Sex (11 page)

ED

You know, I'd honestly seen our whole future while I was looking for butter at the A&P. It's true. I had it all planned out. Right after breakfast, I was going to take Gaia to the street fair on Avenue A. I'd pictured us doing that New York couple
slow walk
down the street. We'd look at imitation designer sunglasses, and horrible club-music mix tapes, and giant collections of copper farm animals. I don't know…. I'd just pictured us
as a couple. A real couple with this big, long future.

So I grabbed the butter, a gallon of milk, some maple syrup, a fresh box of Bisquick, and, of course, the quintessential breakfast-in-bed rose. And then…

I don't know…. I don't understand it. Somewhere between my getting shot at and walking through my door, Gaia just decided to rip out my heart and eat it for breakfast instead of the pancakes.

The question is, do I believe everything she said to me or not? Do I believe that she really thinks what we did was a mistake? Do I believe that she really doesn't feel “that way” about me? I mean, honestly, could my life be such a miserable confounding joke that five or six hours into our relationship, Gaia would
end
the relationship? After all the things she'd said to me? After all the time I'd waited for this to happen?

See, if I
did
believe everything she'd said to me, then I
wouldn't be in purgatory right now, I'd be in hell. Plain old hell. And then I could officially begin my new life as the most depressed son of a bitch in the entire Village School. I'd no longer be known as “Shred,” but rather something more along the lines of “Bed,” because I'd hardly ever leave mine. Or maybe they'd just call me “Dead,” because, for all intents and purposes, that's what I'd be. Maybe I'd even get back into the chair just because walking required too much energy. At least that's a pathetic existence I could understand. Something I could learn to live with.

But like I said, I've been mulling it over, and the problem is,
I still don't believe her.
I still think there's some kind of hidden agenda here that she's keeping from me. Something about seeing me almost get shot or something I know absolutely nothing about that's making her lie.

To tell the truth, I think I'm
pissed. I mean as pissed as I can be at someone I'm madly in love with. I'm pissed at her for not trusting me with whatever is really on her mind. For kicking my feelings around like a soccer ball just because she's too afraid to tell me something. For leaving me here in purgatory.

So after twenty-four hours of doing nothing but pacing, I've made a decision: It's confrontation time. I need the truth. If I have to squeeze it out of her, then so be it, but I need to know. Because she owes it to me. Just based on our friendship alone, she owes it to me. And even if it turns out that all those horrible things she said were true, I'd still like to know that for sure. Because if I'm going to be living in hell… I'd at least like to plan ahead.

She might as well have had the phrase “I have a crush on Ed” embroidered on all her perfect little Calvin Klein outfits.

urban not—so—chic

ED COULDN'T REMEMBER SITTING IN a room so somber and silent since his accident. That's what Gaia's apartment felt like. A hospital waiting room. A place where all the family gathered and prayed that their loved ones had lived through the night. Of course all they were waiting for this morning was a simple phone call from Gaia Moore. But when Gaia was involved, the possibility of sudden death never seemed that far-fetched.

Unadulterated Agony

He couldn't even believe this was his second morning vigil with Gaia's phony family in just the last few days. The last time, Natasha had been a tad more relaxed about it. At least she'd pretended to be. She'd even served Ed cookies while they waited. But this morning she wasn't even bothering to fake a smile. This morning she looked downright anxious.

Tatiana didn't exactly seem all that concerned. She was sitting quietly at the dining table with her books in her lap, looking over one of her papers for school. But Ed and Natasha were sitting on the living-room couch, quite literally waiting by the phone, which Natasha had brought over to the coffee table so that it might be grabbed within the first ring.

“I don't understand it,” Natasha said, staring at the phone. “I don't understand why she must do this.”

Ed shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes pinned to the phone as well. “I think I've understood about ten to twelve percent of anything she's ever done.”

“Yes, this is exactly right,” Natasha agreed. “Why do you think she is like this, Ed? Why do you think she runs from people this way? Does she not understand that there are people in her life who love her more than anything in the world? More than they care for themselves? Who make all the choices in their life only so that she might be happy?”

