Lost (15 page)

“Come on,” he said gamely. “You can't tell me you want to hang out with Natasha and Tatiana more than you want to hang out with me. What's so great about home?”

Then Gaia's face actually reddened. She looked at the floor, then at the door again, then at the floor again before looking into his eyes. He couldn't believe it. He'd thrown her. Something was definitely going on. Ed felt all the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

What's going on!?

“I just . . . I really need to be alone right now,” Gaia said, an almost pleading look in her eyes. She pressed her lips together, and Ed knew she was irritated that she was blushing. He knew that she knew that he was reading her like a book. Unfortunately he was only getting half the message.

“Gaia, why do I feel like there's something you're not telling me?” Ed asked.

She blinked. He was right. He'd thought they were beyond this. He'd thought things had changed and there would be no more secrets. He'd thought she was ready to tell him everything. The fact that she was still hiding something made his heart feel sick.

“You always feel like there's something I'm not telling you,” Gaia said, trying for flip but failing miserably.

“And I'm always right,” Ed replied. He was starting to harden. He couldn't take this anymore. There was no way he could endure being shut out again, but he could already see the wall building back up around her. The wall it had taken him so long to break through.

“Well, you're not this time,” Gaia said. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. She was a bad liar. Always had been.

“You're really not going to tell me?” Ed asked when she pulled back.

“Ed—”

“Whatever. I'm too tired to do this right now,” Ed said, shoving his hands into his pockets so hard, they almost came right through the seams. “I guess I'll just see you in school tomorrow.”

Before she could respond, Ed crossed the lobby and was out the door. On the sidewalk, with the cool evening air bathing his face, he instantly felt the immaturity of what he'd just done and was humiliated. But his pride had gotten the better of him, and he couldn't turn back. Not even when he heard her calling his name over the din of the city.

He'd obviously managed to stay in shape at that compound. Just what she needed—a nice big dose of half-naked Sam.

Pink Pants

GAIA WALKED INTO THE DARKENED
apartment, her arms full of takeout bags and groceries. She took one quick look around and used her hip to quietly push the door shut. She had to get rid of all the loot before anyone saw her with it and asked too many questions. She paused and held her breath, listening. A Britney Spears song bopped its way down the hall from the room she shared with Tatiana. The girl did so love her top 40.

A door opened, and Britney grew louder. There was a creak in the hallway. Gaia sprinted into the kitchen, threw her bags into the pantry, and slammed the door. “Mom?”

Gaia whirled around just as Tatiana appeared at the kitchen doorway.

“Hi,” Tatiana said, rolling a pencil between her two palms. Her forehead crinkled. “What was that noise?”

“Just . . . looking for a snack,” Gaia said, making a big show of opening one of the cabinets and pushing boxes and bags around inside. She wondered what Sam was doing at that moment. Imagined him with his ear up against the wall, trying to hear if it was she who'd just come home.

“How's your dad doing?” Tatiana asked, sliding
onto one of the stools that stood next to the high breakfast counter.

Oh, so
now
she cares about my dad.

Gaia paused. Tatiana's nonchalance was befitting of someone making a health inquiry about a gerbil. Maybe she was in a rare form of advanced-stage denial. It was fine with Gaia, though. Her roommate's lack of sincerity coupled with her outrageous display of self-centeredness in the gym this afternoon justified Gaia's plan to blow her off. She just couldn't deal with conversing right now. Sam was two doors away, probably a little scared, probably hungry, probably wondering when she was coming back.

“Gaia?”

“Oh . . . sorry,” she said, pulling out a bag of chocolate chip cookies and popping one into her mouth. “I spaced. I guess I'm just hungry,” she said through a mouthful.

“You probably haven't eaten all day,” Tatiana said sympathetically. She reached for the phone on the wall next to her. “You want me to call Golden Wok? We can have dinner, and you can tell me what the doctors had to say and—”

“No, thank you,” Gaia blurted a little too quickly with a little too much edge cracking through her voice. “Actually . . . I'm kind of tired,” she added.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Tatiana asked,
hanging up the phone again. “I'm studying, but I can go in the den. . . . ”

This is a nightmare,
Gaia thought. The apartment was too small. Wherever Tatiana went, she was going to know where Gaia was. They could hear each other's every movement no matter where they were in the apartment.

