Wired (16 page)

Gaia didn't really see as how waiting an hour or so to return Jake's phone call really qualified as asserting her independence, but she nodded nonetheless. She really didn't have the energy—or even the conviction, to be perfectly honest—to argue with Skyler on the matter.

A slim, wiry waitress hopped up on caffeine topped off their coffee. Gaia lifted her mug and blew on the steam that rose from within it. She sipped gingerly, wary of the heat but relishing the bitter taste as it slid down her throat.

“Gaia,” Skyler began, moving on to new topics now that the matter of the phone call had been resolved, “can I ask what you were doing picking a fight? Since I know this wasn't a onetime thing, that is. I mean, why would you do that? Continuously put yourself in danger?”

Gaia tensed. At the Village School her classmates knew she was different. They knew she was abrasive and sartorially challenged, smart but often absent, and frequently sporting multiple bruises. They knew she preferred wash ‘n' wear and wasn't openly friendly. They knew she kicked ass in karate. But only a handful were aware of what was almost a double life, of her patrols in the park and her constant vigilance, her need to be on the lookout at all times. It wasn't something she liked to draw attention to or share. High school was hard enough for those who didn't have just the right sneakers—which usually included Gaia—and she wasn't eager to go out of her way to point out her key differences from other, normal teenagers.

But Skyler seemed so genuinely concerned that Gaia felt guilty automatically deflecting his question. She didn't know if it was their age difference or just something intrinsic to his personality, but Skyler's interest in her felt unique. Not like that of Jake, who obviously viewed Gaia as a challenge—albeit one that he seemed to find attractive—or Ed, who was a glutton for punishment in the form of unrequited love. Skyler's attention felt so uncommon to Gaia that, much to her surprise, she found herself weighing the possibility of being honest with him, which was a refreshing impulse.

The truth—”My father is a CIA agent whose twin brother went rogue and killed my mother; now we're constantly on the defensive, and meanwhile, my self-prod aimed reformed uncle believes he is my sole protector”—was out of the question. But certainly there was a variation thereof that she could cobble together; not quite a lie if not the entire truth. She paused, collecting her thoughts, before proceeding with a plausible version of the facts.

“Well, to tell you the truth—and this isn't something I usually go around sharing…”

Skyler ran his pinched fingers and thumb across his lips in a my-lips-are-sealed gesture that was almost comical.

“Basically, my father works for the CIA.”

Skyler did a spit-take with his coffee. This time Gaia had to laugh. She knew how absurd it sounded: “My father works for the CIA” was like a lie a young child would tel1 in the school yard in a misguided effort to impress his or her friends. Too bad it was actually her life.

“I know, I know—it sounds totally whacked out, but I swear, it's the truth,” she protested. “Why would I make this stuff up?”

Skyler nodded. “Good point. I can't think of one good reason why you would. Carry on.” He gestured
grandly, sweeping his hand across the table, tears of laughter still gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“Anyway, because he was Joe CIA, he was obviously trained in all sorts of martial arts and stuff, and I guess he basically felt that everyone—or at least, everyone that he was close to—should be trained in that sort of stuff, too. You know, so we could protect ourselves and whatever. So for as long as I can remember, we'd practice. I'm talking hours, every day. Mostly after school, but sometimes before school, too. Really hard core, especially for such a small kid.”

“I can imagine,” Skyler said, his voice tinged with disbelief and admiration.

“So now, you know, I can pretty much take care of myself in a fight. So, I mean, I'm not so much
looking
for trouble, but… I guess, it being New York City and all, I find it pretty easily. And if I see something sketchy going down, it's really hard for me not to step in and take care of it. Just because… well, just because I can.”

“Wow,” Skyler said softly, without any trace of sarcasm. “I stand by my words in the bathroom. You really
are
amazing.”

“Well,” Gaia hedged, uncomfortable to be the center of his attention. “I don't know about that. I think most people, in the same situation, might behave in the exact same way. Or at least, I like to think so.”

“You give the human animal far too much credit,”
Skyler said rather cynically. “But thankfully people like you balance out the equation.”