Amen.
Ed couldn't have possibly said it better himself. Natasha probably wasn't even referring to him, but boy, did that nail it on the head. Gaia seemed so utterly lonely so much of the time. But whenever she was alone with Ed, all her darkest thoughts seemed to drift away. Didn't they? Was he just making that up in his head? It had to be at least partially true. So, given that she always seemed less lonely when she was with him,
why did she always end up running away?
It was totally counterintuitive. And these little morning gatherings had made it quite clear that her surrogate family was suffering the same fate.

Ed was baffled as to why Gaia would run from
Natasha and Tatiana, who were, as far as he could tell, two of the nicest people he'd ever met. Again, it just made no sense. What could she possibly see in them that was so threatening?

Of course, the whole time Ed had watched Gaia deal with Natasha… There was that to consider. Ed had thought that Gaia's being in a State of paranoid dementia might have had something to do with her desperate need to stay away from Natasha. But now that Gaia had regained her sanity…

Well. Maybe that was the real question. Was Gaia back to normal or not? Because judging from the way she was dealing with Ed… at least as far as Ed was concerned, the sanity question was still way up in the air.

Natasha turned to Ed and breathed out a long sigh. “Ed…”

“Yeah?”

“Ed, if she were to ever return again—”

“Hold up, now,” Ed said, forging a half smile. “I don't think she's gone for good.”
Do I?

“Well, no,” Natasha said. “I don't want to believe this, either. This is why I want to ask you…
When
she returns… maybe, you might tell her…”

“Tell her what?” Ed asked.

“Tell her that Tatiana and I are
good,”
she said, widening her large brown eyes. “We are good, loving
people, Ed. Tell her that she needs to
trust
me so that I might take care of her. And Tatiana also. So that Tatiana might look after her as well.”

Ed's eyes darted over to Tatiana just in time to see her rolling her eyes with an inaudible huff.

“Well… sure,” Ed said with a kind but useless shrug. “I'll tell her.” What Natasha didn't seem to understand was that Gaia would need to trust
him
before he could convince her to trust someone else. And her trust in Ed was yet another issue that seemed to be flying somewhere way up in the air.

“Thank you, Ed,” Natasha said, turning her attention back to the phone. “You are a good person.”

“Yeah, well…” Ed thought they were going back into stare-at-the-phone mode, but Natasha suddenly turned to him again.

“Ed… as long as we are becoming friends waiting by the phone here, perhaps I might ask you a question that is too honest?”

Ed didn't exactly understand what she meant, but he couldn't see the harm in it. “Sure.”

“Okay.” She smiled, shifting her whole body in his direction and meeting his eyes. “I have heard that you and Gaia are good friends. That is what you have been called. ‘Good friends.'”

“By whom?”

“I think you avoid the upcoming question.” She smiled again.

“Oh…,” Ed replied, not sure if that's what he was doing.

“So, yes,” Natasha went on, “you are ‘good friends,' yet the other morning I saw Gaia when she came from your house. I was sure you two had been quarreling because she was so upset. More upset than any girl would be after quarreling with a ‘good friend.' And the last time I saw you here… that very, very horrible afternoon… I distinctly remember Gaia referring to you as her
‘boy
friend.' This is very different. So, perhaps you will tell me, honestly now… which is it? Is she your friend? Or your girlfriend?”

Ed now felt thoroughly sick to his stomach. It was hard enough asking himself this question ten thousand times a minute. It was even worse asking Gaia. But saying the answer out loud… having to hear the answer echo through this very large apartment and settle into Natasha's ears…. That was just sheer unadulterated agony-Ed's stock-in-trade for the last twenty-four hours. But there was, of course, only one answer.

“I don't know,” he said with a simple shrug and a desperate smile. “I really don't know.”

The room seemed unbelievably silent for a moment. A long painful moment. And then…

“Well, if you don't know,” Natasha said, “then it is clear to me that Gaia has made a very large mistake, Ed.”

Amen again, Natasha. Amen and hallelujah.