“I'm probably going to be up for a few more hours, so if you want to pass out, feel free,” Tatiana said, slipping off the stool.

Gaia forced a strained smile. “Yeah, I guess that's what I'll do,” she said. It was as good a solution as any. At least if Tatiana thought she was sleeping in the bedroom, she probably wouldn't come in. Probably, maybe.

Glancing at the pantry, Gaia followed Tatiana from the kitchen back to their bedroom, where Tatiana started to gather her books. Gaia sat on the edge of her bed, holding her messenger bag on her lap, and watched her. She felt bad about tossing Tatiana out for no reason, but she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't let anyone find out about their houseguest. The bedroom was the only place she had any chance of being undisturbed. If she was going to be in it, of course.

“Did you talk to any of the doctors?” Tatiana asked as she shoved her notebooks into her canvas bag. “Have they come up with anything?”

“Not yet,” Gaia replied. “But I met this one guy who seemed to know what he was doing.”

“Yes?” Tatiana said, raising her eyebrows hopefully. She seemed almost intrigued. “Does he have an explanation?”

Gaia shrugged. “He said something about a rare hormone release,” she explained. “They're testing my dad's blood again.”

“Good. Maybe this doctor will find the answer and soon this will all be over,” Tatiana said. She clicked the edges of a few papers against the desk as if to punctuate her point.

I hope so,
Gaia said to herself.

Tatiana finished gathering her things and picked up her portable radio, which was still blasting Britney. “Sleep well,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

“Thanks,” Gaia replied guiltily. Here Tatiana thought she was emotionally exhausted, when in fact she was planning a secret rendezvous with a fugitive on the other side of the apartment.

Tatiana turned to leave, then paused and looked over her shoulder, her nose scrunching. “Do you smell hot dogs?” she asked.

Gaia colored. She lifted one shoulder and glanced down at the messenger bag in her lap, cursing Gray's Papaya for their pungent eats. “Must be coming from outside.”

Tatiana frowned. “Okay. I'll see you in the morning,” she said.

Gaia waited until she heard the den door close, muffling the pop princess, then crept over to the bedroom door and closed it almost all the way, stopping just before it could click shut. She kicked off her boots and crossed to her bed, rearranging the pillows and blankets to make it look like someone might be sleeping there. It wasn't the most convincing job, but it would suffice if someone decided to glance in.

Back at the door, she turned off the light and slipped out of the room, closing the door loudly so that Tatiana would think she'd gone to bed. Then she tiptoed quickly down the hall, across the living room, and over to the kitchen. As she pulled the bags out of the pantry, she knew Tatiana was going to hear. Each crinkle of a plastic bag seemed to be amplified a thousand times. But there was no sign of her roommate. Gaia hugged the bags to her chest and headed for Sam's room.

She smiled.
Sam's room.

She paused outside the door, reached out one hand shakily, and turned the knob. Sam shot up like a dart as the door swung open.

“Oh, it's just you,” he said, his bare chest heaving as he clutched a book in one hand.

She'd scared him, she knew. She knew what it looked like—she just didn't know what it felt like.

Gaia ripped her eyes away from his skin, resisting
the urge to tell him to get dressed. He'd obviously managed to stay in shape at that compound. Just what she needed, a nice big dose of half-naked Sam. She already felt guilty enough for ditching Ed. For not telling him Sam was back. For keeping her ex in her apartment right under Ed's nose and not sharing. Now he was sitting around half naked and looking good. Damn good.

“Just me and a ton of provisions,” Gaia whispered, dropping to her knees and putting down her bags. She turned and closed the door quietly, then sat back as Sam went through the bags, watching him with her teeth holding her lower lip like she was watching her parents open Christmas presents.

“Gaia, what the heck did you do?” Sam asked, his eyes wide.

