Escape (10 page)

“I am,” she said, confirming Sam's guess about her identity.

He stepped gingerly from the opposite wall and held out his hand. She took one last suspicious glimpse at his kind hazel eyes and then decided to shake.

“Sam,” he said as he shook her hand.

“That's what you said,” she replied, pulling her hand away quickly.

“Right.” He stepped back against the wall.

There was a brief, awkward silence.

“Sam. . . ,” she began.

“Yeah?”

“What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“
Yes
.” He let out a slight laugh. “Right. . . well. . . I, uh. . . told Gaia that I needed a place to stay—”

“Why don't you have a place to stay?” He might not be a murderer or a rapist, but that didn't mean she was done interrogating him.

Sam paused again. “Right. Well, that's a really long story. You know how it can get. . . with the parents. . . .”

She still couldn't tell if he was a horrible liar or just spoke in
strange cadences.
“You live with your parents?” she tested. “You look like you go to college. Don't you go to college?”

“I do,” he replied, throwing her off again with his smile. “But I'm. . . taking this semester off.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah, so. . . as I was saying, Gaia gave me this room here, and I think she was just a little worried about. . . you know, freaking out your mother, so. . .”

“Gaia was
worried
about freaking out my mother?” That wasn't the Gaia Tatiana knew.

“I guess so.” Sam shrugged, dropping down on the bed. “So, that's what I'm doing here, but. . .” He tilted his head slightly. “How did you find me?”

Tatiana glanced over at the chair in the corner and saw the small blue cell phone lying on the cushion. “I heard your phone ringing.”

Sam slapped his hand over his head, scolding himself. “I left the ringer on? How could I be so stupid? I left the ringer on and I had the music blasting and—
wait
—” His head suddenly snapped over to the chair. “The phone was ringing?”

He leapt off the bed and grabbed the phone, slapping his finger down on a few buttons as he stared intensely at the display. He pressed a button and held the phone tightly to his ear, clearly waiting with anticipation for an answer. But he got no answer. A few more long seconds and he threw the phone back at the chair, not even hiding his extreme frustration.

“
Gaia,
” he muttered angrily, staring at the phone. He looked back up and saw that Tatiana had been observing his behavior almost scientifically for the past minute. He dropped the anxious frown from his face and quickly composed himself. “I guess she turned off her phone,” he said with a forced smile. But there was no point in the smile. Tatiana had already seen everything she needed to see.

Sam was no threat to her.
Sam was just a man in love.

And slowly Tatiana began to remember bits and pieces of a conversation she and Gaia had shared late one night in their bedroom. A conversation about a boy named Sam.

She stepped over to the bed and sat down, making herself comfortable as Sam stood awkwardly by the chair.

“You know,” she said with a slight smile, “now that I think about it, I remember Gaia telling me about a boyfriend she once had named Sam. Are you Sam, the ex-boyfriend?”

Sam straightened up slightly as he forced another
slight laugh. “Not exactly,” he said. “That's. . . that's another long story.”

“Oh, you
have
to tell me.” Tatiana laughed. “Gaia never tells me
anything
. Especially about boys.”

“No,” Sam smiled. “There's really nothing to tell.”

“Oh,
please
. I have so many questions.”

“No, like I said. It's just a long—”

“I
like
long stories. Besides, who knows how long Gaia's going to be out on her date with Ed? It could be
hours
.” She leaned forward, almost as if she were sharing a secret with Sam. “Sometimes. . . she doesn't even come home at all.”

The smile instantly dropped off Sam's face. For a moment he looked like he'd just been shot in the back. He collapsed into the chair with a thud and locked his cheerless eyes with Tatiana's. “Okay,” he uttered in a near monotone. “What do you want to know?”

Hateful Glare

“THIS ISN'T GOING TO WORK.”

Gaia was standing at the table, looking down at Ed. She'd called on her least-favorite skill in the world—the unique talent that she was most ashamed of—her near superhuman ability to turn her heart to stone.

She'd been left with no other choice but this—to watch Ed's face turn as stone-cold as her own. To rip down the pathetic remains of the night and eat the consequences later. Because after fifteen rings of a phone flying out into blank space, Sam had disappeared again. He'd vanished into that same phantom zone where her father now resided, and that had finally gotten the better of her. All that potential death had to take precedent over Ed's increasingly unforgiving eyes.

“What's not going to work?” Ed asked coldly.

“This date, Ed. There are just too many things going on right now, and I can't—”

“Right. Good night.” Ed turned down to his plate of paella and began to eat it robotically. Gaia's chest began to sting.

“Ed, please don't—”

“Don't what?” he asked matter-of-factly. “Don't eat? I'm at a restaurant.”

“Don't talk to me like that, okay? I
tried
to make this work. You have
no idea
how hard I tried.”

“Oh God,
thank you
,” Ed snapped with a wide, disturbing grin. He stood up out of his chair to face Gaia head-on. It seemed they were doomed to be the spectacle of the evening. “Thank you so much for
trying
to go out on a date with me.”

“That's not what I meant.” Her teeth were clenched so hard, she was sure she could feel them crumbling
away. Candlelight kept flickering under Ed's eyes, revealing a more and more
hateful glare
with each indiscernible flash.

“No? What
did
you mean?” He tilted his head with sarcastic interest.

“Don't do this, Ed.” She couldn't even tell if she was begging him or threatening him. What would she even be threatening him with? “Look, there are things going on with my father—”

“Well, thank you so much for
trusting
me with that highly sensitive information. Thank you for everything. I had a lovely evening. Don't forget your cheese on the way out.” Ed dropped back into his chair and began to eat again.

Gaia searched herself for some way to put Ed in his place, but the more she thought about it, the less righteous anger she could muster. And the guilt took over. Of all the emotions she'd felt this evening, the guilt was the only one she'd be taking home.

