Exposed (2 page)

Huh?

Lately I've been feeling different. Like a veil has been lifted, a cloud of smoke has cleared, and I'm back in my own body. I don't know what's going on with Skyler—I can't for the life of me put my finger on what interest he has in using me as his own personal puppet. I don't think he wants to be my boyfriend. I don't think he's an undercover spy. I don't think he has the vaguest knowledge of the disparate plot twists that conspire to make my life so difficult. For the life of me, I can't get a handle on his line. But that's okay. I've got my wits about me again, and eventually I'm going to get to the bottom of
this. Because you know what? Somehow I'm not afraid anymore. Whatever Dr. Rodke did to me, I don't think it was permanent. Slowly but surely, I'm regressing back to my usual freakishness. And for the first time, being a freak feels pretty damn good.

No, wait. That's not right.

It feels freakin'
great
.

She really needed, somehow, to make herself care.

inexplicable interest

“SO, BELIEVE IT OR NOT, THE headmaster actually thought—Gaia? Are you even listening?”

Alpha Male

“Huh?” At the sound of her voice Gaia snapped to attention. She realized she hadn't at
all
been listening to Skyler's story, an anecdote of boarding school boys gone wild or some such. Hardy har har. Big yuks. Wet toilet paper everywhere. Try though she might, she couldn't bring herself to care. She needed to, though. She really needed, somehow, to make herself care.

The problem was that now that Dr. Rodke's genetic manipulation seemed to be unraveling, Gaia wasn't finding herself especially dependent on Skyler. More than that, she was wholly suspicious of his interest in her. Now that she was thinking clearly again, she could see how strange it was that he had suddenly decided to take an interest in her, to watch over her, to protect her. He barely knew her, for chrissake. Please—people who
did
know her weren't that interested in her.

Gaia was going to have to get to the bottom of Skyler's inexplicable interest without arousing his suspicions, which meant, at least nominally, maintaining the helpless girlie-girl facade for at least a little longer. And that included feigning interest in his ridiculous stories.

But for how long?

As she envisioned the aging, graying version of herself, sixty years in the future, still patiently listening to Skyler's droning, the germ of an idea began to form in Gaia's mind.

Maybe there was a way to test Skyler, to push him, to see how much he could take before breaking. If she did everything in her power to challenge his patience, and if his tolerance remained boundless, she could know for sure that his motives weren't pure.

“Gaia? Do you not want to be here with me today? All afternoon you've seemed kind of distracted. I really wanted us to just have a fun day together, but if you're not interested, you know, just tell me.” Gaia could hear the edge creep into Skyler's voice. If she was trying to push him, she was succeeding.

Good
, she thought.
But watch it. It's a fine line
.

“I'm sorry, Skyler,” she said, adopting a hasty, self-deprecating tone. “You've planned an amazing day for us. I don't know why I'm so spacey. Please don't take it personally.”

In fact, Skyler had planned a wonderful afternoon. He had picked Gaia up from school that afternoon, taking in stride the fact that she had worn her hair up, even though he'd specifically asked her not to. (That actually hadn't been on purpose—Gaia had simply forgotten.) He had taken her to Gourmet Garage on Seventh Avenue, near her school, where they'd picked
up an array of luscious picnic treats: ripe, meaty olives packed in top-quality olive oil, heady cheeses, thick, crusty breads, and imported chocolates. He had bought a bottle of wine and taken her uptown to Central Park, where they now sat. She generally tended to spend the bulk of her time in Washington Square, so the change in scenery was welcome. It was a perfect, balmy day, and if Gaia hadn't been distracted by deeper concerns, she would have relished it.

But then again, maybe that was a good thing. Skyler certainly wasn't impressed by her inability to focus on him. If she irritated him enough, maybe she could draw him out. “I'm back, I promise,” she asserted. “I want to hear the end of the story.”

“It's okay,” Skyler said reassuringly. “I can imagine it isn't such an interesting story to someone who wasn't there. Or, you know, someone who has emotionally matured beyond the age of twelve.”

