Gone (22 page)

“Ed, are you there?” Kai sighed.

Ed turned to her with an apologetic glance. He sure as hell hoped Kai found better friends than him out there in the world because he'd done a pretty lousy job of it. And tonight would be no exception.

“Hey,” he said, desperately hoping not to hurt her feelings. “Do you think you'd be cool heading to the after thing solo? I think I'm getting a little sick.”

Kai looked into his eyes, and then she smiled forgivingly. “Sure,” she said. “I understand.” He knew she understood far more than she was saying, and they shared one last hug.

“Thanks,” he said. “You looked absolutely stunning tonight. I'm sorry if I was—”

“You weren't.” She grinned. “You were a great date.”

“No, I wasn't.” He smiled. “You deserved better.”

“Well… maybe in five years? Dinner at the Supper Club?”

“Absolutely. Or maybe next week?”

“Even better,” she said.

He kissed Kai on the cheek and they said their last goodbyes, and then he stepped over to Heather and Sam and gave them his sick story. They of course immediately understood the code. Heather threw her arms around him and gave him a long and powerful hug.

“I love you, Ed. I honestly do.”

“I love you, too,” he replied with his mouth muffled in her hair.

She gripped his shoulders and gave him one last looking over. “She'll be okay, Ed. I know she will.”

“I know,” Ed said.

“Call me tomorrow?”

“I will.”

Ed turned to Sam and gave him a firm handshake. Their eyes locked with some kind of understanding. Something about this night and hearing the news of Gaia's departure had left them with a new mutual respect. “Keep a good watch on her tonight,” Ed said, referring to Heather. “No ice hockey or anything.”

Heather slapped Ed playfully on the arm.

“Will do,” Sam said.

“Okay… good night. You two were great tonight.”

They smiled graciously. And with that, Ed turned around and began his long walk home with his hands buried deep in his tuxedo pockets. The sound of the crowd drifted off behind him, and he was supremely conscious of walking away from his past and trying to focus on his future. He didn't do a very good job of it, though. By the fifth building from the club all he could really think about was his past. No amount of rationalization could truly take his mind off thoughts of what should have been.

Move on, Ed. Just keep moving. It's just a goodbye. You'll survive it. You'll—

But Ed never finished that thought He never had the chance. It was ripped away by brute force. By the last nightmare of the evening. The one thing he always dreaded in the city but still never expected. The thing no one in New York ever expects despite the fact that they're always just waiting for it to happen…

A late-night mugging in a garbage-filled alley on Forty-seventh Street.

Two hands reached out from a dark narrow alley and slammed up against his back, tugging him violently off the street and into the shadow. Ed just couldn't believe it.

In that one split second, before his body was snapped back into the alley like a rag doll, he was completely crushed by a wave of bitter disbelief—by the cold, merciless irony that could only exist in New York.

This can't be happening, he thought. Not tonight. I've already lost everything tonight. I can't possibly be losing my money and my life, too.

But it was happening. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. The worst night of his life was going to end with an armed robbery and a shot in the head.

“I don't
have
any money,” Ed spat. “I just came from…”

But his voice suddenly trailed off into silence. Because Ed had finally turned to face down the mugger in the alley. And the mugger… wasn't a mugger at all.

SHE DIDN'T EVEN SPEAK AT FIRST. Nor did Ed. He could only stand and stare at the half of her perfect face that he could see, dimly lit by the fluorescent outdoor lights of the Korean deli on the corner. The sound of passing traffic echoed off the narrow brick walls of the alley. He wasn't sure how to fill the noisy silence. He wasn't sure what to say. He was still in a mild state of shock at the sight of her.

He couldn't even read the half of her expression that he could see. She was neither happy nor sad. She looked a bit like she'd been to hell and back, but she always looked that way. After a series of lightningquick half thoughts and a batch of deeply overwhelming emotions, Ed finally spoke one of the dumbest half thoughts of them all.

“You're… not in Florida.”

“No,” Gaia said, keeping her eyes fixed on his.

“No,” he repeated. She apparently didn't plan to say much. “You're… leaving for Florida?”

“No,” she replied. “But I am leaving.”

“Oh.” Ed's heart began to sink again.

“Ed, I just…”

The sound of a group of laughing seniors came from down the block. Gaia glanced at the street, and then she grabbed Ed's lapel, pulling him deeper into the alley. The light was even dimmer this far in, but at least there was a bit more quiet.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Gaia, what's going on?”

“I am okay,” she said, rather oddly. “Right now. Right now I am okay.”

Ed stepped closer to her, and now he could see that her hair was soaking wet with sweat, as were her T-shirt and her jeans. “Hey… what happened to you? Did you just run a marathon instead of attending your senior prom?”

“You could say that. Sort of.”

Ed listened more closely to her voice, and suddenly he understood. It hit him hard in the center of his chest. He had finally heard her speak enough words to make sense of her hesitance and her strange inflections. He knew this voice of hers. This careful measured monotone. It was the voice Gaia used when she was trying not to cry.

He took a step closer so that they were nearly nose to nose, and he forgot about every stupid negative thought he'd had this evening and most of the week and most of the weeks before that. He dropped it al1 in the mental trash bin and set it on fire. Because she was here now. On the last night of high school, she was here. And he was here for her.

“It's okay,” he said, locking his eyes with hers. “You don't have to tell me. Whatever is going on, you don't have to say anything. I'm just really,
really
glad to see you. That's the only thing I want to say.”

Gaia looked back into his eyes, and Ed saw something
in her finally break. She fell forward and threw her arms around him, nestling her head on his shoulder, clasping her hands tightly behind his neck and squeezing for dear life. Ed grasped her waist tightly and shut his eyes. He could feel it in the quick contractions of her diaphragm. She had begun to cry silently on his shoulder, and it was making his heart break.

