Rebel Page 5

  No Words Necessary

  "What are you doing here?" he cried.

  "I called you at home to wish you a merry Christmas," she said. She took a deep breath and gently extricated herself from Sam's arms, brushing a few strands of long, dark hair out of her eyes. "Your parents told me that you came back early. I figured you'd be here. I thought I'd surprise you."

  "I'm glad you did," he murmured.

  She stared into his eyes. Ever since their troubles started, it seemed the best response she could get out of him was a strained smile and faraway look. But now she saw something new. Or something old, really. Focus. He was entirely here. With her. In the moment. Just like when they first started going out all those months ago. It had been so long since he'd been able to gaze at her the way he was gazing at her now. Even when they had made love that one time, he'd seemed distant--as if his brain were disconnected and his body was on autopilot. And then when Gaia Moore walked in on them, it was clear that his mind had been elsewhere.

  But maybe he had finally gotten over her. The psycho. The bitch who had single-handedly nearly destroyed Heather's life. Of course, there was no

  point in thinking about Gaia right now. Wherever she was, she wasn't with them--and that was good enough.

  "So what are you doing out here in the cold?" she asked. "It's freezing."

  "Going to look for you," he answered.

  "Well, you found me," she whispered. He couldn't have given her a better reply if she had scripted it herself. Her pulse picked up a beat. She saw something else in his eyes, too. Desire. Yes. It had been a very long time since she'd seen that. For all of Heather's popularity and good looks, for all of her supposed confidence and charm, she knew she was very insecure at heart. A strange pain stirred in her stomach. That was probably why she'd allowed herself to end up in bed with Charlie Salita a couple of weeks ago. But there was no point in thinking about him, either. Or the fact that she still didn't know if he'd raped her....

  Sam bit his lip. "Heather, I--"

  "Let's not talk," she interrupted. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Let's just be together. We don't need to say anything. Not yet, anyway."

  He nodded.

  Without a word, he took her hand and led her back down Fifth Avenue to his dormitory.

  "HEY! GAIA! WAIT UP!"

  Training School for Badasses

  Mary's lungs were about to explode. There was no way she could keep chasing that girl. For one thing, Gaia was in superhuman shape. For another, Mary's own body was still rebounding from years of drug abuse. She wasn't exactly in marathon condition.

  "What's the matter?" Gaia taunted from the end of the block. "I'm not too fast for you, am I? Come on. How badly do you want your wallet back?"

  Go ahead and keep it, Mary wanted to answer. But all that came out of her mouth was a pathetic little gasp. She leaned against a lamppost, struggling to catch her breath. She sucked in huge gulps of freezing air. It felt like ice was tearing into her chest. She couldn't get enough oxygen. Whoa. She was actually kind of dizzy. Her head throbbed. Purplish dots swam before her eyes.

  "Mary?" Gaia called. Her tone suddenly became serious. "Are you all right?"

  Mary shook her head. No. All right would not be the phrase she'd use to describe herself right now. But in spite of the fact that she was mildly afraid of dropping dead, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

  This was so lame. Here she was, a seventeen-year-old girl, in the prime of her life--and she was legitimately worried about heart failure. Christ. But that was what she deserved, she supposed. It was amazing she hadn't dropped dead yet.

  On the plus side, all the running around had taken her mind off Skizz. Because there was a very good chance Skizz would be lurking around the shadows here somewhere, trying to sell his product. Or looking for her.

  Gaia ran back down the street. Her face was creased with concern. "Hey," she called. "What's the matter?"

  "Nothing, nothing," Mary mumbled. Gradually her dizziness faded. Her rattling pulse slowed. She straightened, using the metal pole to hoist herself up. "It's just ... ah, I guess I'm kind of winded. That's all. It'll pass."

  "Are you sure?" Gaia asked, peering into Mary's face.

  Mary nodded. She forced herself to forget about Skizz. "You know, I should have known better than to dare you to steal something valuable of mine," she muttered with a smirk. "It figures you'd be a great pickpocket."

  Gaia raised her eyebrows, pretending to be offended. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

  "It just goes along with your other talents," Mary

  said. Her breathing finally evened. "Did you, like, go to some special training school for badasses when you were a kid?"

