Rebel (2 page)

Mary ignored him. "Gaia?" she prompted. "What do you say?"

"Sure," Gaia said. It actually
did
sound exciting--at least to her. The fact of the matter was that she had never played truth or dare before.
Or
spin the bottle. Or any other games that normal kids would have played, the ones who didn't have
twisted secret agents for fathers.

But that was the great thing about hanging out with Mary. She introduced Gaia to all kinds of normal experiences. And always in a very abnormal way.

ED FARGO'S BIGGEST PROBLEM WASN'T
what most people might think: namely, that his legs would never work again. No. He'd learned to deal with that. Or at least
accept
it. It was just another part of his life now. An unpleasant part, sure--like suffering through history class, or seeing his ex-girlfriend Heather Gannis every single day, or forcing himself to smile back at all the phony bastards who pretended to take pity on him. But it wasn't
torture.
No, Ed Fargo's biggest problem was that he couldn't say no to Gaia Moore.

That was torture.

Even more tortuous (or pathetic) was that he was completely, utterly, one hundred percent in love with her. And she had absolutely no clue.

On more than one occasion he'd almost mustered the courage to tell her. He'd even gone so far as to compose a few e-mails and letters, but he always tore them up or deleted them at the last minute. A voice inside inevitably reminded him that it was
better to live with delusional hope than crushing rejection.

God. One of these days he was really going to have to shut that voice up.

But for now, it looked like he was resigned to following Gaia around like a dog and catering to her every whim. Unfortunately, this frequently involved

getting into fights, or ducking bullets, or discovering secrets that were probably best left buried.

As every lame-ass soap opera was quick to point out,
love sucked.

"So what do you say we get started?" Mary asked.

"Can we at least play at Gaia's house?" Ed groaned. His teeth started chattering. It wasn't from cold, either. The park didn't exactly fill him with a sense of safety and well-being. He'd almost been
murdered
here. He peered into the shadowy tangle of barren tree limbs that lined the path on either side. "We're all freezing our butts off, in case you forgot."

Mary shook her head. "I say we start here. Gaia?"

"No better time than the present," Gaia agreed.

It figured neither of them would listen to him. And he wasn't about to leave without them, either.
He really
was
a dog.
Woof, woof.

"So who goes first?" he grumbled.

"We'll shoot for it," Mary said. "Rock, scissors, paper." She stuck her hand behind her back. "On three ..."

Great, Ed thought. He hated rock, scissors, paper almost as much as truth or dare. With his luck, he'd probably lose--and they would dare him to strip naked and streak up Fifth Avenue in his wheelchair.

Mary smiled. "One ...two ...three ..."

Ed extended a fist: rock. It always seemed safest, although somebody smarter--like Gaia--might disagree.

His eyes flashed to Gaia's hand.
Ha!
Scissors. He glanced at Mary. Rock, too. Unbelievable.

Gaia Moore had actually lost.

It was probably the first time he'd seen Gaia lose at anything. He couldn't help but smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. It would be nice to see her do something ridiculous, wouldn't it?

"Oh, Jesus." Gaia moaned.

"Now, don't be a sore loser," Mary teased, winking at Ed.

"So which is it?" Ed asked gleefully. "Truth or dare?"

Gaia pursed her lips. "Dare. And you don't have to ask me again. It's dare for the duration of the game."

Mary clapped. "Perfect."

She turned back toward the arch. A solitary figure was sitting on one of the benches, wrapped in a scarf with a hat pulled low over his eyes--a skinny and grizzled older man Ed had never seen before. Ed's excitement began to fade. He could see where this was going. He should have known Gaia would never pick truth. He also should have known Mary would dare Gaia to take some inane, meaningless risk. Why did the two of them have to
create
trouble? Why did they have to pluck it out of thin air? He held his breath as Mary raised her hand and pointed at the figure.

"I dare you to go kiss that guy," she said.

TRUTH OR DARE WAS RIGHT UP GAIA'S
alley. She could tell right away that she would be able to add it to that short list of loves that made her life tolerable. Everything else on the list was food related. Well, she loved a good chess match.
And Sam.
But there was no point in dwelling on
that.

What she really loved were diversions.

She loved anything that distracted her from the dismal specifics of her existence.
And kissing some random stranger in the park certainly qualified as a diversion, didn't it?

She walked toward him on the darkened path, waiting for him to look up and notice her. But he didn't move. He was slumped on the bench. His legs were spread in front of him, his skeletal chest rising and falling in the even rhythm of sleep. Icy puffs of breath drifted away from his open mouth. Gaia's nose wrinkled.
Yuck
. Maybe he was drunk. Or
something.
She'd be sure to ask him if she could just kiss him on the forehead--

Wait a second.

He wasn't asleep. He was just pretending.

Only someone with Gaia's acute awareness in sizing up a potential opponent could detect the subtle clues of consciousness: the exaggerated way he exhaled, the concentrated stillness of his eyelids. So he was lying in wait. Setting a trap. The asshole was waiting to attack her.

A familiar electric energy shot through Gaia's body--the jolt that always came in place of fear. This was going to be even more fun than she had expected. How come she'd never thought of playing this game before? It was tailor-made for somebody with Gaia's unique condition:
somebody who felt only a sublime emptiness in the face of any threat.

Let's see what you can do, she silently taunted as she stepped in front of him.

She placed her feet squarely between his own. A smile played on her lips. Yes, she could see the tension building in his arms as they lay at his sides. His breathing quickened--just a little.
He was getting ready to make his move.
To take her by surprise.