“Anyway, the thing is, maybe it's a postadrenaline reaction or something, but after a big fight I'm really wiped. Sometimes I pass out, and I usually can't control it. So I try to be careful, you know, so I don't end up unconscious in the park, but you can't always help that. Like today. Waking up unconscious really freaked me out.”

“I'm sure. Don't you get scared?” Skyler asked, openly curious.

Gaia laughed a short, bitter laugh. There was truth, and then there was science fiction hour. Telling Skyler about her genetic makeup was asking for more than the typical suspension of disbelief, and she'd had more than enough honesty for one afternoon. “Not usually,” she said simply.

It certainly wasn't a lie.

When had he become such a massive
loser?

It's
been a long time since I allowed myself to depend on anyone. A
really
long time.

Basically I've been on my own ever since my mother died. My father split pretty soon after that happened—and I
know
, the had to, but still… it's hard to accept. I mean, I was
twelve
, for chrissake. I was twelve and I had just lost my mother. How mature were people really expecting me to be? Even today it's hard for me to deal with the fact that my father can't really be around, but at twelve? It was a damn near impossibility.

So. No mother and no father. The few friends that I did manage to make were hunted like animals by the man who wears my father's face. Some were killed. Some were
presumed
killed, only to turn up later, unable to deal with being part of my life (what with the constant danger and all. People are so touchy). My foster parents? Oh, yeah, double agents who
again tried to have me killed. Mind you, my foster mother redeemed herself in the penultimate hour. And what happened to her, again… ? Oh, that's right. Killed.

It's not all bad all the time. But my best friend, Ed, has moved on to greener pastures, to a girlfriend—well, a girl
friend
—who knows how to dress, how to be social, how to have fun… in other words, the opposite of me. My new boyfriend will very shortly be my ex-boyfriend if we continue on our current path. It's no secret that I'm on his last nerve. The FOHs have no interest in my fashion victim bull… and for some reason, this actually bothers me. I hate to admit it, but it does. My uncle is stalking me, determined that I shouldn't have even a day of believing that maybe I'm safe, and, of course, Dad's away again, God knows where.

If it's Tuesday, I've got no one but myself to depend on.

So yeah, I learned to be self-sufficient, because leaning on people who aren't actually there can be pretty difficult. I had a crash course in independence, even though I never asked for it.

But Skyler Rodke is unlike anyone I've ever known. For starters, whenever he's around, the air suddenly feels charged with thousands of tiny electrons. I don't know how or why, and I do know that I might even gag myself with the cheese I am currently spouting, but it's the truth. When he walks into the room, I freeze. It's a total chemical reaction that is utterly involuntary. It isn't going away.

And what's more, I don't want it to.

Even more unbelievable is the fact that for some reason, Skyler is interested in me. Really and truly. He wants to know all about me, why I behave the way I do, and what makes me tick. He doesn't think I'm weird for being so immune to fear (well, at
least, once upon a time)—he thinks it's
cool
. Or so he says. And something about the way he says it makes me want to believe him.

I don't know why Skyler's taken an interest in me. I don't know what makes him different than other people, what makes him intrigued instead of freaked out by me. But I like it. I like the way he looks at me. He gets this expression, this sort of awe and compassion mixed with protection. Like if I let him, he'd look out for me. He'd let me lean on him. If I let him.

It may be out of character, the idea of letting someone support me.

But it's an awfully appealing notion.

SKYLER'S APARTMENT WAS JUST OFF Broadway on 118th Street. The block was well lit but not well populated this evening. “Is it safe here at night?” Gaia asked nervously, eyeing a trail of litter that snaked from the gutter along the sidewalk. She'd had more than her share of excitement for the day.

“Are you kidding? I've got my own personal bodyguard,” Skyler teased, punching Gaia's arm playfully.

Gaia laughed, but her discomfort was apparent. “Hey,” Skyler said, his voice taking a somber tone. “Seriously. We're totally safe. True, the blocks that don't house dorms or university buildings look a little neglected, but there's enough security in the area to stave off an army. I mean, can you imagine the scandal if a student was injured or robbed? The university would do anything to prevent that.” He wrapped an arm around her soothingly and gave her shoulders a quick, reassuring squeeze.

