Omnictionary?"

I shook my head. His eyes lit up and he launched into a description. "Omnictionary is God's gift to mankind. An online dictionary that you can edit as information becomes available. A smart person's haven." He pulled out his phone and showed me the site. "I've spent the last hour updating the page on the raccoon," he informed me.

I grinned and scanned the page. "Wow. That's...very detailed."

Angela leaned over to me. "Don't pretend to be interested if you aren't, because he won't shut up about it if he thinks you're interested in Omnictionary."

"No. It's honestly cool."

Radar told Quentin, "You've got a keeper here, Q."

Quentin looked annoyed. "Why do you all think she's my girlfriend?"

"Because we have all collectively decided to dislike Margo and find you a girlfriend," Lacey deadpanned. "And Sylvia here is perfect."

I focused my attention on Radar's phone so I wouldn't have to comment, editing the page on Mercury, the planet.

Xxx

By the end of the week, I had made five new friends. My first friends. We hung out every day, since we didn't have anything else to do. But we never tired of each other's company. These days seemed normal, until Saturday night.

I woke up to a knock at my window. Heart pounding, I checked the clock as I grabbed my baseball bat. 11:03. My window opened up, and I whacked the figure with a baseball bat. They exclaimed, "Ow!" and I recognized the voice.

I dropped the bat. "Quentin?!"

He nodded. "Why the heck did you hit me with a baseball bat?!"

"Well, what was I supposed to do?! You just climbed in through my window at eleven at night!"

"I guess you have a point."

"What are you doing here?"

He paused. "Oh, that's right. I was here to ask if you wanted to egg a house."

"You woke me up to ask me to egg a house with you?"

He nodded. "Yes. I want to egg Margo Roth Spielgelman's house. Specifically, her window."

I considered it. Quentin said, "One day, when you look back, will you regret having not egged Margo Roth Spielgelman's house?"

That was all it took. I nodded, and Quentin climbed back out the window, holding out a hand to help me on to the roof. Once there, he guided me to the porch and down to thew ground. Once on the ground, he headed over to his house. "Wait here."

I waited patiently, and he returned with four cartons of eggs. "I wanted to do it properly," he explained. "YOu can't do anything halfway if life. Especially not getting over Margo Roth Spielgelman."

My heart felt heavy. "She must have been very special."

He snorted. "I guess. But more dramatic than anything. In the end, she was dramatic and wanted attention. She wanted the immortality that people in legends achieve. And she got that. So she left." He walked across the street, and I followed.

He readied an egg. "Her family's out of town on vacation." He handed me an egg. "To dramatic stories, and disappointment."

"To new starts." We threw our eggs simultaneously. Quentin's hit her window, but mine hit the side of the house.

He handed me a carton. "Try again."

I threw egg after egg, but couldn't hit her window. In frustration, I chucked the last egg aimlessly. It hit her window dead in the center, and I pumped the air in triumph, squealing. Quentin laughed, and I spontaneously gave him a hug. He spun me around, and we were caught in the moment, laughing and smiling in the night, having the darkness to ourselves.

Xxx