Fake

by Francine Pascal

ED SAT AT HIS DESK, FROWNING AT his computer screen as if challenging it to a duel. Since when did Megan send him e-mails? And what did she mean about Gaia doing something to Jake?

  What could she have done? Did this mean they weren’t together anymore?

  He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought. It was none of his business, really. He should recognize it for what it was: the conniving gossip that fueled the FOHs. Nothing more. Yet he just couldn’t stop these silly, Technicolor fantasies from rolling through his mind: Gaia beating Jake to a pulp, Gaia suspending him by his Calvin Klein underwear from the school’s flagpole, Gaia renouncing him publicly as the most boring mammal on the planet.

  Ed really had nothing against Jake. Jake was . . . Jake. He was a decent enough guy. Sure, he looked like he’d just breezed off the set of The OC, but he wasn’t the ego on legs one would expect. And he did seem to treat Gaia well. Ed couldn’t hate him. But he didn’t have to like the guy either, right? He didn’t wish anything horrible on him—nothing beyond a bad case of acne or a sudden relocation to Addis Ababa—but he was also not going to be Jake Montone’s friend, ally, or fan.

  Which brought him back to that pesky question at hand: What the hell did Gaia do to Jake?

  The phone rang. Ed quickly snatched it up, grateful for the opportunity to concentrate on something else. “Ed’s room. Ed speaking.”

  “Hey. How’s the convalescing?”

  Ed smiled. There was no mistaking Kai’s peppy, staccato inflections. “I am so convalesced. Convalesced is I. Any more soup or bed rest and I’ll become superhuman. Which is why I’m going to school tomorrow.”

  Kai gasped slightly. “Really? Ed, that’s excellent! I wish I could be there.”

  “What? You aren’t going to school?” Ed asked, feeling genuinely disappointed.

  “No. Remember? Mom’s taking me to check out Hartford College. You know, that all-women’s school? There’s no way in hell I’ll choose that place, but hey, if it means missing calculus, I’ll play along.”

  “I totally understand. Still, you will be missed.” Ed sighed. Something told him he might be needing Kai tomorrow. As a friend or maybe a diversion. Kai was one of the few happy, low-stress, low-maintenance things in his life at the moment.

  “Aw, that’s sweet,” Kai murmured. “You know, I’ll be thinking of you, too. There’re some swanky dress shops in Hartford Mom knows about. I’m going to see what they have in the way of prom wear. How are you doing finding a tux? Did you check out those web sites yet?”

  “Yep. Only they weren’t much help. Single-breasted versus double-breasted? Ascots versus bow ties? Vests versus cummerbunds? There’s more to this tuxedo-renting situation than I previously thought. Yet they all look pretty much the same. What is it, exactly, that distinguishes one black tuxedo from another? Their vintage? Their inner personality?”

  “Poor thing,” she teased. “You really are lost, aren’t you?”

  “It’s okay. I’m actually thinking about starting my own brand of tux. Something a little less confining. Baggier pants—maybe with a drawstring, even. Matching knit cap. Think of it as skater boi formal wear.”

  “Go ahead,” she said, laughing. “And you can fashion yourself a new date while you’re at it.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m the perfect date. In fact, I just got an e-mail from Megan Stein about how cool it is you and I going together.”

  “Really?” Kai sounded suspicious. “I’m surprised she was even interested. Was that all she wanted?”

  “Sort of. She also wanted to fill me in on the latest gossip. Something vague about Gaia doing something to Jake.” He tried to sound offhand, but for some reason, his voice grew stronger, with an added note of urgency.

  There was a slight pause. Then Ed heard the staticky sound of Kai sighing into the receiver. “Yeah. That,” she said.

  “Do you know what she’s talking about?” he asked, casting aside all pretense of indifference.

  “Yeah,” Kai replied haltingly. “I think so.”

  “Well . . . ?” Ed clenched his fist around the receiver, trying not to sound irritated. “What did you hear?”

  “I ran into Amy van Cline at Starbucks and she said Tammie Deegan had just been in, telling everyone how Gaia cheated on Jake with Skyler Rodke.”

