Rebel (3 page)
Authors: Francine Pascal
"So," she said, glancing at Ed and Mary. "Whose turn is it now?"
UNDER NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES, ED WOULD
have loved hanging out with two beautiful girls.
Pandora's Box
But circumstances involving Gaia were never normal.
At least he'd convinced them to leave the park and retreat to the cozy warmth of Gaia's brownstone. That was
something
.
Now, however, he would probably drive himself crazy staring at Gaia and Mary as they lounged side by side on the overstuffed living-room couch. Any beautiful girl had a habit of driving Ed crazy these days--and not just Gaia. Yup. The needle was continuously popping into red on the Fargo lust-o-meter. But he was good at
hiding his lecherous thoughts.
It was a skill he'd cultivated carefully since the accident. That was something, too.
"All right, Ed, it's your turn," Gaia announced.
He shook his head. "You actually want to keep
playing?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Gee, I don't know," he said, with as much sarcasm as he could manage. "Maybe because somebody just attacked you."
"Oh, please." She waved her hand dismissively. "That was nothing."
He wanted to argue, but there probably wasn't
much point. For Gaia, flipping that guy on his ass and scaring the hell out of him
was
nothing. He'd seen her do a lot worse.
"I say we go back out there," Mary said. She sat up straight, peeking distractedly through the windows out to Perry Street. "Being cooped up inside is so lame. It's not
that
cold. As long as we keep moving around, we'll be fine."
Ed slouched back in his wheelchair. "Um ... haven't you guys forgotten about the truth part of this game? If everyone picks truth, we'll be fine. We won't have to do anything stupid."
"Forget it," Gaia stated. She shook her head vehemently. "You can't tell people what to pick. That ruins the point of the game." She smiled at him. "And for making such a lame suggestion, I say that you have to go next."
Mary turned away from the window. "I second that motion," she said,
grinning wickedly.
Ed sighed. So much for trying to be clever. He should know better by now.
"Fine." He groaned. "Then I pick truth."
But as soon as he closed his mouth, he began to regret his decision.
This was probably going to suck.
Big time. Gaia wasn't going to sugarcoat a "truth" for him. No. She never sugarcoated anything. She wasn't the least bit concerned about sparing his feelings.
Of course, that was what he loved most about her.
Other people acted extra kind because he was in a wheelchair. Or they just pretended to ignore the chair altogether. But Gaia did neither. She was too honest to be polite. So was Mary. It was no wonder they got along so well.
"Truth, eh?" Gaia asked. She exchanged a quick glance with Mary. There was a sparkle in her eye. "All right, Ed Fargo." She looked him straight in the face. "Did you and Heather ever do the nasty?"
His jaw tightened.
Dammit.
He was starting to remember why he hated this game so much. It figured Gaia would mention Heather. Right. It figured because he never would have expected it. Why
would
she bring up Heather? Gaia hated Heather. And vice versa. They had a perfectly reciprocal relationship.
Yin and yang.
And there was also the unpleasant fact that Heather was currently dating Sam, the guy whom Gaia loved.
But that was Gaia for you. She was a Pandora's box of surprises. Always walking that fine line between psychopath and friend. She never seemed completely satisfied unless the air was thick with tension--or if she was in danger of getting herself hurt.
"Well?" Gaia prodded.
Ed chewed his lip. There was another reason this question sucked so much.
He'd never told anyone about his sex life.
He and Heather
had
lost their virginity to each other, only weeks before the accident ... but they had made a pact to keep it secret. It was their business. Theirs alone. And in spite of the fact that they had broken up over two years ago, Ed still treasured the memory enough to honor that pact. He wouldn't violate it for the sake of a stupid game,
even if it pissed off Gaia.
"I changed my mind," Ed finally said. "I want to pick dare."
"No way," Mary interjected. She shook her head. "That's against the rules."
Gaia blinked. For an instant Ed caught her gaze.
Her face softened. "No, that's all right. We'll let the rules slide this time." She grinned. "But just this once."
Ed sighed, relaxing a little bit. That was Gaia for you, too. Just when you thought you'd lost her to the dark side forever, she pulled off some little miracle to let you know there was a heart in there somewhere--
buried deep under that impenetrable shell.
"You know what? I actually think I've gotta split," he lied. "It's late. My parents start worrying. You know?"
"Sure," Gaia said softly.
"I don't know," Mary teased. "Sounds like a cop-out to me."
Whatever,
Ed thought. Let Mary think it was a
cop-out. At this point he didn't really care. Gaia understood. That was all that mattered.
He turned his chair toward the door. Luckily Gaia's brownstone was one of the tiny minority of houses in Manhattan that were actually wheelchair friendly. Making a quick getaway would be easy.
"Hey, wait a second," Mary said. "What do you say we pick up where we left off tomorrow? That way we can play outside again--when it's light out and warmer." Her voice became excited. "We can use all of New York City as a playing field."
Ed glanced over his shoulder. "I don't know," he said doubtfully. "I mean--"
"Come on, Ed," Gaia interrupted. "What else are you gonna do?"
That was a good question. He knew the answer, too.
He was going to sit alone in his house all day long and think about her.
And that was just too sad to think about. Not to mention pathetic.
"So are you in or are you out?" Mary demanded impatiently.
Ed sighed. "I'm in," he mumbled.
At the very least, he'd be able to keep an eye on her. Maybe he'd even be able to keep her from doing something incredibly risky or stupid.
Maybe he'd even save her life.
Yeah, right. He could try, anyway. The way he always did. That was also something. Wasn't it?