Gaia glanced back at Mary and Ed. They were a good thirty yards away, silhouetted against the leafless trees. Their expressions were unreadable in the darkness. She gave them a quick thumbs-up. Then she caught a whiff of bourbon and winced. Disgusting. But she had to get it over with. Otherwise she would

lose--and losing was something she was not prepared to do. Fearlessness had to serve
some
purpose, even if it was for a game. And besides, this jerk needed to be taught a lesson. Gaia
lived
for teaching bullies lessons. She was committed.

"Excuse me, sir?" Gaia bent over to look into his eyes.

Two hands clasped around her wrists.

"Gotcha!" the man cried.

She almost laughed. "Give me a break," she mumbled disappointedly. It figured he would grab her by the arms.
It was the most obvious and idiotic form of attack.
But she'd let him enjoy the illusion of control for a second or two. His thick fingers dug through the fibers of her coat.

"Now what do you think you're doing?" he asked.

She didn't answer. Instead she just gazed into his haggard face. Talk about disgusting. His skin looked like an oil field. He must have been fifty years old. His beady black eyes were rheumy with alcohol.

"You wanna play with me?" he hissed, laughing. He gave her arms a sudden yank, pulling her closer. "Well, it's your lucky night, sugar. I'm gonna warm you up. I'm gonna give you something you'll never forget."

Gaia rolled her eyes. She only had to remember creeps like Charlie Salita and his rapist friend,

Sideburns Tim, to feel a
surge of anger.
But this guy was just too pathetic for any kind of major confrontation. And even though she wanted to prolong this encounter--just for the sake of excitement--the stink of this guy's breath and body were enough to make her puke. Too bad. Sighing, she stamped the heel of her combat boot on the man's toes.

"What the--"

A shocked whimper escaped his lips. His hold on her instantly loosened. Quick as a flash, she clasped his right hand against her left forearm. His eyes bulged. With a single deft maneuver she flipped him off the bench to the ground at her feet--flat on his back.

"What the hell?" he gasped.

He tried to wriggle free, but Gaia held his hand fast. She bent it back slightly.

"Ow!" he screamed.

His body went limp. He wouldn't try to move. She knew it. He'd tasted an excruciating pain. That was the beauty of this particular grip. She could snap his wrist in a second, but there was no need to injure him. It was the essence of true kung fu and one of the first lessons her father had taught her:
the art of intimidation
--the art of threatening torture without actually having to inflict it more than once.

"Now, you aren't going to try this with anyone else, are you?" Gaia asked calmly.

He didn't answer. He gazed up at her, wild-eyed. His breath came quickly. Even though the temperature was below freezing, she could see beads of sweat forming on his bulbous nose.

"Are you?" she persisted.

"No!" he grunted, cringing. "Come on! Lemme go! Lemme go, you bitch!"

Gaia frowned. "What did you call me?"

"Nothing." His eyes squeezed shut. "Just lemme go," he pleaded. "I'm sorry...."

"That's better," she said. "Now I'll let you go. Just as soon as you promise me you won't try to grab some other girl who--"

"Gaia!" Ed's voice sliced through the night air.

Oh, brother.
Once again
her self-appointed Superman
was swooping in to save the day. Why did Ed always try to get involved? He was undeniably brave and undeniably sweet, but he must have had a short-term memory problem. He'd seen her kick a dozen scumbags' asses, and
this
situation was certainly under control--yet he was still racing down the path as fast as the chair would carry him, with Mary close on his heels.
They made quite a rescue party.
She almost smiled.

"Come on," the guy at her feet murmured one last time.

Gaia glanced back down at him. "Fine," she said in a soft voice. "But if I ever see you in this park again, I'll

think twice about letting you get off so easy." Her tone was very matter-of-fact, as if she were explaining the rules of chess. "Got it?"

He nodded. His face was etched with what Gaia knew, intellectually, was fear. She let go of his hands, then leaned over and lifted him by the lapels of his coat. Jesus. He even was heavier than he looked. She shoved him out on the path and watched as he scurried away.

A rat, she realized. That's exactly what he looked like. A big, fat rat.

But one who'd learned never to proposition another teenage girl again.

Yes. The good thing about rats was that they could be easily trained. All they needed was a little
negative reinforcement.

"Gaia?" Ed gasped breathlessly, skidding to a halt. "Are you all right?"

She turned around. "I think I'll live," she said, trying not to smile.

"Holy shit!" Mary cried delightedly. She doubled over beside Ed. Her lungs were heaving. "That was
awesome.
What did he try to do to you, anyway?"

Gaia shrugged. "He told me he'd give me something I'd never forget," she replied. But as she spoke the words, a wave of exhaustion swept over her.

Without thinking, she slumped down on the park bench.

Her face twisted in a scowl. It was ridiculous: Even after a fight as pathetic as
that
one, she still felt
completely drained.
She supposed she should learn to expect it. Her body was like a balloon. In combat it would fill up with adrenaline and strength--and then
pop!
--it would deflate. Instantly. For a few minutes she would be unable to move. And somehow this peculiar handicap always managed to slip her mind when she was fighting someone. Maybe because she'd never understood it.

"Are you
sure
you're all right?" Ed asked, peering at her closely.

"Fine," she whispered. She shook her head.

After a few seconds her strength began to return. It flowed slowly into her arms and legs, filling them like a thick potion.

She dusted off her hands and stood.

She found herself smiling again.

In spite of the stench, kissing that guy had been a lot of fun. In a very weird way. It had been very diverting, too. She hadn't thought about Sam or her father or any other stupid crap at all during those precious few moments. Truth or dare was
definitely
her kind of game.
It helped her to forget.
And forgetting was a very, very good thing.