“I'm at least thirteen emotionally, so I guess I just missed the cutoff for your target audience.” Gaia laughed. “But I do love a good wet-toilet-paper story.”

“Well, okay,” Skyler resumed. “See, the thing was that I
thought
the door was locked, but Trent—remember he was my roommate, and he was the one who had the rope and the Silly String—Trent had gotten the combination wr—”

“A movie!” Gaia exclaimed suddenly, deliberately
interjecting just as Skyler was warming to his story.
“That's
what we should do later on! I think there's a revival of
Streetcar Named Desire
playing at Film Forum. That'd be awesome.” She glanced sideways at Skyler. Not only had she rather rudely cut him off, but she didn't know
any
manly man his age who would agree to seeing
that
movie.

For a moment she thought she saw Skyler's nostrils flare. She
thought
she saw a glimpse of fury flash across his chiseled face. But just as quickly as it was there, it vanished without a trace and was replaced by an affable grin.

“Is that really what you want to do today, Gaia?” Skyler said, seeming amused at the prospect. “It
is
such a beautiful day, after all. Not that it's a problem or anything. If that's what you want to do, that's what we'll do. Did you happen to notice what times the movie was playing?”

Gaia shook her head emphatically. “Nope. Just read about it in the
Voice
last week. But I was excited about it. It's always been one of my favorite movies.”

This was categorically untrue. While she didn't have anything against the movie per se, it certainly wasn't one of her favorites. She'd seen it once when she was nine.

Skyler glanced at his watch. “Okay, well, maybe we should head on down there and get tickets. It's five now. There's probably a show at seven or eight.
We can kill time at—I don't know, are you hungry?”

Gaia shook her head again and indicated the array of food wrappers and containers littering the space before them on the ground. “Are you kidding?” she asked archly.

“Right, okay. Well, there's a coffee shop on Varick, you know. I think a Starbucks. But I don't mind a big corporate conglomerate.” He winked. After all, Rodke and Simon Pharmaceuticals
was
a big corporate conglomerate. Skyler and his family were the embodiment of The Man. “Or I could take you to Vino, a little wine bar I know of.”

“You sure you don't mind heading
all
the way back downtown again?” Gaia asked, infusing her voice with the plaintive lilt that, alas, she thought Skyler had probably grown accustomed to by now.

Skyler shrugged easily. “Of course not, Gaia. This day is all about you. About
us,”
he corrected, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and hugging her close to him. He gathered up their trash, balled it together into the bottom of a Gourmet Garage bag, and tossed it, hoisting his slim Manhattan Portage messenger bag over his shoulder in one swift motion. “Let's go.”

Thanks to the benefits of the A express, it wasn't twenty minutes later that Gaia and Skyler found themselves standing outside the Film Forum, surveying the crowd. And not a moment too soon, either. As
it turned out, the movie was at six-thirty, and since it was such a popular pick, it was likely to sell out well before then. Gaia mused on the varied cross section of the New York City populace that had turned out on such an outdoorsy day. Punk rockers who looked like they hadn't showered in days stood behind quirky intellectual types whose tortoiseshell glasses sat perched at the tips of their noses. It was funny—Gaia wasn't sure where she stood on the spectrum, but if she fit in somewhere in the world, it was New York City-despite the fact that, or perhaps
because
, she actually
didn't
fit in.

Skyler seemed equally comfortable, equally happy to be having a very Manhattan afternoon, waiting on line outside an artsy movie house with a bunch of true New Yorkers. He didn't seem bothered in the least by Gaia's having broken up their impromptu picnic and dragged them back downtown.

Curious.

“Uh-oh,” she hedged, biting her lip and assuming what she hoped was a woeful demeanor.

Skyler's gaze narrowed. “What?” he asked with more than a hint of annoyance.

“It's just, I forgot my membership card. We could get in for half price.” She widened her eyes at Skyler innocently. “Do you think it'll sell out if I just run home—?”

“Of
course
it'll sell out if you ‘just run home'!” Skyler mimicked impatiently, frustration seeping through his pores. He put his hands on his hips and softened visibly. “Gaia, it's very thoughtful of you to want to get us a discount, but I assure you, I can afford the ticket price. Next time we can use your card.” He took her hand. “This way I get to play the alpha male.”