  "Hey," Gaia protested, wagging a finger at her. "No truths, remember?"

  Mary rolled her eyes. "But that's just a question. It's not part of the--"

  "Uh-uh," Gaia interrupted. "Anyway, you can't ask me anything. It's your turn." She handed Mary's wallet back to her. "So what'll it be? Truth or dare?"

  "Well, I'm way too spent for a dare," Mary mumbled, shoving her wallet back into her inside coat pocket. How had Gaia managed to swipe it, anyway? But there was no point in asking herself that question. Gaia would never tell her. "I think you're gonna have to truth me."

  Gaia smiled. Her eyes sparkled in the pale light of the streetlamp. She glanced around the deserted street, tapping a gloved finger against her chin. "Hmmm. Let's see.... Let's see.... Okay, I got one. Truth: What's the worst-possible thing you could dare me to do?"

  Mary had to laugh. "You know, I'm starting to worry about you," she said. "Thanks to all the books I got for Christmas, I'm an expert at recognizing the symptoms of addiction. And you, my friend, are definitely a dare addict."

  "Who, me?" Gaia asked sarcastically. She shook her head. "Mary, that's not it at all. It's just that it's about

  minus fourteen degrees out here with the windchill factor, and I want to keep moving. Truths are way too inactive." She hopped up and down and rubbed the sleeves of her coat for dramatic effect. "So? What is it?"

  "What's what?"

  "What's the worst-possible thing you can dare me to do?" Gaia asked impatiently.

  Mary thought for a moment. Now that her cardiovascular system had reached a relative state of normalcy again, she was beginning to realize that Gaia was right: It was freezing out here. Whatever this dare was, it would have to involve warmth. And it would have to involve Mary, too. And maybe some more layers of clothing ...

  Aha. Yes. There was a simple way to satisfy all three needs.

  "You know, it occurs to me that a lot of NYU students live around here," Mary said, glancing up at the row houses on MacDougal Street. "And I bet they're all gone for the holidays. So here it is. I dare you to sneak into somebody's room and steal all their clothes."

  Gaia pursed her lips. "Mary," she said with a groan. "Come on. We shouldn't steal from people, you know? I feel bad enough about the subway thing--"

  "You can return the clothes tomorrow," Mary interrupted. "They'll never know the difference. And I'll come with you. That way if we get caught, we'll both share the blame."

  "Yeah, but ..." Gaia still didn't look convinced.

  "Hey," Mary said, shrugging nonchalantly. "You asked me what the worst dare is I could think of, and that's it. Go and steal somebody's clothes. And it's not even that bad. I mean, I'm coming with you." She grinned. "Now, does this mean the great Gaia Moore is wimping out on me? Does this mean I won the game?"

  "You wish," Gaia said. She started smiling again, too. "All right. So which dorm?"

  "Any one you want," Mary said. "There's a bunch over on Eleventh Street."

  All at once Gaia's smile vanished.

  "What is it?" Mary asked.

  "Uh ... nothing. I was just thinking that Sam Moon lives around here. He ... uh, he lives on that block. I could take his stuff."

  Mary hesitated. "Wait a sec. This wouldn't be an excuse to piss Heather off, would it?"

  Ga
ia laughed grimly and shook her head.

  "Well, okay," Mary answered uncertainly. She studied Gaia's face. Something strange was going on here. For the first time ever, Gaia did not look supremely confident. No. She looked ...well, sad. She was clearly hiding something. Not that this was anything new. But usually when somebody mentioned Heather's name, Gaia became angry--not sad. So ... this wasn't about Heather. This was about Sam. There obviously was some kind of history between Sam and Gaia.

  So ... maybe this would be a good way to find out what was going on. Maybe Mary could actually pry a truth out of Gaia without having to actually truth her. It was worth a shot.

  "Ready?" Gaia asked.

  "I'm ready if you are," Mary said.

  GAIA STILL WASN'T SURE EXACTLY WHY she'd decided to break into Sam's dorm. It was an undeniably stupid thing to do. But in a crazy way, she was actually sort of hoping that Sam would be there. Because then she'd finally get the answer to the question that had been gnawing at her sanity for a month: Did we kiss or not?