  “What? No way!”

  “Hey, I’m just saying what she told me.” He could hear it now. There was clearly a hurt tone behind Kai’s voice.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s too weird. Gaia would never do a thing like that.”

  But even as he said it, a back compartment of his brain was spinning up a whole new line of thought Why was he so sure Gaia wouldn’t cheat? He’d certainly seemed to think she was capable of it when they were dating and she was getting chummy with Sam Moon again. Of course . . . she never did get back together with Sam, like he’d assumed she would. But Skyler Rodke? The guy probably had regular facials, for chrissake. How could Gaia be with a guy who probably had five different types of hair gel in his bathroom cabinet?

  Besides, the Gaia he’d come to know—as friend, confidant, and soul mate—just wasn’t capable of that sort of deception. In fact, the only times he’d known her to be devious, she’d either been in danger or protecting someone. So could this mean she was in trouble? She had been acting really strange lately. Crying, obsessing over non-Gaia things like prom and fashion. What did it all mean?

  “I’m sure it’s no big deal.”

  “Huh?” Was that Kai? Oh, yeah. He was talking with Kai. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to spaz. I just hate gossip. It’s so . . . high school.”

  “Right.” Kai’s pitch had fallen several notes. “Well, listen. I really should go. Good luck with tomorrow and your big comeback.”

  “Thanks. Have fun on your trip. Call me when you get back.”

  “I will,” she replied, rather unenthusiastically. “Bye.”

  Brilliant going, Fargo, he scolded himself as he hung up the phone. Kai was so great, so easygoing, so undeserving of him. And if he wasn’t careful, he was going to completely ruin things with her over this relentless obsession with All Things Gaia.

  Which reminded him . . . what the hell was going on between her and Skyler?

  Tightly Focused Hatred

  GAIA STOOD ON THE LAWN JUST below her window, gauging her fear. So far there was none. In fact, she felt great It was nice to slink out of that depressing little hovel for a while (thank you, Jake, for revealing this nifty little escape hatch).

  A cool breeze wafted over her, tickling her cheeks with the loose wisps of hair around her face. She could smell the breath of the city—salty sea air spiked with gasoline and just a hint of East River sludge. It invigorated her, beckoned to her, calling her forth into the heart of the city.

  She decided to walk down the street. After all, standing in the yard wasn’t a true test of her panic. Other than Suko or a wayward rat, she wouldn’t really find much to fear.

  Careful to stay in the shadows, she stole across the lawn and turned onto the sidewalk. Gaia felt an exhilarating rush of freedom. She’d forgotten how in sync she was with the nighttime. Her senses sharpened and her body felt revved. Even her mind seemed squeegeed of the day’s emotional residue. She should have been a cat. Or a nighthawk. Some creature no one would ever force into the sun.

  Gaia passed by the shuttered shops and sleeping apartment buildings. Couples walked past hand in hand, probably on their way from the theater. A group of noisy men dressed in athletic gear spilled out of a nearby bar and started hailing a cab. She even had to veer around a pair of winos stumbling crookedly down the sidewalk, their bottles, swaddled in brown paper bags, clutched tightly to their chests.

  At the other end of the block she paused, checking for fear. But she felt no trepidation whatsoever. In fact, she felt completely at ease, primed for action. Even—dare she say it?—content.

  Okay. Maybe she should go just a little farther.

  It was time for the ultimate test. Was
hington Square Park was just a few minutes away. At this hour it would be full of all sorts of things a normal person would find frightening. Just one stroll through the darkest path and she’d know beyond a doubt whether there was any fear left in her system at all.

  Soon Gaia saw the familiar arch in the distance. She quickened her pace, her feet knowing instinctively which path to take. It was as if she were coming home from a long voyage, a probe returning to its mother ship.

  And there was still no fear.

  Instead her body buzzed with expectation—the familiar thrill she always got when bubbly adrenaline coursed through her veins, topping off her power supply. She hurried past the chess tables, through a grove of trees, and into the park’s dark, chewy center.

  She knew what she wanted—what she almost needed to find. The park had never let her down before, and she hoped it wouldn’t fail her now.