He pulled out the blue-and-white box that held the mini-TV she'd purchased at 6th Avenue Electronics.

“I didn't want you to get bored,” Gaia said with a shrug, even though she was giddy from his surprised reaction.

“Please! This place is like a funhouse compared to where I was,” Sam said, lifting the Tom Clancy book he'd chosen from the stack Gaia brought in earlier. “You didn't have to do this.”

Gaia blushed and shrugged again, as inarticulate as ever.

She waited as Sam unpacked all the food—everything
from pretzels to soda to peanut butter and bread. He stacked everything up in a neat pile along the wall as if he were making a little home for himself. When he turned away from her, she saw two fleshy pink circles on his back, wrinkling with scar tissue. She had to gulp to keep from groaning aloud. Bullet wounds. They were right there. Sam Moon had been shot. Twice. All because of her.

He turned around again, and Gaia looked away so he wouldn't catch the pain and guilt in her eyes. She didn't want him comforting her again. She wasn't sure she could stand it, especially after what she'd just seen. He smiled at her and then pulled out the inflatable mattress from the last bag. They both just looked at it, overwhelmed.

“I guess we could take turns blowing it up,” Gaia said. “I can't exactly bring the vacuum cleaner in here. I don't even know if we have one.”

“Gaia, this is great. Thank you,” Sam said, putting the box aside. He looked at her and scrunched up his nose. “Do I smell hot dogs?” he asked.

Gaia grinned and pulled her messenger bag from her shoulder. “This is our dinner,” she said, lifting out the white Gray's bag. When she opened it, the entire room filled with the smell of boiled hot dogs and relish. Gaia breathed it in, closing her eyes. She hadn't eaten real food in twenty-four hours, and her stomach responded with a painfully loud grumble.

“Oh my God. I forgot about those,” Sam said, his mouth almost visibly watering.

Gaia pulled out the loaded hot dogs one by one and flattened one of the shopping bags to use as a table. She laid everything out, then looked at Sam and nodded.

“So, dig in,” she said.

As she and Sam ate, Gaia told him all about everything that had happened since he'd disappeared. She left out the gorier, more disturbing details but filled him in on the greater points—her father's return (he was happy for her), her father's hospitalization (he was sad for her), Heather's blindness (he was thrown and stopped eating), and Ed's ability to walk (he was surprised and glad). She didn't tell him that she and Ed were a couple. That she and Ed had had sex. That she and Ed were in love. All greater points. All left unsaid.

“So . . . how are things with you? Other than your dad, I mean?” Sam asked when she was done with the storytelling.

Ed's face floated before her mind's eye, and her body felt thick with guilt and longing, but she couldn't tell him. She wasn't sure if it was for his sake or her sake or if it somehow made things even in her mind—Sam didn't know about Ed, Ed didn't know about Sam. But somehow she knew she didn't want to see his face when she told him, so she didn't.

“Things are fine, you know,” Gaia said, lifting her shoulders and letting them fall. “As fine as ever.”

Sam smiled and pushed himself up off the floor, then crawled over to Gaia's sleeping bag. He leaned up against the wall just as he'd done earlier that day when he'd finished eating. He was starting to look better, with more color in his cheeks and less color under his eyes.

“I called my parents before,” he said.

Gaia's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she shoved the last bite of hot dog into her mouth. “You left the room?” she asked.

“I'm sorry, but I had to,” Sam replied. “No one saw me, I swear. No one was home. I just . . . I had to talk to them.”

Gaia's heart turned for him, and she stopped chewing and made herself swallow. It wasn't like she could blame him. She was sure she would have done exactly the same thing.

“What did they say? What did
you
say?” she asked.

“I told them that I was okay and I was sorry and I couldn't come home yet. I mean, I'd kill to go home, but they might find me there,” Sam said, looking down at the sleeping bag. “I told them it was for their own safety, and they freaked out—wanted to know what I'd gotten myself involved in.” He looked at Gaia, his hazel eyes laughing sadly. “Imagine trying to explain that.”