Fake

by Francine Pascal

  “But you could have really hurt him!”

  Zan and her pal exchanged fake-astonished looks and burst out laughing again. “That’s the whole point!” Zan cried. “We don’t care! Besides, I’m so incredibly focused, there’s no way I could hurt him.”

  Gaia stared at her. Zan’s pupils were so dilated, her eyes appeared black instead of their usual blue. That plus the excited sizzle in her voice all pointed to one obvious fact: she was flying on Invince. Her guy friend, too.

  But as Gaia peered into her eyes, she noticed something else. Something familiar—the very same thing that had been missing from her own reflection the last time she’d studied it.

  She sat on Zan’s bed, the knife still tight in her fist. “Hey, Zan? Tell me something. What does it feel like when you’re on Invince?”

  A glorious, all-out smile conquered Zan’s face. “Amazing!” she breathed.

  The guy nodded in blissed-out agreement.

  “Yeah, but can you describe it? I mean, what exactly does it do to you?”

  Zan fell back onto her braided oval rug and gazed beatifically at the ceiling. “It’s like . . . I feel completely relaxed, yet powerful, too. Like nothing in the world can scare me.”

  Gaia raised her eyebrows. “Really? Nothing at all?”

  “Not a thing. Never, ever, ever.”

  Hmmm, Gaia thought. Interesting . . .

  “Why? You want us to hook you up?”

  “No, thanks,” she said, standing. She snapped the switchblade shut and tossed it onto the snarl of blankets atop Zan’s unmade bed. “I don’t think I’ll be needing it.”

  From: dboy@shoalcreek.net

  To: gaial3@alloymail.com

  Subject: re: Be careful!

  Gaia,

  Your letter was full of clouds. Glorious Gaia in the dark city. Don’t let the black come in. Stay in the yellow. Stay in the bright!

  normal abnormalness

  Just to be safe, he kept his eye on the teapot, ready to duck in case it came hurtling toward him.

  Too Surreal

  JAKE STOOD OUTSIDE OLIVER’S apartment and listened as the footsteps grew louder and louder. Soon he heard the rattling of locks and the dull clunk of a dead bolt shifting backward. He held his breath as the knob turned and the steel door slowly swung open. He really, really dreaded this moment.

  “Jake.” Oliver stood before him, his deep-set blue eyes warm and welcoming. Jake could barely meet them. He didn’t deserve their warmth. “Come in. I was just having some tea. Please, join me.” Oliver pulled the door wider and gestured for him to enter the apartment.

  “Thanks.” Jake ambled across the threshold. His fists were shoved deep in his jacket pockets, making him shuffle forward as if handcuffed.

  Jake took his usual seat in the leather armchair and gazed up at the pressed-tile ceiling. Meanwhile Oliver puttered about in the galley kitchen, pouring drinks. Jake knew the man was just being a considerate host, but he couldn’t help resenting the suspense it created. He just wanted to get this over with—just take his licking and get out.

  “Here you are.” Oliver stood over him, holding a tray. Jake sat up and watched as Oliver set out two cups of tea, milk, sugar cubes, spoons, and two small dishes of pain au chocolate. “So, tell me about Gaia,” Oliver said offhandedly, carefully spooning sugar into his cup.

  Jake marveled at his everyday tone of voice, as if they were just two associates, having tea, chatting about the day’s events. He was also grateful he was too occupied to meet Oliver’s gaze.

  “I saw her,” Jake said, beginning with the good news.

  Oliver looked up, his spoon pausing in midstir. “You did? When?”

  “Tonight. I broke into her room at the boardinghouse and hid until she came home.” He paused, waiting to see if Oliver would commend him for this ingenious course of action. He didn’t. “It was just before curfew when she arrived, and she wasn’t very happy to see me.”

  “What happened? How did she look?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. She seemed really strange.”

  “Strange? How?”

  “She just . . . wasn’t herself. She was really mad at me for hiding out and accused me of not caring about her, saying she never got any of my messages. Then I tried to warn her about Skyler Rodke and she lost it.”