  It didn’t. As Gaia made her way past a circle of park benches, she saw a group of people huddled in the trees beyond. It was her old buddies, the Droogs. There were five of them standing menacingly around a pair of twenty-something-year-old girls, circling and cackling like a pack of half-starved hyenas.

  “Hey, there,” she called out, advancing toward them without hesitation. “Yoo-hoo. I’m ho-o-ome.”

  This was so worth it, if only to see the confused looks on their crazed chimpanzee faces. After gaping at her, then at each other, they turned away from the scared, shaking girls and ambled toward Gaia.

  That’s right, she urged silently. Come to Papa.

  Sensing opportunity, the two girls immediately ran for it. None of the Droogs bothered to follow.

  “I don’t believe it,” said the tallest of the lot, a skinny, pimply-faced monster with four piercings in each eyebrow. “It’s her.”

  Gaia smiled sweetly at them. “You got it. The bitch is back.”

  A second later they were on her.

  It was nothing like the fight outside the boardinghouse or the scuffle in the alley next to Skyler’s building. Gaia felt no hesitation, no panic whatsoever. Only a tightly focused hatred. She easily dodged their blows and planted her own, as if the entire scene had been expertly choreographed.

  An elbow to one’s nose and he was on his back, hacking up blood. A jab to another’s solar plexus and he immediately fell forward and curled up like a baby. As a third one charged toward her, switchblade in hand, she skillfully stepped out of the way and turned his own momentum against him, sending him crashing into a nearby tree.

  How could she have ever found this daunting? She was like a racehorse that had been stabled for far too long. Her limbs and muscles practically sang with pleasure. This was what she was meant to do. She knew it with every hormonally charged molecule in her being.

  With a high, exhilarating kick she sent another attacker flying backward into one of his buddies. Their heads collided, knocking them senseless.

  There was only one left now. The tall goon with the bad skin and eyebrow jewelry. Three others were unconscious and a fourth was sputtering on the ground, clutching his head and seemingly self-destructing. Gaia felt slightly let down. It had all happened too fast.

  The guy loomed in front of her, grinning maniacally. He too had a knife—a crude, blunt hunting blade. “I knew you would be back,” he said in his high, frenzied voice.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah. God told me.” He lunged toward her, arms flailing wildly.

  “Oh, please.” What was this? A fight or a sermon? She’d had her fill of religious-sounding street trash.

  With one arm she deflected his attack, knocking the blade from his hand. With the other she hit him hard with an uppercut punch to the lower jaw.

  Gaia heard a muffled crunching sound and his head snapped backward. When he raised it again, his mouth hung slightly askew.

  And still he came after her, his hands scrabbling about in front of him, grasping for any part of her. She danced easily out of the way, almost bored with the whole proceeding. At least the guy couldn’t talk anymore.

  Finally, as he gave another desperate dive, she finished him off with a fast chop to the neck. He crumpled to the ground, moonlight glinting off the metal studs on his face.

  Gaia turned in a slow circle, staring down at her handiwork. For a second she felt a surge of satisfaction seeing all the limp, groaning skinheads. Then suddenly her vision blurred. Her body got that heavy, droopy feeling, warning her that her energy supply would soon be depleted.

  She managed to make it to the front of the park, to her favorite secluded bench. She dropped onto it and stretched out on the cool wooden planks. This time she didn’t fight the darkness.

  Just before the lid slammed shut on her consciousness, she wondered if she might wake up freaked and disoriented again, like last time. Somehow, though, she knew she wouldn’t.

  To: L

  From: K

  Re: Update

  Previous subject located again. Just spotted in WSP fighting with five unknown assailants. Subject’s combat skills appear to be at a higher level than last time. Impeccable timing and motor control.

  Do you wish monitoring to continue? Please advise.

  To: K

  From: L

  Re: Update

  Affirmative. Keep a tail on subject at all times and report periodically. Make note of subject’s body language and all individuals she associates with.

  Under no circumstances should you share intel with anyone but me.

  GAIA

  So old Gaia is back. As the classic blues song goes, “The fear is gone,” and so is new, fear-laden Gaia.

