Blind (7 page)

“Terrible.” Heather sat down and slid into the booth. “Horrible. The worst ever.”

Josh dropped into the booth and frowned. “What went wrong?”

“You weren't there,” said Heather.

Josh laughed. “I apologize for that. A terrible oversight on my part since it would have been a chance to spend more time with you.” His smile faded a bit. “Hey, I need to apologize for crapping out on you last night.”

Heather tried not to look as confused as she felt. Had Josh left her? It was just one of a million things she couldn't remember about the previous evening. “It's all right,” she said, playing along. She didn't want Josh to pick up on the fact that she had no idea what he was referring to.

She felt a little more comfortable as they ordered their food. She laughed at Josh's jokes, and the last jabbing pains of her headache began to dull a bit. Josh asked more questions about school and the other students there. Heather filled him in, taking a few
shots at the stupidity of the teachers, the worthlessness of most of the students, how anxious she was to get out of high school and into college, where something really interesting might happen. She was relieved when their dinner finally arrived. She didn't have to be quite as entertaining while Josh downed a burger and fries.

After the food Heather began to feel tired again, and though she tried hard to fight it, the gaps in the conversation grew longer. She worked hard to think of something fresh to talk about, something provocative. And that's when Heather remembered Gaia Moore.

“Oh,” she said. “Remember that girl Gaia I told you about?” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “She says she knows you.”

“Knows me?” Josh said with a raised eyebrow.

Heather nodded. “Yes. She says you're a dangerous man. Extremely dangerous. In fact, she says you're a killer.” She waited for Josh to laugh, but to her surprise, the expression on his face was completely serious. Heather pressed her lips together, afraid that she had said something terribly wrong. “It's okay,” she said. “It's only crazy Gaia. She's completely insane.”

Josh looked at her. Looked down at his food. Then looked up again. The expression on his gorgeous face was unmistakably guilty.

Heather allowed herself to frown. “What? What's wrong?”

“I do know Gaia,” said Josh.

“You … Gaia …” Heather stared at him in shock. “But you said you didn't.”

“I know.”

“You even made fun of her name.”

Heather took a few seconds to concentrate on breathing. She had been so sure that everything Gaia told her about Josh had been a lie. Something Gaia had made up just to make Heather's life miserable. But if Gaia really did know Josh, then how much of what Gaia had said might be true? Heather couldn't remember all the things Gaia had said about him, but certain words wouldn't go away. Dangerous. Killer.

Heather started to slide out of the booth, but Josh reached across the table and put a hand on her shoulder. “Wait,” he said. “I'm sorry I lied. That was wrong. Completely wrong. Okay? I do know Gaia. It's just …” He gave a small, shy smile. “We were having such a good time. I didn't want Gaia messing up things between us before we even got started.”

Heather pressed her lips together. “How do you know her?”

“Gaia and I knew each other a long time ago. We were …” He paused for a second, and his face took on an amused expression that Heather didn't like at all. “You might say our families were in business together. Gaia and I were friends and then, for a while, more than friends.”

“You went out with Gaia?” Heather felt another surge of shock, but this time it was layered with extreme irritation. Wasn't there one guy in New York that Gaia Moore hadn't been with? Just one? Okay, it was easy to believe Gaia was a slut; maybe she went after every guy that moved. But shouldn't there be one guy in the entire city with actual taste? Why was it that every guy Heather ever liked had this fixation on a girl who looked like she hadn't washed her hair in a week and who had the fashion sense of a cockroach?

“It wasn't for long,” Josh continued. “The thing with me and Gaia. We were together for a while, but it was bad news from the start. We've been split for a long time.”

“She said you were a killer,” said Heather.

“Oh, well, everybody knows that. Haven't you seen my picture in the post office?” Josh laughed. He took Heather's hand in his and gave her a reassuring glance. “Look, our little deal ended with some severe ugliness. I'm not surprised she's going around saying bad things about me.” His smile got wide, and he rolled his eyes. “Though calling me a killer is pretty out there.” He took his hand away from Heather's and leaned back against the padded leather of the booth. “I'm sorry she said all that crazy shit. I hope you didn't take it seriously.”