She dropped back down into her chair and grabbed his hand. “I'm so sorry, Ed. I am
so
sorry. I know how important this date is, I know. I would do anything not to ruin it. But. . . it's ruined. It was ruined before we got here. Just please don't. . . You look so. . . It's just one night, Ed. Just one night is ruined, okay?” Silence came from the other side of the table.
“Okay?”
she repeated.

He wouldn't respond.

Pulling Teeth

ED DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. HE
wanted to squeeze out another obnoxious retort, another
vengeful little jab
just to stake out another inch of personal territory. But he couldn't. Not with her eyes so wide with guilt.

He couldn't have done it, anyway. He didn't have endless piles of
emotional ammunition
stockpiled and ready to fire. He'd already shot his wad with a few cold stares and some sarcasm.

Now he was just Ed again.
Ed Fargo, complete sucker in love.
Now he was stuck in her eyes again. And glued to the candlelight that glowed on her cheeks. And tangled up in the tousled waves of her hair. And so it would always be. . . .

“If you have to go, then you have to go,” he said. “Don't make me feel like any more of a loser than I already do.”

“No,
I'm
the loser,” Gaia insisted.

“Mr. and Mrs. Loser.” He sighed.

“Oh, you're proposing now?”

“Would you say yes?”

Gaia's entire face froze. Now Ed knew for sure that they were drifting apart. She couldn't even tell when he was kidding anymore. Which, of course, he was. Mostly. No, of course he was kidding. Mostly. . .

“
Kidding,
Gaia,” he groaned. “Just kidding.”

“I
know,
” she scoffed. Ed could see her start to breathe again. “I know that.”

He gripped her hand tightly and leaned closer. “Gaia. . . if something has happened to your dad,
tell
me what it is.”

She looked deeper into his eyes, barely blinking for the next few seconds as she seemed to consider his demand.

“I don't know what it is,” she stated.

“What? What does that mean?”

Gaia suddenly pulled her hand away, leaning back awkwardly against her seat. “Look, he's. . . he's been transferred out of the hospital, and we're. . . they're not sure where he is.”

Ed's eyes widened with disbelief. “The hospital
lost
him?” He didn't doubt Gaia; it was just the most ludicrous thing he'd ever heard.

“They just. . .” Gaia looked more and more anxious to make a run for it. Ed could see her eyes darting yearningly toward the staircase that led to the exit. He couldn't believe, after everything they'd been through, that getting the truth from her about her struggles was still like
pulling teeth
. “I just need to find him,” she concluded. “That's all.”

Ed's stomach twisted itself into a knot. He couldn't fathom how she could have gone all this time without telling him something this massive. “Well, I'll help you find him,” he insisted. “Jesus, we've been sitting here
having dinner and you don't
know
where your father is? Why didn't you just tell me? We could have been looking for him this entire time. We could have been suing the
crap
out of that hospital. God, I hate hospitals. We should be making calls, we should be calling every goddamn hospital in—”

“Ed,
no
!” Gaia snapped, slapping her hand down on the table.

Ed went silent. He had no idea what to make of her sudden outburst. Every time she opened her mouth, she seemed to make less and less sense. “Gaia. . . what the hell is the matter with y—?”

“Ed, I love you, but you are
out
of all of this, do you understand?” She lowered her voice to an
intensely urgent Whisper.
“I
won't
drag you back into it, do you hear? Not
any
of it.” Ed could only sit and watch as tears began to well up in her eyes. She gripped the table tightly as her words became more and more frenzied. “I don't want you to be my trusty sidekick, or my knight in shining armor, or the dead body lying on top of
my
dead body in some tragically romantic Romeo and Juliet
death
scene. I just want you to be my
boyfriend.
My boyfriend who is
alive
and. . . and safe and. . .
here
. Do you understand? I need to do it alone so that when it's done, when it's finally
finished
. . . I can come home to you.”

Ed could see a thousand different thoughts tugging away at her mouth for airtime. This had to be more
honesty than she had ever spewed out in one sitting, and Ed could tell from the look on her face that it hurt. It was physically painful for Gaia to talk like this.

“Gaia, it's all right,” Ed promised her. “I understand, okay? I do. You don't have to be so—”

“I have to go now,” she interrupted, swiping the tears too forcefully from her eyes as she stood up out of her chair.

“Gaia, wait,” he said gently, standing with her. “Don't go yet. Let me—”

“No, I have to go. I'm sorry. I'm. . . I'm so sorry, Ed. I'm sorry for ruining the date and for lying, and for—”

“Lying? When were you lying?”

She cast her glassy-eyed gaze on him one last time. “I'm sorry for everything,” she said. “I'll explain it all to you soon, Ed. So soon, I swear. When it's safe. Just don't give up on me, okay?” She leaned in closer and pressed her lips firmly against his.

She was three feet behind him before he could even kiss her back. She was on the stairs before he could say another word. And she'd disappeared from sight before he could form any understanding of
what the hell had just happened.

From:
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To:
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cc:
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Time:
9:58
P.M.

Re:
the party

Love it! Love love love it.

Parchment book sounds beautiful. (I love Kate's. I go there all the time for cards and calendars.) And I'm lovin' the black and white balloons.

Can't wait to see your other decoration ideas. Are you a pro or something? We should totally start a party-planning business. My mom and her partner started when they were sixteen. Can you believe that?

But enough of my yakkin'. Love white roses, too. We are going to make Heather so proud. And party so hard!

Tammie and I printed out awesome invitations on her printer. Card stock, silver on black. (Does that go with the balloons? Oh, hell, yes—we totally think alike.) We'll give you a bunch tomorrow to hand out. I'm pretty sure you'll approve. See you at the caf?