  I don’t know how I feel about it. In a way I’m relieved. I’m free to fight, really fight, and protect people I love. I’d thought fear would give me an edge in battle, but it didn’t. It only gave me one more person to fight–myself.

  I also thought fear would make me more normal. It did make things matter that I typically don’t give a damn about. Suddenly I was worried about prom and how I looked and fitting in with the right people–a regular Seventeen subscriber. But did it really help my social life? Hardly. The FOHs never truly became friends (although that doesn’t seem like such a tragedy now), and I only confused and alienated the people who truly matter to me, like Jake and Ed.

  But I can’t help wondering if I could have eventually gotten this fear thing down. Maybe it was just too much, too fast. Unlike normal people, who learn to master fear from birth, I got it dumped on me all at once at the ripe old age of seventeen. I needed time to adapt. It’s like I was given a grand piano and after banging around on it, frustrating myself and annoying the neighbors, it gets snatched away from me just when I was sounding out “Chopsticks.”

  Overall, I just feel robbed. This is the second time in my life I’ve been promised fear only to have it fail. The first time doesn’t really count, though. When Loki injected me with that serum, promising me a normal life, all I got was a long, nightmarish psychotic episode. This time it was real fear–at least, I’m pretty sure it was, having nothing to compare it to. I was Gaia the Meek instead of Gaia the Crazed Lunatic. I was a blubbery, cowardly, self-doubting disaster, but I was a normal disaster. I still fell within the broad category of natural teenage Homo sapiens.

  A few years ago I was watching this show on the Discovery Channel about the ascent of our species. At one part in the program it said that our fear allowed us to evolve and survive–prosper, even. When a caveman saw something resembling a saber-toothed tiger coming toward him or stumbled upon a snake shape in the grass, he would run first and grunt questions later. If it weren’t for fear, our only contribution to history would have been as human McNuggets for prehistoric carnivores.

  So I can’t help but wonder, now that I’m fearless again, will I personally evolve? Or am I stuck in neutral, doomed to make the same mistakes again and again until I eventually fall prey to something or someone I don’t recognize as dangerous?

  Excited Sizzle

  GAIA DISENTANGLED HER
SELF FROM the rose trellis and slid onto the narrow stone ledge separating Collingwood’s first and second stories. All she had to do was sidle along the wall until she reached her half-open window and climb back inside. Easy. Except for one small, irritating-as-hell problem.

  She had to pass by Zan’s bedroom window to get to her own. And Zan’s room, which had been dark when Gaia left, was now filled with light, her window gaping wide.

  Gaia inched forward and peered into the room. Sure enough, there was Zan, sitting in the middle of her floor. Across from her sat a thin, hawk-nosed guy with shockingly white skin and equally shocking jet black hair. The two of them were leaned into each other, completely silent, like the tilt before a kiss. Gaia suddenly felt like a high-wire Peeping Tom. Could she possibly slide past without them noticing?

  She was just about to tiptoe across, hoping they’d be too into each other to notice her balancing on the ledge like some giant blond pigeon, when something made her look back.

  Was it her imagination, or did she see the gleam of something metal between them?

  “That was awesome!” the guy exclaimed. “Okay, your turn.”

  There was a slight flurry of movement and then they were still again. Zan’s right hand lifted, her fingers gripping the body of an open three-inch switchblade. Gaia watched as Zan slowly inched the jagged point forward. It looked like she was playing airplane with it until Gaia realized she was aiming for something—and judging by the knife’s altitude, she was zeroing in on her pal’s left eye.

  In a fluid, catlike motion Gaia leapt through the open window, grabbed Zan’s right wrist, and pulled it straight up.

  “What the hell?” she demanded, wrenching the blade from Zan’s grasp. “Is gouging out eyeballs all the rage now?”

  Zan and the raven-haired guy just laughed.

  “Relax, Gaia! It’s only a game,” Zan said in an eager, twittery tone. “We were just seeing if we could make each other flinch, and we never could!”

  “Yeah, man,” the guy added in an equally keyed-up voice. “It’s so cool! You should try it.”