Payback (9 page)

Read Payback Online

Authors: Francine Pascal

Tags: #Action & Adventure, #Contemporary, #General, #Fantasy, #Suspense, #Fiction

BOOK: Payback
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SELF-EMPLOYED

ELLA KNEW SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO
be working, but she consoled herself by remembering that Sam was part of all this. Loki might not think he was important right now, but Ella knew better. He was important. One day Loki would thank her. Commend her for her foresight.

When Sam left his dorm, Ella tailed him without much care for discreetness. He wasn't trained to spot her, so there was no reason to put in the effort. She knew where he was going, anyway. To the park, to look for Gaia.

How pathetic could he be?

Still, he was nice to look at. The way the late afternoon sun highlighted his hair and the shape of his cheekbones. Ella wouldn't mind getting a piece of Sam Moon.

Which was exactly why Gaia wouldn't be.

Ella would make sure of that.

She followed him across Washington Square North and through the arch. He stopped to help a little girl who'd dropped her books pick them up and replace them in her bag. So he was chivalrous, too. Did the fun ever stop?

Ella kept walking, deciding to find a perch in the park where she could keep an eye on him while he kept an eye out for Gaia. Loki would have wanted Ella to be keeping an eye out for Gaia too. But right now that didn't matter. Right now, she was working for herself.

A THREAT

AFTER SCHOOL GAIA HEADED STRAIGHT
for the park as fast as her tattered sneakers would carry her. She felt the need to reimmerse herself in the world she loved. In the society of other social abnormalities like Zolov and Renny and Mr. Haq. Last night she'd come far too close to the normal high school experience for her own comfort. And this lunchtime's game with the Wall Street dork had done nothing to stimulate her brain cells.

It was time for a freezing-yet-challenging game of chess and some conversation with a little old Russian.

And if she bumped into Sam while he was on a study break, well, that wouldn't technically be her fault.

Gaia was just blowing by Tower Records when she could have sworn she heard someone call her name. The wind was definitely playing tricks with her. She kept walking.

"Gaia?" Jogging footsteps. "Hey! Wait up!"

She stopped and shoved her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt jacket. As she turned, the wind blasted into her face, instantly watering up her eyes and practically tearing her hair out of her scalp as it whipped back.

"Are you crying?"

It was Charlie Salita. And he looked genuinely concerned. Go figure.

"No," Gaia said, touching her raw palms to her eyes. "Just the wind."

"Oh." He smiled. His smile really didn't suck. Gaia suddenly felt totally conspicuous, standing on the street corner with one of the Village School's elite. She was already getting sucked back into the social black hole. "Where are you headed?" Charlie asked.

Gaia pointed her thumb over her shoulder. "Park."

"Cool. Mind if I walk with you?"

He had to be kidding. Wasn't it illegal for him to be seen with her or something? Weren't there universally accepted rules about this type of inter-high-school-species fraternization? And she couldn't believe he hadn't been totally put off by her hasty retreat the night before. There was something very odd going on, and Gaia wasn't entirely sure what to do about it.

Avoidance seemed like a good plan, though.

"Do you want something?" she asked, starting off. He fell into step beside her as she crossed Washington Square West and headed into the park. He had a long stride and kept pace with her easily. Most people had to jog to keep up.

"No," Charlie said with a laugh. "Why do I have to want something?"

Gaia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Most people do," she said.

"Okay, I do want something." He stopped and backed out of the walkway so that the other pedestrians could get by. Gaia hesitated for a moment, then backed off the path in the other direction. She faced him, but there was a steady stream of people bustling by between them, trying to get to their next destinations before their noses froze off.

"What is it?" Gaia semishouted.

"Can you come over here?" Charlie said, clearly amused.

"Whatever it is, you can ask me from there," Gaia said. She was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, trying incredibly hard not to scan the area for Sam.

"Fine. I was wondering if you would go out with me this weekend," Charlie shouted. A couple of younger kids going by on skateboards snickered and leered at her as they passed. As her face turned an extremely dark shade of confused red, Gaia had three simultaneous thoughts.

Charlie was brain damaged -- which wasn't all that shocking.

She was flattered -- which definitely threw her.

And there was no way she was ever going to say yes.

There was the whole interspecies thing. The whole date-awkwardness thing. The fact that the last guy she'd said yes to had turned out to be a serial killer.

And there was also Sam. Or at least the possibility of Sam.

"I don't think so," Gaia said, starting off toward the chessboards again. Thankfully, Charlie didn't follow this time. He didn't drop it, either.

"I don't give up that easily!" Charlie yelled after her. He sounded very happy about it. Like he'd just made the ultimate promise.

Unfortunately, to Gaia it sounded more like a threat. She was actually starting to like the kid a little. It would be a pain if he kept forcing her to say no.