  The Answer

  And then she'd be able to get on with her life. For better or for worse.

  Getting past the security guard was no problem at all. Gaia had come up with a foolproof system for sneaking into Sam's dorm on Thanksgiving night. She'd tripped the guard's car alarm. The piercing siren was the only thing that could get the guy to leave his post. He always parked his car right outside the building-- probably so he could keep an eye on it.

  Sure enough, Gaia saw the car the instant she and Mary turned off Fifth Avenue onto West Eleventh Street. It was a fairly nondescript American sedan-- but the telltale sign was its ridiculous vanity plate: RANGERFAN.

  Why was it that all macho meatheads had sports-related vanity plates?

  "Stay back a sec," she instructed Mary.

  Mary paused on the sidewalk. Gaia crept along the side of the building and peered around the corner into the entranceway. There the guard was, sitting in the lobby, his pudgy face lit up with a bluish glow from the flickering light of the TV screen. She almost felt bad for him. Nobody should have to work on Christmas night. It was just too depressing.

  Oh, well. At least she would liven up his shift.

  Mary tiptoed up behind her. "What's going on?" she whispered.

  "We gotta get past the guard," Gaia whispered back.

  Ducking down, she scoured the ground for something to throw at the car.... Bingo. There was an empty forty-ounce bottle of malt liquor near the curb. She scuttled over and grabbed it, then ran back to Mary.

  "What are you gonna do?" Mary asked. Her forehead was wrinkled, but she was smiling. "You aren't gonna crack that over his head, are you?"

  "Please," Gaia moaned with a giggle. "I'm not into victimization, remember? All you have to do is follow me into the building as fast as you can. Ready?"

  "Uh ...I guess so...."

  Gaia hurled the bottle directly at the license plate. It spun end over end and smashed into the car just over the rear fender, exploding in a loud shatter. Almost instantaneously the car alarm erupted. The sound of the siren tore through the icy night.

  "Jesus!" Mary hissed. She bit her lip, trying to keep from laughing.

  Three seconds later the guard came bounding out the door.

  So predictable. Like clockwork. He ran right up to the rear fender and scowled at it, then glanced out onto the street--in the opposite direction of Gaia and Mary. Perfect. Gaia tapped Mary's shoulder and bolted into the lobby. The blast of heated, indoor air washed over her like an invisible tidal wave--sending much needed relief to her chilled bones. Mary followed close on her heels. Gaia pulled her into the stairwell.

  "What floor?" Mary whispered.

  "Fourth."

  Excitement fizzed in Gaia's veins as she hurried up the flights of stairs. She was barely conscious of Mary's wheezing behind her. A dozen disjointed memories

  swirled through her mind: sneaking into Sam's room and taking a shower ... the time she walked in on him and Heather in bed ... the dream of that wonderful kiss and his words in her ear: "I love you" ... she shook her head. Goose bumps rose on her arms.

  "This is it?" Mary whispered when they reached the fourth-floor landing.

  Gaia nodded.

  "Good," Mary said. "Because I'm about to pass out again."

  As quietly as she could, Gaia crept into the hall outside Sam's suite--then stopped in her tracks. The door was open. Was somebody there?

  "What is it?" Mary asked.

  Gaia shook her head. The faintest scrap of conversation drifted past her ears. It was completely unintelligible; she couldn't even tell if it was a boy or girl--but somebody was there. She took another two steps forward--

  "My God, Sam," a girl's voice whispered. "That was incredible...."

  Oh, no. Not her.

  Gaia's knees turned to jelly. The sound of that voice was like a sword, shredding her insides. Never before had she so longed to be someone else, in another place--a million light-years from this living hell.

  The voice belonged to Heather Gannis.

  Gaia was sure of it. There was no doubt in her

  mind. And in that instant she had her answer. Her throat tightened. Sam hadn't kissed her that night. He might have brought her to the hospital; he might have even bundled her up in his clothes--but that was it. Why had she come here? It was like déjà vu. She had walked in on the boy she loved most in the arms of the girl she hated most. She didn't even have to see them to know that they were together in bed. No, Heather's few husky words painted a perfectly clear picture. And there was nothing Gaia could do to stop them. Sam Moon didn't love her. He loved Heather Gannis. Period.

