Terror (4 page)

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Authors: Francine Pascal

BOOK: Terror
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You may be tempted to take this threat lightly, considering that fearlessness is all you know. But the far-reaching repercussions are innumerable.

I hope you now see that my intentions were good
when I tried to talk to you in the Village this afternoon—that I am just an uncle looking out for the safety of his niece. I hope you recognize that a new fire has entered the fray, and you are playing with it unawares. So keep your head up….

Best,

Oliver

P.S. Enclosed are some pictures and a few souvenirs I picked up for you in Tajikistan.

stranger in her own skin

Their expressions betrayed a combination of disgust and intrigue of the watching-animals-at-the-zoo variety.

Page Six

GAIA STUCK TO THE SIDE OF THE hallway as she walked, trying not to be noticed. Something about her outfit was making her feel like a stranger in her own skin. It wasn't the jeans. She had on a pair of Lucky Brands that she'd bought because they were objectively sexy but then never worn because they were too damn tight. The real issue was this tiny, light blue, navel-baring camisole. The shirt had the words
Roller Derby
underneath a pair of roller skates. Ed had convinced her to buy it way back when at Urban Outfitters, saying it was funny and kitschy and matched her eyes. It had been gathering dust ever since, for two reasons: (1) it wasn't her style, and (2) it was too tight.

The truth was, she was just wearing it for the benefit of the FOHs. This morning she'd had a vision. Hiding from the world gave her too much time to think. Too much time to think about Oliver's minions following her everywhere she went. Too much time to think about Ed and how she hadn't quite gotten around to visiting him yet. Too much time to think about those cracked-out Invince freaks on the streets who might or might not want to carve
X
s in her now fear-riddled body. Too much time to think about Jake and how she still hadn't taken the time to have the relationship talk with him. Too much time to watch
eerie true-crime murder mysteries on A&E. She had too much time. If she kept stewing in her own juices in that minuscule, barely furnished room, she would end up in a madhouse. At this juncture in her life, isolation was a bad thing.

What she needed was people. She needed to socialize, to drown out her dark thoughts with meaningless chatter. The problem was, besides Jake and Ed, she had no real friends. That just meant she would have to go make some. A quick shuffle through Gaia's mental Rolodex brought her to the Friends of Heather. She had access to them. Hell, she even knew them. The fact that she didn't enjoy their company seemed inconsequential, considering the alternative of living in psychotic solitude. Maybe hanging out with them, with somebody, would put her in a lighter mood. And really, what group would be better fitted to blanket her troubling thoughts with trifling chitchat?

Out of the corner of her eye Gaia spotted a crew of guys checking her out. She picked up the pace. The corner of the hallway formally occupied by the FOHs was just up on the right. Gaia exhaled, steeling herself for the onslaught of gossip.

“Yeah, well, I heard Zach Tripp has turned into a total cokehead,” Megan was saying. “Ever since his dad got prison time for insider trading, he's been a fiend. His dad's like some big CEO, hangs out with Mick
Jagger, marries and divorces supermodels, that whole rich guy thing…. Ohmigod!”

Tammie had recognized Gaia first. This was one of those things Gaia could never get used to: the loud, needlessly dramatic way that the FOHs greeted people they deemed worthy of talking to.

“Ohhhhhh!” Melanie yelled. “Look who has decided to grace us with her presence….”

Gaia forced a smile and made a little wave. “Hey,” she said. “What's up?”

“The usual,” Laura said. “Just picking apart the Village School scene like the E! network does Hollywood.”

“I like to think of us as more like gossip reporters for Page Six,” Megan said.

“Hey,” Tammie said to Gaia. “I dig your shirt, roller derby girl.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Gaia looked down at her shirt. She felt a wave of self-satisfaction at having pinned down their tastes.

“Let me guess,” Megan said. “Twenty bucks at Urban Outfitters, right?”