A RIFT

THE ASIAN BOY LAUGHED AS HE
pulled on his leather gloves and strolled out of the park, right by Sam. Right by Sam, who had just narrowly missed the little shouted proposition. The flirtatious smiles. The flattered blush on Gaia's face.

Ella had to sit down.

Why did he have to stop for that little girl? That could have been such a satisfyingly awkward confrontation. It might not have caused a rift, but it could have caused a crack. A splinter. A little hair-line fracture.

It would have been entertaining.

Ella glanced from Gaia's face back to Sam's. Each going off in an opposite direction. They'd missed each other. At least that was something. And it would have to be enough.

For now.

BEAUTIFUL CHOICE

SAM WAS VERY PROUD OF HIMSELF.
He'd managed to walk right through the park to the other side in a straight line without even glancing at the chess tables. He'd been very good. He definitely deserved a lollipop or something.

He walked down Broadway into the heart of Greenwich Village, finally allowing himself to glance around as he went -- checking out the bizarre array of people milling all around him. A fake blond in a power suit walked by a guy playing a pair of metal garbage cans like drums on the sidewalk. Then a homeless woman hobbled past, yelling at him for making so much noise, and an obviously stoned college kid came to the drummer's defense, telling the woman she wouldn't know art if it bit her in the ass.

Sam chuckled and shook his head.
This
was a study break -- people-watching in the Village. If anything could clear his mind of equations and formulas, it was this. When he got back to the dorm, he'd be refreshed and ready to focus.

"Watch it! Watch it! Out of the way!"

Sam looked up just in time to jump out of the path of a messenger on a ten-speed doing mach twenty on the crowded sidewalk. He pressed his hand against a shop window to balance himself. There were laws against that these days, weren't there?

Suddenly there was an impossibly tiny Chinese woman getting right in his face. "You get fingerprint all over window!" she snapped.

Flinching, Sam pulled his hand away. "Sorry," he said.

"Get out of here, or you be
very
sorry," the lady warned, scrunching up her face angrily.

Sam took off down the street, shoving his hands under his arms. Suddenly people watching didn't seem very entertaining anymore. He ducked into the first shop he saw, just to get a breather from the bedlam outside.

Once he took a look around, he couldn't believe his luck. He'd fallen right into a specialty shop that sold board games. Lining one entire wall was a glass case filled with all kinds of chessboards, from the simple to the ridiculous. One pitted little metal American presidents against famous foreign leaders of the past. Another had intricately painted Disney characters dressed up as kings and queens and knights. Then there were marble sets and glass sets and ceramic sets. As Sam wandered along the case, he couldn't believe his eyes.

It was like Mecca for chess geeks. He wondered if Gaia knew about this place. He was sure she could spend hours in here.

Suddenly his eyes fell on a small wooden board on the bottom shelf. The squares were made out of dark cedar and light birch, and the pieces were carved down to the most minute detail. The whole thing had been shellacked and shined so that the shop lights bounced off the polished surfaces. It came in a small wooden carrying case that closed with a gold clasp.

The set was made for Gaia. It was beautiful, yet simple, and the girl who always seemed to be on the move could take it anywhere.

Sam rubbed his palms against the thighs of his cords and looked around. He hadn't even bought a Christmas present for his mother yet. Or for Heather. He never shopped until Christmas Eve, when all the salespeople seemed to want to gouge his eyes out just for walking into the store.

Was he nuts for thinking about buying Gaia a gift? He wasn't even totally sure how she felt about him. If he bought this for her, she'd probably think he was an overzealous, clingy freak.

But she would also love it. Of that he was sure. And it would be worth it just to see the look on her face when she held those tiny little pieces in her hand. Another reason to look forward to the end of finals.

A salesman in a maroon sweater vest with a bad comb-over practically tiptoed up to Sam. He placed his hands together and smiled. "Can I help you, sir?" he asked.

"I'd like the travel set," Sam said quickly.

"A beautiful choice," the man said so automatically, it was clear he recited those words about twenty times a day.

Still, Sam grinned as he reached for his wallet. It was a beautiful choice. For a beautiful girl.

THREESOME

WHEN GAIA TURNED ONTO PERRY
Street on Tuesday night and smelled the smell again, she immediately turned around and started back up Hudson. Her taste buds had already been massacred once this week, and she was too smart to make that mistake twice. Her stomach wanted food tonight, not bark and slop. George was just going to have to suffer without her.

Now came the good part. Deciding among the many fine grease-slinging restaurants of New York City. If there was any pleasure in Gaia's life, most of it came from sampling every fried food and sugar-coated anything on the Lower West Side. She hadn't run out of dives yet, but as soon as she did, she was going to branch out into other neighborhoods. Gaia hadn't seen Mary since she'd missed the party last night, so she'd yet to make good on her promise to help distract her friend. And the hunt for bad-for-you food was always distracting.

She would have called and told her to come down, but Mary had sent her a message this morning saying she was knee-deep in "family stuff" and would call when she could. She'd also included a cryptic p.s. saying that they needed to talk.