  Oliver sat far forward, his elbows propped on his knees. “Be more specific, Jake. What did she say exactly?”

  “She said I was only trying to play mind games with her. She said Skyler was wonderful and perfect, and how dare I accuse him of anything bad. Apparently the guy’s even taking her to prom.” He paused, hanging his head slightly. “Then she broke up with me and threatened to scream for Suko if I didn’t leave.”

  Jake sat miserably for a few minutes, staring at a worn spot on his jeans. At any moment Oliver would unleash his wrath, accuse him of pushing his niece into further danger. He’d say that he regretted ever trusting him and that he and Gaia were both better off with Jake not in their lives. Then he’d dump tea on him and kick him back out onto the street.

  But there was nothing but silence. After a moment Jake risked glancing up.

  To his utter amazement, Oliver was smiling. He was rubbing his chin in a far-off, thoughtful way as he stared over Jake’s shoulder out the window.

  Eventually his eyes snapped back onto Jake’s. “You’ve done a good job,” he said. “Thank you.”

  Jake sat there, speechless, wondering if Oliver had misconstrued everything he’d told him. Just to be safe, he kept his eye on the teapot, ready to duck in case it came hurtling toward him. “You—you’re not . . . I mean . . . I expected you to be mad.”

  Oliver smiled. “I too have had emotional run-ins with Gaia. I know how difficult she can be,” he said, his voice soothingly sympathetic. “I’m sorry my niece was so harsh with you. But whatever you do, don’t give up on her. In spite of everything she said, she still needs you, Jake. Now more than ever.”

  “All right,” Jake mumbled, nodding distractedly. This was too surreal. He’d expected anger, disappointment, possibly even tears. Instead Oliver was giving him a medal and sending him back into battle? Obviously his brain was way too feeble to comprehend the workings of this great man’s mind.

  Oliver stood abruptly, signaling the end of the conversation, and Jake followed suit. “Please keep in touch,” Oliver said, clapping him on the back and steering him toward the door. “Keep close tabs on Gaia, and if you see or hear anything unusual—anything at all—contact me immediately.”

  “All right,” Jake said again, his head bobbing in small, circular motions. Oliver clapped him on the back in a good-buddy type of gesture that also managed to propel him back into the corridor.

  “Remember what I said,” Oliver urged from the doorway. “No matter what, don’t give up on her.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good. Good night, Jake,” he said, and closed the door.

  Jake stood in the long, echoey hallway, staring down at the stained concrete floor. I’ll never give up on her, Oliver, he uttered silently. But I’m not sure what good it’ll do.

  Because Gaia has most definitely given up on me.

  LOKI

  I have made a mistake.

  It seems I have underestimated this Skyler Rodke. I’m not proud of it. It was a crucial error-possibly even a costly one. But luckily I still have time to rectify it.

  You see, I had assumed that Rodke was like other opportunistic thugs. I figured he saw a prize for the taking and took it, using the typically crude tactics a second-rate criminal would use. Namely threats, intimidation, deception, abduction, and primitive physical violence. But now I find this is not the case. Instead he has resorted to such psychological trickery one would expect from . . . well, from me, to be precise.

  The boy obviously recognizes what a divine gift Gaia is, and he knows that a prize like that must be handled carefully. He’s found her greatest (and possibly only) weakness: her loneliness. And somehow he’
s already managed to win her confidence.

  But there are risks to getting too close to one’s prey.

  Little does the boy know what he’s dealing with. Gaia is mine. We share blood and a common destiny. She has been rebelling against this obvious truth—normal for a teenager—but the facts still remain. I know things about her that he does not. I have connections to her past, present, and future at my disposal. And most of all, I have patience.

  This line of attack he’s using will soon self-destruct on its own. Because worse than threatening Gaia, worse than abducting her, even worse than attacking her is to gain her trust and then betray her.

  And the consequences of that mistake will be something worth waiting for.

  Her Own Obi–wan Kenobi

  THERE IT WAS. STARING HER RIGHT in the face.

  Gaia was once again examining her reflection, this time in front of her dresser mirror at the boardinghouse. And this time she saw what had been missing the day before at Skyler’s.