Gaia's face pinkened. She shrugged and looked at the floor. “I don't remember…”

A hush fell over the FOHs. Gaia wondered whether she'd crossed some invisible line into uncool territory. She looked up. As should have been expected, the FOHs were no longer interested in her. They were
staring at the new girl, as were most of the guys in the vicinity. She was some blond from L.A. Her dad was a producer, or so went the word around the Village School campfire. In any case, he must have money. Only a rich family would have the audacity to change their kid's school less than a month before graduation. Her name was Francesca, or something like that. She was wearing a skintight microminiskirt and a T-shirt that had been fashionably chopped to pieces, revealing her perfectly moisturized mocha skin. The FOHs had been watching Francesca with a keen eye since she'd transferred here a few weeks before. New girls like her and Liz Rodke threatened the FOHs' place atop the fashion and status hierarchy.

“I thought the white-trash whore look went out last season,” Megan blurted.

“How much for a lap dance?” Laura chimed in.

“Ooooooh,” someone mooed.

Francesca turned to face the FOHs. Gaia felt suddenly ashamed to be in their company. “Let me get a good look at all of you,” Francesca said. She took care to make eye contact with every one of them, including Gaia, who wished she could disappear. “So now I know who's in the crew of petty, jealous bitches around here.”

“Ooooooooh.”

Francesca walked away. The FOHs let out a collective moan.

“She has no idea who she's playing with,” Tammie said.

“Yeah,” Megan added. “She's gonna pay for that shit.”

“Hey,” Laura said. “We should have Gaia beat her up. You know karate, right?”

Shell-shocked, Gaia nodded. “Yeah.” She knew she should be appalled by the mere suggestion of beating this girl up out of allegiance to the FOHs. But she was too busy basking in the solidarity to care. At least she was down with
someone.
She wasn't alone—that was the important thing. “And jujitsu and
muay thai,”
she added.

What am I talking about?
Gaia felt the urge to slap herself or whoever it was using her lips to speak.

“You should do it,” Tammie said. “You should corner her sometime when the hallways are empty and just pound her. Did you hear what she said about you?”

Actually, she was talking to you,
Gaia thought. She was just using these people as a bulwark against loneliness. She didn't actually belong to the FOHs. She wasn't complicit in their rudeness. Or was she? Regardless, she wouldn't be beating anyone up. The FOHs had picked a fight with Francesca, and they'd gotten verbally lambasted. Publicly humiliated. Why was Gaia thinking these thoughts but not saying them?
The old Gaia would have been sticking up for Francesca right now.

But the new new Gaia was keeping her mouth shut.

Momentary Lapse of Reason

JAKE MONTONE SPOTTED A BLOND ponytail through the swirling sea of hallway traffic. Just the ponytail he'd been looking for. He'd left three messages on Gaia's machine since she'd freaked out about that cockroach on the phone. Had his ego been more fragile, he would have thought she was avoiding him. The sea of traffic parted, and Jake got a good, long shot of Gaia from a distance. Damn. He had to give himself credit for good taste. The profile of her svelte body, angular face, and plush lips made Jake shake his head in disbelief.
Gaia's so fine.

Jake's eyes expanded their focus to her surroundings. It was the whole FOH squad, fully intact, with the exception of Heather. Then there was Gaia. What was wrong with this picture? A few days ago, when Jake had mentioned the FOHs, Gaia had gagged herself and pretended to retch. Eh?

Jake snuck up to Gaia and poked her on the shoulder.
She flinched so hard, she actually jumped back. She turned around and shot Jake a death glare.

“Down, girl!” Jake said. “It's just me, Jake. Remember?”

“Don't sneak up on me like that,” Gaia said, looking legitimately angry.

“Sorrrry.” Jake put his arm around Gaia and pulled her close. He made his best aren't-I-cute smile. “Nice to see you, too, sunshine.”

Gaia's scowl brightened into a half smile. Jake let go of her shoulder and looked at the FOHs. They were staring. They had obviously been enraptured by his little interaction with Gaia. Their expressions betrayed a combination of disgust and intrigue of the watching-animals-at-the-zoo variety.

“Hey, ladies!” Jake said. He had found that the FOHs could be overwhelmed by boldness. “Wassa happenin'?”

“Not much,” Megan said.

“Hey, Jake,” Tammie said.