Gaia shuddered inwardly, but she forced herself to smile back. The alpha male was exactly the problem. “Are you sure? I mean, it's no trouble. I can go back quickly—”

“Even for a superhero like you, Gaia, I think the line is moving a little too fast,” Skyler said, effectively cutting her off. He had managed to sound playful again. A frizzy-haired woman standing in front of them in line shot Gaia a dirty look, suggesting that Gaia was being every bit as annoying as she imagined.

She was proud of her performance. But judging from Skyler's ability to keep his cool, it was clear that she had her work cut out for her. “You've been so understanding today, Skyler,” Gaia practically cooed as they closed the gap between themselves and the ticket window. “You're so understanding every day.” She wasn't entirely sure how to bat her eyelashes or she would have.

“No problem, Gaia,” Skyler said sincerely. “That's what I'm here for.” He slapped his wallet down onto
the ticket seller's counter. “Two for the six-thirty show,” he said.

“Oh!” Gaia shouted suddenly, as if she'd just had an incredibly random thought.

Skyler glanced at her warily. “What now?” he asked. His voice was light, but he did seem increasingly impatient.

“I, uh, really wanted some candy.”

Skyler's gaze turned from hesitant to incredulous. “Well, good thing you're in the
movie theater,”
he said slowly, “because I think they're equipped to handle your concession needs.”

Gaia tilted her head to one side and stuck out her lower lip. “Come on. This is Film Forum. It's not like the local multiplex. They're not going to have any of the really good junky stuff. I think they only have muffins and croissants. Ten-dollar croissants,” she added.

“Well, if you want a ten-dollar croissant, Gaia, that's fine. I mean, I have the cash. Not a big deal.” Gaia had been sure this last little display would trigger at least a tiny crack in Skyler's composure. But no such luck.

“You're getting robbed blind here today,” Gaia protested. “And I really have a sugar jones. I meant to stop off at a deli on the way here and pick up provisions, but I guess it slipped my mind.”

“Weren't you
just
saying that you weren't hungry
because you ate so much in the park?” Skyler pointed out in a sudden fit of rationalism.

“Well, yeah, but it, uh, came on kinda quickly. Look,” Gaia wheedled, “I'll just run across the street. You won't even miss me.” She started toward the front door of the theater, aware that their little “lovers' spat” was drawing some local interest. As she passed by Skyler, she stomped on his foot “accidentally” for good measure. “Oops, sorry.” She giggled.

“Gaia!” Skyler called after her, but the door was already swinging shut behind her.

“I'll get you some Maltesers,” Gaia called over her shoulder. She had no idea how he even felt about Maltesers, and she was pretty sure he couldn't have cared less about them at the present time.

THREE HOURS, ONE TUB OF ARTIFICIAL-butter-flavored popcorn, one large Coke, and a bag of M&M's later, Gaia and Skyler strolled down Houston Street arm in arm, each slurping the dregs of an overpriced Starbucks espresso drink. Gaia gave a large gulp as she tossed her empty venti cup into the closest street trash can. “I do love a sugar rush,” she asserted, qualifying the statement with a shy giggle.

Normal Circumstances
“That much is obvious,” Skyler said affectionately, finishing up his drink and tossing it as well. “I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Gaia beamed. Skyler had been the perfect date all afternoon—too perfect. He had been smooth as satin no matter how many times she had tuned out while he was talking or interrupted him. He had agreed to whatever whim had struck her fancy. He hadn't complained when she crawled over him
again
during the movie under the premise of taking her fourth and final bathroom break.

No doubt about it, something was definitely up with Skyler.

Despite the fact that most of his plans involved having her at his side at all times, Gaia was more certain than ever that his goals weren't romantic. If Skyler'd had designs on her, he had also passed up some totally primo opportunities to put the moves on her. It had to be something worse than that, something more nefarious. And now that Gaia was certain something was up, she was finding herself eager—even excited—to get to the bottom of it.