To:
L
From:
ELJ
Date:
December 22
File:
776244
Subject:
Gaia Moore
Last Seen:
Perry Street residence, 11:23 P.M
.
Update:
Subject observed again with new companion, Mary Moss. Seems to be developing an emotional attachment. Preliminary intelligence indicates Moss is a recovering substance abuser. My own observations lead me to believe she nurtures subject's disregard for authority or personal safety. Advise.
To:
ELJ
From:
L
Date:
December 23
File:
776422
Subject:
Gaia Moore
Directives:
Continue to monitor Moss's interaction with subject. I will monitor as well. Neutralization may be required if she places subject in danger. Await further instructions.
I used to think that having a best friend or soul mate or whatever you want to call it was a load of fairy-tale crap. Best friends exist only on TV shows. As far as I was concerned, nobody could get close to another person in real life. People are just too phony. Or evil. Or self-interested. If somebody becomes your friend, it's usually because they want something in return.
As I said, that's what I used to think. But that was back when I was doing about three grams of coke a day.
It's funny, because I had a lot of friends back then. Tons. They just weren't real. Some of them knew about my habit, and some didn't. It didn't matter, though. I was high all the time. I put on an act with everybody. I used to feel like I had a magic bag full of invisible masks--and I just would change into a different one, depending on the situation. My
real face never showed. To be honest, I didn't even know what my real face was or if I even had one.
But then I met Gaia Moore. Or to be more specific, she exploded into my life.
For starters, she beat the crap out of Skizz, the asshole coke dealer who was about to pump a bullet into my stomach. I've never seen anything like it. She was like some kind of fighting machine. There I was, trapped in the park--facing down the barrel of a gun--and all of a sudden this mass of blond hair appears out of nowhere, belts Skizz a few times, and then sends him running away. Then she collapsed. Quite an introduction, huh? At least she let me buy her a cup of coffee.
But after that, I felt like there was a magnet pulling me toward her. I couldn't stop thinking about her. I was fascinated--and a little confused, too, because she didn't seem to want anything from
me. She never has. Except for me to quit doing drugs.
It's strange. Those first few days after I stopped using cocaine, I used to think that there was no way I'd be able to function without it. I was convinced I would have to hide myself away from the rest of the world for the rest of my life.
But when I'm with Gaia, something happens to me. It's almost as if all my fear just melts away and evaporates into thin air. Seriously. I'm fearless. I can do anything. And the rush I get from hanging out with her is a hell of a lot more real and intense than the buzz I got from doing a couple of lines.
Not to say that life is peachy. My problems aren't over. For one thing, my family doesn't trust me. Why should they? I lied to them for years. They thought I was the perfect daughter. Little did they know. So now they watch me the way a guard would watch a
dangerous prisoner. A nice group of guards, but still.
And even though I left the world of cocaine behind, other people haven't. I still owe Skizz five hundred bucks. People like Skizz don't forgive debts. It's bad for their business.
I guess that's another reason I like hanging around with Gaia so much. She makes me feel safe.
For a terrible instant her body stiffened-- petrified in the freezing December air.
I'm dead,
she realized.
"TRUTH OR DARE?" MARY ASKED.
The Face in the Crowd
Gaia rolled her eyes. "I
told
you, Mary. You don't need to ask me. I'm not gonna pick truth. Ever. Under any circumstances." She smiled. "Got it?"
Mary shook her head. She glanced down at Ed. She could tell that he was getting frustrated, too. This was ridiculous. They had been wandering around downtown for almost three hours, and Gaia still hadn't picked truth. What would it take, anyway? A gun to her head? Well ... no, that probably wouldn't work, either.
The problem was, the girl had a pathological aversion to revealing any information about herself. The only reason Mary had suggested this game in the first place was to answer all the
tantalizing Gaia questions
that had festered in her mind over the past seven weeks. Like why Gaia's parents were out of the picture. Or where she had lived before New York. Or how she had learned to fight like Wonder Woman meets Jackie Chan. Or what the
real
deal was between Gaia and Heather Gannis's boyfriend, Sam Moon ...
Or why she seemed so certain that she could die at any moment.
"So?" Gaia prompted, clearly enjoying herself. "What's it gonna be?"
Mary glanced at Ed again, who shrugged. They were having fun, but this was starting to bug the hell out of her. There was only one solution. She had to dare Gaia to do something so over the top that there would be no
way
she could pull it off. But that posed another problem. So far, Gaia had eaten a dozen doughnuts in less than a minute (without barfing) and done a handstand on the median of the West Side Highway (without dying). And smiled the whole time.
She had to have a breaking point, though. Everyone did.
Mary shoved her hands into her pockets and glanced into the northwest entrance of Washington Square Park. Somehow they always managed to end up here. She didn't have the slightest clue why, either. The place wasn't exactly hopping with action. It was gray and cold and miserable. The sun was beginning to fade. A few heavily bundled old men were huddled around the chess tables, but that was it.
She supposed she could always dare Gaia to kiss one of them and watch another fight. Nah. Been there, done that ...
"I got it," Ed said. He turned his wheelchair back toward Waverly Place and pointed at a little Italian restaurant on the opposite corner, La Cocina. It wasn't more than a hundred feet away. There was a table full of thirty-something yuppies in the window: bloated Wall Street types who had probably left work early to get a head start on the night's drinking. The West Village was
filled with people like that at this time of year--people who had a convenient excuse to get drunk earlier and more often than usual because it was "the holiday season." Mary knew all about that excuse, which was another reason she wanted to get out of here. The holiday spirit could get ugly fast. Guys like that inevitably got rowdy and leered at her. Or worse.