  It was an indefinable quality behind the eyes—a sort of deep-set steadiness or unflinching calm. Zan had a version of that look whenever she was flying on Invince. Gaia had recognized it just now in the rock-steady way Zan stared back at her. Never wavering, never pulling back for comfort’s sake. Guess it took fearlessness to know fearlessness.

  Of course, Gaia’s eyes also had that saggy, no-sleep, just-clobbered-a-whole-basketball-team quality to them. She really should get some rest before going to school tomorrow. Otherwise she’d be dead by the time she met up with Skyler.

  Skyler . . .

  Gaia frowned at her mirror image. She was really spending a lot of time with him lately. Why was that? Sure, he was incredibly nice to her, but was there more to it? Did she truly like the guy? Her image frowned back, unflinching but thoroughly confused.

  She turned away and plopped onto the end of her bed. Maybe she could figure it out logically. Let’s see . . . Skyler was kind, good-looking, and incredibly classy. All big pluses. He’d helped her out of half a dozen scrapes, fed her, bathed her, cheered her up, and, not counting that big kiss, never once taken advantage of her. Again all good. So why was she confused about the way she felt for him?

  Because it wasn’t logical. While her rational side ticked off all his good points, her instincts told her something vital was missing. She enjoyed being with Skyler, but it came nowhere near the warmth she felt for Ed, or the flutters she had for Sam, or even the kinship she shared with Jake. And no math in the world could solve that.

  All right, then. So why had she had that grand mal meltdown with Jake earlier? Why had she practically tossed him out the window for saying Skyler was up to something?

  Of course she had been mad at Jake. He’d been a monumental jerk for not calling and for buddying up with her evil, nutcase uncle. But her little drama had more to do with Skyler. It was as if she couldn’t stand to hear anything bad about him. From anyone. Ever.

  Gaia stretched out on her yellow chenille bedspread and stared at the faint gray stains on the ceiling. She was becoming rather dependent on Skyler. It was nice, really. Sort of like having her own Obi-wan Kenobi. But could it be she was becoming a bit too slobbery and all-consumed by the guy? Why was she fighting to maintain this half-god image of him? And perhaps even more curious—why was he, a gorgeous and magnetic college student, for goodness sake, so hell-bent on spending all his free time with her?

  Yes. The more she thought of it, the more troubling it became. Was Skyler truly as devoted to her as it seemed, or did he, like so many others before him, just want a piece of her? Did he merely see a part of himself in her as he claimed, or was he taking advantage of her frail condition? There was only one way to find out the answer. Gaia would have to continue behaving as the fearful ball of nerves she’d been, and study his behavior. She couldn’t risk reverting back to her old self. Because whatever it was Skyler might have been looking for, Gaia had a hunch he wanted it from Fearful Gaia. Not Fearless Gaia.

  A knock sounded and the door swung halfway open. “Gaia? Are you still awake?” Suko stood in the doorway, wearing a red silk housecoat. Her black hair, free of its usual bun, tumbled gracefully about her shoulders, making her look more feminine and beautiful than Gaia had ever seen her.

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I just had some last-minute studying. I’m turning in right now.” She hopped off the bed and began busily peeling back the covers and fluffing pillows.

  “Wait, please, Gaia. There is something I wish to speak to you about.”

  Uh-oh. Did she know she’d snuck out? Had she seen her little trapeze act outside? “Sure. What is it?”

  “It is about this . . . friend of yours. The tall, dark-haired one. Jake is his name?”

  “Yeah. That’s right. Jake.” Again uh-oh. Did she know Jake had been in her room that evening?

  “Could you please tell him not to call and come by so many times?”

  Gaia’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? When did he do all this?”

  “He called many times and he came by at least twice this weekend. This morning after you left and also yesterday afternoon. I saw him on the porch, talking with Zan. Did she not tell you?”

  “No. But . . . I haven’t really spoken with her much this weekend.”

  “He seemed quite upset to find you gone. He could not understand why you did not answer his messages on your cell phone.”