“Of course not.” Heather shrugged. “I mean, it's
Gaia, right? I know better than to take her seriously.”

Josh smiled. “Good. Because that chick can get pretty dramatic. You should have heard some of the things she accused me of the day I broke up with her.”

Suddenly the conversation was headed in a direction that Heather liked much, much better. “You dumped Gaia?”

“Yeah.”

“She didn't leave you? You dumped her?”

“Uh-huh.”

“When's the last time you saw her?”

“It's been a while,” said Josh. “Maybe a year.”

“And you don't want her back?”

“Want her back?” Josh seemed surprised. “Why would I want to be with Gaia when I'm with you?”

Heather let out a relieved breath.
He doesn't want her.
After another moment she became more excited. This was the way the world was supposed to be. For once, a guy had dumped Gaia and come to Heather. Okay, maybe it hadn't been a straight dump-Gaia, beg-for-Heather deal, but it was close. This was the first hint of justice Heather had seen since Gaia Moore had showed up at her school. The best-looking guy Heather had ever met had
dumped
Gaia Moore. There was still hope for the male of the species.

For a few seconds they were both silent. Then Josh put his hands on the table and stood. “Listen, I'm sorry, but I have to split,” he said.

“Split?” Heather's chest tightened. “You're leaving? But we just finished eating. Don't you want to hang out for a little while?”

Heather couldn't believe she'd let herself say those words. Being vulnerable was against Gannis policy. Then again, so was getting plastered. Not to mention having sex in public places. Maybe Gaia wasn't the only one who was falling apart.

“I'm sorry, but I can't tonight,” Josh replied.

Heather's vision blurred. Josh was leaving, and he didn't want her to go with him. Maybe he was already bored with her. Maybe he was even going to see Gaia. He had lied when he said he knew Gaia. Maybe he'd lied when he said he was over her. Maybe just hearing Gaia's name had stimulated some unstoppable urge to kiss those big puffy lips of hers.

Heather put her fingers to the bridge of her nose and squeezed. The Great Headache was making a return visit. “Why?” she said softly. “Why are you leaving?”

“It's something important.” Josh reached out a hand to her. “Something that will change everything.”

“Are you… I mean, are we going to get together again?”

“Of course,” said Josh. “This thing I'm doing tonight, it's not for me. It's for us.”

“For us?” Heather blinked the forming tears away from her eyes. “What is it?”

“Will you trust me?”

Heather took his hand and gave her bravest smile. “I trust you.”

Josh squeezed her hand and held it for a long, warm moment before letting go. He flashed another smile, dropped a twenty on the table without waiting for the bill, and hurried out into the dark streets.

Back
in that never-never time when I had parents, we used to take vacations. Sounds like science fiction now, but it's one of those things that real families do. And no matter where we went, we always rode on the subway.

I'm not sure who it was that was so into them. Maybe it was my father. Maybe my mom. Maybe it was me. That me from back then, that me-with-a-mom, seems like such a stranger now. I don't always remember what that kid liked.

I remember all those subways, though. The one in Washington, D.C., has these arched galleries made from red stone and tracks that cross over and under each other in intersections that pile up, one on top of another.

The one in London is really old. I think maybe they built the subway first, then sat back and waited until the city settled over it. In some parts you get on subway cars that look pretty
normal. In other parts you get on these weird little cars with curved tops that seem like definite Sherlock Holmes territory. And they're made out of this ancient tile that gives everything this strange, hollow echo.

But the thing I remember most about the London Underground is “the gap.” I'm not talking about the overpriced McDonald's-of-clothes kind of Gap. This gap is the space between the edge of the platform and the door of the subway car. It's not all that big, but in London they warn you—repeatedly—to mind it. There's this endless mechanical voice that says “mind the gap” over and over whenever the doors open and shut.