Gaia could guess what Mary wanted to talk about. The party had, admittedly, been relatively clean, but as far as "good" and "fun" went, there was no question it was a complete failure. Mary would be chomping at the bit to break the whole thing down into a play-by-play in which she'd find a way to make fun of every single person that was there. As far as "family stuff" went, Gaia already knew that probably meant "getting Mary clean" stuff like family counseling. Ick. Mary had described her program as being a cross between group therapy and Chinese water torture. When the poor girl finally came up for air, at least the party would be something for her and Gaia to laugh about.

Gaia gripped the strap on her messenger bag as she took the wind in the face. She ducked her head and watched the ground as she walked. Another of the many good things about winter. No one felt the need to make eye contact.

As she walked, Gaia passed by some of her standard favorites. Mama Buddha, where they sold the best wonton soup she'd found thus far. Franco's Gyro, where she knew better than to ask what was actually in the pitas. Before she knew it, she was headed up Sixth Avenue. When she passed by the colorful windows of Urban Outfitters, Gaia realized where her stomach was leading her.

Gray's Papaya. Home of the fifty-cent hot dog. Gaia had at least three dollars in her pocket. It was time to feast.

She mentally congratulated her belly on its choice as she swung open the door to the garishly lit eatery. But the congratulations ended when Gaia saw who was seated at the counter in front of the window along the right-hand wall. Charlie Who Didn't Give Up That Easily and Sideburns Tim.

Her stomach grumbled angrily as she turned to leave.

But it was too late.

"Gaia the Brave!"

"Buy you a hot dog?" Charlie asked gleefully. "I swear I won't consider it a date."

Gaia slowly faced them and rolled her eyes.

"Come on," Sideburns Tim said, holding up his orange paper cup. "We'll even throw in a drink."

Quickly Gaia weighed her options. Free hot dogs and annoying company or twigs and slop and even more annoying company.

Too bad there wasn't a curtain number three.

"Fine," Gaia said, plopping onto a stool. "Get me three, with everything. And a root beer."

Charlie and Tim exchanged half-amused, half-disgusted glances, and then Charlie got up to place the order. Sideburns Tim smiled at her as he took a sip of his soda. Gaia stared at her translucent reflection in the plate glass window. Her hair was a brilliant conglomeration of tangles and knots, and one side of her jacket collar was rolled under while the other stood straight up.

She was utterly hopeless.

"I like a girl who can eat," Tim said, wiping his hand across his mouth.

"Pardon me while I swoon," Gaia said, nonchalantly straightening her collar. Tim laughed, and she almost smiled. Another key comeback. She was getting better at this. It almost made up for her utter lack of hygiene.

"So did you ask her yet?" Charlie demanded when he returned a moment later, slapping a paper plate full of hot dogs and relish and every other condiment known to man in front of Gaia. Charlie's hair, on the other hand, was so ordered and flawless, he could have had a team of stylists in his back pocket. He straddled the stool between Gaia and Tim and looked back and forth at them.

Great. What were they going to ask for, a threesome?

"No. She was busy lampooning me," Tim said with a good-natured laugh.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Fine, I guess I have to do everything myself." He swiveled on his stool so he was entirely facing Gaia and popped his feet up on the bottom rung. "We're having another party tomorrow night," he said. "My place this time. I'd love for you to come."

Gaia smirked. "You just want me there for my aim."

"Not my primary motivation," Charlie said.

There was something in the way he said it that made Gaia blush. God, she hated that. Couldn't she have been born without the blushing gene? "I don't think so," she said. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Thanks."

"Why not?" Tim asked, popping his head up over Charlie's shoulder like a parrot. "Didn't you have fun last night?"

Gaia shoved half a hot dog in her mouth, letting a blob of relish hit the floor. The word
ladylike
wasn't in Gaia's personal dictionary. She was kind of hoping her ickiness would drive them away, but they only looked more fascinated. "It's just not my thing," she said through a full mouth of food.

"Well," Charlie said, eyeing her plate. "We have three hot dogs' worth of time to convince you."

Gaia narrowed her eyes and shoved the other half of her hot dog into her mouth.

Charlie's brow knitted in concern. "You think you could eat a little slower?"

To:
[email protected]
From:
[email protected]
Time:
4:30 P.M.
Re:
911

Hey, G. --

I left a couple of messages with Ella, but somehow I get the feeling you'll never get them. I need to talk to you. It's kind of important. If you get this, meet me at Dojo's at seven o'clock. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't huge.

Thanks.

Shred

To:
[email protected]
From:
[email protected]
Time:
8:05 p.m.
Re:
stood up

Hey, G. --

So I guess you didn't get the message. Call me when you get this. I really need to talk to you. I'm sure you can tell by the lack of bad jokes in this e-mail that I'm actually freaking.

Call me.

Shred

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