Gaia found she couldn't argue with his logic. They stopped in front of a nondescript brownstone that had seen better days. Skyler fished out his keys and led the way up a staircase. He lived on the second floor of what was evidently a very dusty walk-up.

As Skyler opened the door to his apartment, Gaia was relieved to see that the unsavory atmosphere didn't extend to his living quarters. His apartment was small, but well laid out and cozy. It was immediately
apparent that he was getting help from his parents in paying the rent, but then again, given that he was a college student, it only made sense.

The apartment was a U-shaped two bedroom (though, as promised, the unknown roommate was indeed nowhere to be found) with a decent-sized kitchenette and a comfortable living room. An orange plaid sofa sat along the back wall, no doubt rescued from a recent grad or flea market. The bulk of the living area was dominated by an oversized coffee table overflowing with outdated copies of
FHM
and
Maxim
. Gaia crossed over to the table and picked one up, flipping through it, amused. “‘What's hot now,'” she read aloud. She tossed the magazine back onto the table. “Apparently Victoria's Secret models in various stages of undress are hot now,” she reported to Skyler archly “Who knew?”

Skyler chuckled. “What can I say? I'm a bachelor. Sue me if I like hot chicks. Besides,” he defended himself, “it's my roommate's subscription.”

Gaia laughed herself, pleased to find that stepping into Skyler's apartment
had
made her feel instantly relaxed. “Sure, it is,” she teased. She was glad she had allowed him to persuade her to come uptown. “A bachelor, huh?” she asked, quickly stepping over to the small kitchen area. “We'll see.” She grabbed at the refrigerator door handle, daring Skyler to stop her.

“Oh, hey, not the fridge—,” he protested, darting
behind her and wrestling her away from the door. It swung open to reveal barren shelves but for one sad carton of leftover Chinese food sitting by itself.

“Oh, no,” Gaia chided, shaking her head ruefully. “Not even milk.”

“But hey—no beer. So that, at least, rescues me from being a
total
cliché, right?” Skyler pointed out.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Gaia was suddenly acutely aware of the space between her and Skyler. Or rather, the distinct lack thereof. He had wrapped himself around her to pull her away from the refrigerator, but he still hadn't let go. His arms were tight around her waist, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. The air felt thick and close, and Gaia barely dared inhale. She wasn't quite sure what was going on… but whatever it was, she wasn't going to be the one to break the trance.

A shrill jingling suddenly sounded, shocking Gaia and Skyler out of the moment. Her cell phone…
Damn
, Gaia thought fleetingly, then paused to reflect on how unpleasant it was to be snapped back to reality. She reached into her bag—thankfully the phone was on top by now—and saw that again, it was Jake.

In a flash Skyler's arms were circling her, creating a heat and texture to the atmosphere that was indefinable but impossible to ignore. He pulled the cell phone from her hands, and she allowed him to. He turned it
off and placed it on the small fold-out table. Reaching for Gaia's shoulders, he spun her around so that she faced him. They locked eyes.

“Gaia, didn't we say you were going to rest?” he asked, his voice low and hypnotic.

“Yes,” she answered shortly. Her mouth felt dry. Any thoughts she'd had of Jake and wanting to speak with him were instantly banished.

“You don't mind being cut off from the world for a few hours, do you? Isn't it more fun this way?” He looked at her expectantly.

“Yeah,” Gaia mumbled, exhausted and all too willing to give into Skyler's suggestions. He seemed to know what was best for her.

“Fun.”

JAKE GLARED AT THE SCREEN OF HIS cell phone as if it were poison Frustrated, he thrust it back into his pocket and shivered. The produce section at Citarella was packed bumper-to-bumper with shoppers, which was unexpected at this late hour. He was picking up a few items as a favor to
his father. He wasn't much in the mood for shopping, but it was better than sitting around his apartment, stewing about Gaia.