There had been a time when he had hung out with the FOHs a lot. They were all attractive, in the external sense at least, and they were always arranging coffee dates and parties. So it was convenient to be in their good graces and kind of fun. But ever since he and Gaia had returned from Russia, the FOHs' vapidity had become somewhat unbearable. He had recently read
Atlas Shrugged
and
The Brothers Karamazov
in English class, and they had affected his worldview.
They'd made him realize life was too short to waste on superficial conversations with people obsessed only with money, fashion, gossip, and prestige.

Jake turned to the left so that only Gaia could see his face. He gave her a pregnant look and shook his thumb like a hitchhiker—what he assumed was the international sign for
Let's jet.
Gaia looked confused. “Can we go?” he whispered.

Gaia nodded and smiled. She turned to address the FOHs. “Okay. Well, I guess I'll see you later. I have to get to class. Bye.”

They all said good-byes. Jake turned to Gaia as they walked away. “You're gonna get to class, huh? That was real sly. They totally went for it. You know, since first period doesn't start for twenty minutes…”

“Ha ha,” Gaia said.

“So where were you last night?” Jake said. “I called.”

“Sorry about that…” Gaia shrugged. “I went to bed way early. I turned my ringer down—must not have heard it. I was just in a weird mood yesterday. Girl stuff, you know.”

“Right,” Jake said. “You can always claim girl stuff, and there's nothing us guys can say.”

“You could always go the sympathy route,” Gaia said. “We like sympathy. That's like the third thing they teach you in Scoring Chicks 101. I thought a big stud like you would know that.”

“Awww, honey…,” Jake said in a fake syrupy tone.
“I'm so sorry about your girl problems. Being a guy, I can't begin to imagine how it feels, but I'm sure it's awful. You just lie here, and I'll bring you some chocolate-covered bonbons.”

“Being a smart-ass will get you nowhere.”

Jake knew that this banter, while endlessly amusing, was a cover-up for the “real” conversation they should be having. The one about their relationship and whether or not they should be taking it to the next level. The one that had been deferred indefinitely when they'd been attacked in the park, and that she'd promised to talk about in a recent e-mail. But he was sick of being the one to instigate a conversation about commitment It wasn't a role he was accustomed to in relationships. Especially since it had seemed like Gaia had been avoiding him recently. Maybe if he turned the conversation toward a semiserious topic one that had actually been plaguing him, it would be a nice segue into a State of the Relationship address.

He stopped in the middle of the hallway and grabbed Gaia firmly by the shoulders. “I was wondering, Gaia. Are you all right? Because I've been noticing a pattern of very un-Gaia-like behavior. First you screech on the phone because of a cockroach. Then you pass out and turn your phone off because of girl problems. And now I find you hanging in the hallway with the ferocious Friends of Heather, who you claim to despise.”

“Yeah…” Gaia caught Jake's eyes and then looked down. “I mean, no. I'm okay. I promise.”

“All right,” Jake said. “Because I know you're not the type to put your inner life out there on display. I know I would have to fish for it. But I hope you at least feel comfortable talking to me about stuff.”

“I do.”

“Are you bummed with me for making fun of you about that whole cockroach thing?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?” Jake hated when she got like this—all one-word nonanswers and no eye contact.

Gaia gritted her teeth and groaned. “Jake.” She grabbed his arm and they started walking again. “I'm fine. I had a momentary lapse of reason, but I'm back I was in a funk all yesterday and decided to just wait it out at home alone. That way no one else gets polluted by my dark mentality, most of all you….”

“Hmmm,” Jake said. “I see.”

Gaia shouldered Jake playfully, but hard enough to knock him off balance. Huh? He flashed her a sideways look, and saw that Gaia was standing with her hands on her hips. “But like I said, I'm back. So don't start thinking I've turned into some little girly girl.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake dropped his backpack. There's the Gaia we all know and love. “So you wanna go then?”

“Come on.” Gaia beckoned him with her finger. “Bring it.”

Her serious tone took Jake off guard. He crouched into a fight stance and put up his hands. They shuffled
sideways in a semicircle, mirroring each other's movements. Gaia made a little swat at Jake's head. He blocked it with his forearm. “Wait,” Jake said. “Are you serious?”

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