  Gaia scowled at the floor. So he was telling the truth? He really did check up on me? Something must be wrong with her phone. Either that or—

  “Gaia?”

  She glanced back up at Suko. “Yes?”

  “Tell him please to not bother us so much. And please try to keep people informed of your whereabouts. I am not a secretary for you girls.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  Suko nodded appreciatively and then quietly shut the door. Gaia could barely hear her soft footsteps padding back to her room.

  Gaia felt oddly disoriented, as if everything in the world had been yanked three feet to the left. Her fear had completely vanished—she was back to her normal abnormalness. But for some reason, nothing else seemed the same.

  SKYLER

  I have never been what you’d call religious. In fact, I was often criticized for being somewhat flippant about the whole supreme deity hard sell.

  Once when we were kids, Aunt Agatha took me, Chris, and Liz to her Evangel Temple. We sat in the back and watched as a man stood in front of the assembled congregation, ranting and shouting and shaking this large black Bible. After a while people started getting really worked up. Some cried. Some yelled out hallelujahs. And quite a few of them closed their eyes and lifted up their arms. Chris leaned over to me and said, “How come they have their hands up like that?” and I whispered, “Better reception.”

  Aunt Agatha sent us out to the car for disturbing God with our giggling.

  Lately, I have to say, I’ve been feeling almost religious about my life. Things are going so beautifully with Gaia, all according to plan. I’ve managed to discredit her lunkhead boyfriend and her stupid, petty friends. I even have her starting to doubt her own father—plenty of time to finish that up while he’s away saving the world.

  Before long I’ll have her completely dependent on me. She won’t know what to think or eat or even when to breathe without consulting with me first. And the beauty of it is, she’ll never even consider crossing me, because to do so would make her utterly helpless.

  Eventually she’ll be programmed to respond to me and me alone. And once someone thinks of you as their salvation, nothing will tear them away. Think of a mighty stallion. Even he won’t run from his stable when it’s on fire.

  There’s something intrinsically mythic about this whole thing. It’s even evident in our names. She is Gaia, which means the earth, and I am Skyler, the heavens. She is raw, chaotic power and I am her conduit. Together we are a combined force of nature too intense for regular society.

  I can’t help but think there’s some divine d
estiny at work here. As if my brilliant plan is only a subset of a larger, celestial scheme—something grander than even I can imagine. Could my coming together with Gaia have been scripted by our Lord?

  Gaia is mine. More than that, Gaia is me. Raise up your arms and feel our power. Amen.

  carnival-like vibe

  It was like she’d fallen into a classic horror story. Everywhere she went, she was haunted by the ghosts of boyfriends past.

  Irrational Extremist

  OF COURSE JAKE WOULD BE THE first person Gaia spied when she entered school the next morning. It was par for the course in the whole ironic game of life. You forget your umbrella, so a thunderstorm hits as you walk home. You get in the fast-moving grocery line, so some little old lady in front of you tries to pay with pennies. You try to avoid someone you’re feeling monumentally confused about, so you end up nose to nose with them the minute you enter neutral territory.

  She should have expected it. After all, she couldn’t exactly dive into broom closets all day whenever he came near. But what she could never have prepared herself for was how utterly pitiful he looked.

  Seeing him there, leaning against the obnoxious tile mosaic of the school seal, she was instantly reminded of those wax figures in Madame Tussauds. His skin was so sickly pale, it seemed almost translucent. His dark tresses looked sadly wilted. And each eye had a dark crevice beneath it, as if someone had forcibly pushed the eyeballs farther back into their sockets.

  But more than that, there was just so little life emanating from him. He hardly moved, and he barely seemed to notice his surroundings. It was as if he’d been propped carelessly against the wall and forgotten about. If he hadn’t straightened up the moment he saw her, she probably would have gone over and taken his pulse.

  “Hey,” he said, walking toward her.

  Gaia hesitated slightly, then adjusted her trajectory to meet him. “Hey,” she said back, her eyes instinctively searching for a broom closet.

  She really hoped he wouldn’t rope her into a conversation about her weekend hysterics. How could she enlighten him any if she still couldn’t fathom it all herself?