  "Gaia?" Mary whispered.

  She turned around, her lips trembling.

  Mary was still standing by the stairwell door. She looked very afraid.

  "I don't think I can do this," Gaia choked out. "I think I have to get out of here...."

  She was barely aware of Mary's leading her back down the stairs and into the freezing night. It was hard to see through the tears.

  bad debts

  Skizz chuckled. His laugh was very easygoing and friendly--which somehow only made it more terrifying. "Then we have a problem," he said.

  IF MARY COULD COUNT ON ONE THING in life, it was that Gaia Moore would end up okay. Gaia Moore would always find a way to survive, no matter how bad things got. So there was no point in worrying. Right?

  Call Number One ...

  Wrong, a silent voice answered.

  In the old days, Mary used to tune out that voice by doing a quick blast of coke. She shook her head. Bad to think of coke. Very bad. She paced the floor of her vast bedroom, kicking through the clothes that were strewn everywhere. Amazing how depressing the place looked when she wasn't high. Even after a month of sobriety, she still hadn't managed to clean it. But the mess used to be a comfort; she felt like she could hide in it--as if the heaps of dirty laundry were actually enchanted mountains in a magical, secret world. When she locked the doors and sliced out a couple of lines in the mirror, everything around her became transformed....

  "Stop thinking about drugs!" she hissed out loud.

  She glanced at the clock on her desk. It was already past six. A whole day had come and gone--and she still had heard no word from Gaia. Nobody had picked up at Gaia's house when Mary had tried to call

  there, either. But it wasn't as if they had made definite plans or anything. After they bolted from that dorm last night, Gaia had just kept on running. She hardly even said good-bye. She didn't even look back. For all Mary knew, Gaia had gone upstate on some foster family outing.

  Yeah. Sure.

  A person didn't have to spend a lot of time with Gaia Moore to know that foster family outings played no role in her life.

  But at the very least, Mary had made an important discovery last night. There definitely was some history between Gaia and Sam Moon--

  The phone on her desk rang.

  Finally, she thought. She ran over to grab it-
-but unfortunately, there was no place for her to sit. All of those stupid Christmas books were stacked on her desk chair. Jesus. She was definitely going to have to trade them in for some real gifts. With an impatient swat, she shoved them onto the floor, then snatched up the phone and plopped down into the soft, cushiony seat.

  "Hello?"

  "I want my five hundred dollars, bitch."

  The blood drained from Mary's face. It wasn't Gaia.

  "S-S-Skizz?" she stuttered.

  "Hello?" her mom answered on another phone.

  Shit. "I got it, Mom," she said quickly. "I got it--"

  "Okay, dear." Her tone was cheerful. "Dinner will be ready in five minutes, so keep it short, okay--"

  "I got it," she hissed.

  There was a fumbling click.

  "Aw," Skizz said, his voice gravelly. "Ain't that sweet? Well, don't worry, dear. You're gonna make dinner. We ain't got much to talk about."

  Mary's breath started coming fast. "How did you get this number?" she whispered.

  Skizz started cracking up. "Damn, girl, you musta been more messed up than I thought. You don't remember giving it to me?"

  No, she didn't. Then again, she wouldn't be surprised if Skizz were lying right now. That was one of the many two-sided problems with drugs: you did things you couldn't remember, but you also hung out with con artists who made up lies about you. And since your brain was fried most of the time, you could never provide any evidence to contradict those lies. You never knew the truth. But it was always safe to assume the worst.

  "Well, that's okay," Skizz went on. "I won't take it personally. All I want is my money. Then you won't have to worry about me calling you again. Ever."

  Mary swallowed. Her eyes kept darting to the door. What if her mother decided to come in right now? She should have locked it; but then, she wasn't allowed to lock it anymore. That was one of the conditions of her cleanup program.

  "I don't have your money," Mary said finally.

  Skizz chuckled. His laugh was very easygoing and friendly--which somehow only made it more terrifying. "Then we have a problem," he said.