‘I'm leaving, Ed,” she said through her tears. “For good. And… I need to leave tonight, and I was on my way to the bus station, and I really didn't want to deal with anybody, but. . . I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you. I couldn't do that.”

Ed took a deep breath and tried not to punch himself in the face. He had always trusted his instincts. Always. Especially where Gaia was concerned. Even when Liz had talked about Florida, he'd known it didn't sound right. But
he
was the one who'd momentarily lost faith in their friendship. Not her. He was the one who'd stopped believing in their connection. And he would never make that mistake again. That is, if he even had the opportunity to make that mistake in the future. He still wasn't clear on the “future” part….

“Gaia… I don't understand,” he said. He lifted her head from his shoulder so he could get a better look at her. Tears had made her cheeks just as sopping wet as her hair. “Where are you going?”

Gaia stared at him in silence for far too long. This was clearly a question she didn't want to answer. Or
maybe she didn't know the answer? “I'm leaving New York,” she said. “It's time.”

“But where?”

“Wherever.”

Ed didn't even know what to say in response. Gaia was the only person he knew who could leave an entire life behind without even deciding where she was going first. He envied her in a way. But that didn't mean he could accept her terms.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Gaia didn't even blink. “I'm sure.”

The conviction in her tearstained eyes left Ed speechless. Speechless and hurting. He was losing her all over again. She had finally shown up just to disappear for good.

“Well, I'll come with you,” he announced. And he meant it. There wasn't an ounce of wishful thinking there. He was just stating fact. If Gaia could up and leave the city, then so could he. He could go anywhere with her. Anywhere she wanted to go.

“No. You can't,” she said. That was it. Just those three words spoken with such certainty—such absolute finality. It chopped Ed right off at the knees. It left his heart stumbling around again, trying desperately to regain its footing.

“Please don't worry, Ed,” she said. “I'll be okay.”

“Gaia…,” he said dubiously, “I just—”

“Ed, please,” she begged. “You
don't
need to worry.
You know I can take care of myself. You're the one person on this planet who has always respected that. Please don't change now. Not now.
Please.
”

Ed looked in her eyes. He could see how important this was to her. He could see that the stakes were so much higher for her than they had ever been before. And more than that… he could see that even one wrong word could cut her so deep. This wasn't the Gaia he was used to: the girl with walls around her so high and so thick that it would take the end of a cold war to tear them down. Something had happened to her since the last time he saw her. Something big and bad enough to make those walls crumble. He had never seen her so raw and exposed. And he wasn't about to do
anything
to cut further into those open wounds. He just couldn't do that. Whatever she needed right now, that's what he had to give her. Just looking at her was killing him as it was.

“Okay.” He nodded. “Okay…”

“Ed… Just say goodbye to me.” She swiped the falling tears from one cheek with her forearm, and Ed automatically wiped the other cheek with his thumb. “Please. Say goodbye and promise me that we're both going to be okay.”

He felt another one of the seams in his heart tearing open. All he had wanted for the past three hours was this—just a chance for one last proper
goodbye. But the reality of it was so much worse than anything he could have conjured up in his head. Saying goodbye to her face… her actual face… that was a whole other level of pain. He didn't know if he could say goodbye. He still wasn't sure he could do it, despite how much it was clearly what she needed him to do.

But that was really the point. It wasn't just what she wanted him to do, it was what she
needed
him to do. And Ed would always place her needs above his own. That would be true for the rest of his life, no matter what happened.

He grabbed hold of both her hands, and he pulled her closer. There were a hundred million things he wanted to say. He wanted to beg her to stay. He wanted to take her back to his apartment and let her sleep for as long as she needed and stay as long as she needed and have bagels and coffee every morning for the entire summer. He wanted to get down on one knee and propose an immediate shotgun wedding in Vegas, and if she said yes, then he would pick her up in his arms and carry her out of that alley and all the way home if she asked. What he wanted most was just to be with her. To be with her for as long as they could possibly be together until the absolute end—whatever form that would take. He just wanted her to
stay.

But if Gaia Moore said she was leaving, then she
was leaving. And neither Ed nor a fully armed SWAT team could possibly stop her. He'd already lived through the horrific experience of her leaving without saying goodbye. He wasn't about to live through it twice.

‘Okay,” he said. He forced himself to take deep breaths so as not to lose it “Okay… Goodbye.”

“Say the rest.” She sniffled, squeezing his hands.

Ed swallowed hard. He suddenly realized that what he was swallowing were his tears. “Right,” he uttered. He took another deep breath. “I… promise you that we are both going to be okay… particularly you” he added, feeling the need to be slightly more honest. “Me, I'm still working on it a little.”

“No, you have to promise,” she insisted. “You have to promise that you're going to be okay. I can't leave until you promise.”

She was making it far too easy. All he had to do was not promise and she would stay.

“Gaia, can't you—?”

“No, Ed, if you make this any harder, then I will Fall completely apart right now.
Please.
Don't make me regret coming here to say goodbye. I needed this. I needed to see you.”

Ed took one last look at her fragile expression, and he convinced himself. She had left him with no choice but to spit out the words. He forced himself to believe it before he said it. “I promise that I am going to be
okay,” he stated. He bit down hard on his tongue. He was swallowing everything now—words, tears, blood, even. He swallowed it all down for her sake and he tried to appear as stable as he could. But just beneath the surface… just behind the face he knew she needed to see… he could feel himself unraveling.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay… so. . goodbye.” She wiped her face again and tried to smile.

He wanted to wrap her up in his jacket and never let go. He wanted to hoist her over his shoulder and stash her away somewhere until she realized what a big mistake she was making—until she realized how much she needed him. But he did none of the above. All he could do was tighten every muscle in his face and say it. “Goodbye.”