When we were on vacation there, my mom started using the phrase “mind the gap” all the time instead of “be careful.” She continued to use it after the vacation had ended, too, and I started saying it back.

“Mind the gap going to school today, Gaia.”

“Okay, Mom. You mind the gap, too.” It was a ritual thing. You know, step on a crack, you break your mother's back. Remember to say “mind the gap,” and your mom is safe for the day.

Sometimes when I'm on the subway in New York, I think about the gap. I almost expect to hear that robo-voice with the British accent saying the words over and over. Mind the gap. Mind the gap. It's pretty good advice for people riding the subway. There are plenty of gaps down there. And not just the kind you might step into.

Guys with shaved heads and big knives. Guys with drugs. Guys with guns. Those are some pretty common gaps.

In the daytime it's crowded but usually calm. Ninety percent people on their way to work. Nine percent tourists. One percent assorted New York City weirdness.

But nighttime is a completely different story. The night shift is more like ninety percent
weirdness, nine percent working, and one percent Oh My God, Did You See That. Lots of gaps.

But I guess you don't have to be on the subway to find a gap. My mom told me to mind the gap the day she died. I'm not sure I said it back. I think so, but some six-year-old part of my brain says I didn't. Because if I did, my mom would have been safe.

She wouldn't have been swallowed by the gap.

Gaia walked slowly, looking for her unknown partner in this midnight blind date.

GAIA GOT OFF THE SEVENTH AVENUE subway line and climbed the steps up to the street. It was late, and the air had cooled at least twenty degrees while she had been underground. She took a moment to get her bearings, then plunged across the street and headed for Fort Tryon Park.

The Cloisters was hidden in the middle of little Fort Tryon Park. Any park was probably not on the list of most recommended places to visit in New York after midnight. But since Gaia had recently been spending her nights stalking around Central Park and had spent countless evenings flushing muggers out of Washington Square Park, this didn't seem like a big deal. Even if she had been capable of feeling fear, Fort Tryon Park probably wouldn't have rated a scare. The whole thing was only less than a mile wide.

But if the place for this meeting wasn't anything to get excited about, the person she was meeting might be. Gaia had no idea who had written the note. It could have been Loki or someone in Loki's organization. Someone like Josh. Gaia knew that Josh was in town, and Josh knew that Gaia had seen him. This whole thing with the notes and the meeting might be a trap. But it might not. The note
could have come from Gaia's father. Though why would her father have written a note that explained how to find his own apartment unless he had planned to meet her there? No, it was almost certainly an enemy.

That was a good guess because Gaia seemed to have such a constantly growing list of enemies, while her list of friends got smaller every day. Sam was dead. Mary was dead. The fragile friendship she had thought was starting with Heather was broken. Even Ed was gone. She had pushed him away—to keep him safe—and it looked like he was going to run right into the skinny arms of Tatiana. The two of them probably spent all night telling Gaia's Most Embarrassing Moments stories to each other.

The enemy team was definitely winning the recruitment drive.

Gaia shook her head. She was almost there. A few more minutes and she would know who was behind the gray notes.

She jogged across a street through light traffic. New York might be the city that never sleeps, but the neighborhood around Fort Tryon Park was definitely taking a power nap. There was no one on the sidewalks, and only a few lights were on in the nearest apartment buildings. As Gaia slid in between the trunks of the huge old oaks at the park's perimeter, an odd hush fell around her. The park might be small,
but the trees did a great job of blocking the sounds and lights of the city.

Like the surrounding neighborhood, the park was very serene. Lighting was sparse. Gaia found herself walking from one small pool of light, through wide areas of darkness, and into another temporary patch of brightness. It was too cold for crickets or frogs, though something small could be heard moving in the bushes. A wind kicked up, rattling the few dry leaves that remained on the trees. The moon rose up over the buildings to the east and added a pale pewter glow to the shadows.