GEN HADN'T BEEN KIDDING WHEN she'd said they would eat like queens. How could one eat like a queen in New York City for free? It could only be done after midnight, but it could be done. At least, when one was with Gen, it could. Apparently one of the great advantages of living in this rich folks' ghost town was that all the restaurants closed so early. This meant that all the overnight restaurant trash was available for much longer periods. Yes, trash. They ate trash. Of course, garbage wasn't Gaia's idea of a gourmet dinner, but Gen had introduced her to a whole new world. The world of gourmet garbage. Upper East Side garbage was better than most of the regular food on Eighth Street. Gen had taken Gaia on a tour of the absolute finest after-hours garbage the Upper East Side had to offer.

Savior

Their first course had come fresh out of the trash behind the kitchen of Kan-Pai, a sushi restaurant on Seventy-seventh and Third, where they'd thrown out whole buckets of perfectly good edamame, hijiki, and white rice. Then Gaia had followed Gen through a veritable obstacle course of ripped-open fences, fire escape ladders, and loose basement doors, until they'd arrived behind the kitchen of Bella Donna, one of the finer Italian establishments in the city. Gen showed Gaia the window that no one ever seemed to lock. It led straight into the kitchen. And even though Gaia
wasn't a particular fan of breaking and entering, if the crime was simply taking some delicious homemade bread and dipping it in a scrumptious cold puttanesca sauce… then let her be guilty.

For dessert, Gen introduced Gaia to the Dumpster behind the Gardenia restaurant, where entire pies were discarded still in their boxes and most important…
boxes of doughnuts.
Gaia had chowed down on three just barely stale chocolate glazed doughnuts and then washed them down at six in the morning with free coffee provided by a vendor on Lexington Avenue whom Gen had obviously flirted into complete submission . All in all, though it had taken hours to complete the mission, it was the best meal Gaia had eaten in weeks, especially when combined with the thrill of the hunt.

Not to mention the good company. Not only was Gen funny and completely insane, but her similarities to Mary had made her more endearing to Gaia by the minute. Even the streak of red hair reminded her of Mary, though it was the fakest red Gaia had ever seen.

Gen and Mary shared a certain “screw them all” quality that seemed to bring Gaia to life. And considering how little of a life she had left, that was a much needed boost. It was something about their attitude. Gen had the same ability as Mary to get Gaia to do things she simply never would have done in a million years—namely, to have fun, to actually have
fun.
In
fact, even Mary probably wouldn't have been able to get Gaia to eat doughnuts from a Dumpster. Even if they were in a box in the Dumpster. Even if they were chocolate glazed.

The only problem was the other very unfortunate similarity between them. All you had to do was change a few names. Heroin instead of cocaine. Casper instead of Skizz.

Skizz.
Even thinking the name of Mary's dealer and murderer sent a flow of vengeful bile up Gaia's throat. She would have killed him if she'd had the chance. Unfortunately someone else had gotten to him first.

Gaia had worked hard to let go of all her poisonous anger toward Skizz. It had been eating up her insides for a very long time. And she'd been pretty sure she'd finally overcome it. she'd been pretty sure she'd moved on. But the minute she and Gen had started talking about Casper, all kinds of feelings had started to pop up again. Nagging memories of Skizz's ugly face—all the bitterness and rage she'd thought she'd flushed away.

“So Casper's your dealer?” Gaia asked, thinking about the first time she'd talked to Mary about Skizz.

They were walking back in the direction of the Seventy-second Street apartment, holding tight to their free coffees. The morning sun was blinding, especially after having stayed up all night foraging in the dark like a couple of urban not-so-chic raccoons.

Gen blew a puff of smoke into the air. “Sometimes
he's my dealer, sometimes he's my boyfriend,” she said looking straight ahead. “It depends on how much money I have and how desperate I am for a fix.”

Gaia cringed internally. Drug addiction made people do such disgusting things. She had no understanding of it whatsoever. Especially considering all that peripheral badness that came with it: dealers, overdoses, violence. What could possibly be the allure of that life? She'd asked that question a thousand times about Mary, and now she'd already found herself asking it about Gen when she barely even knew her. That was a bad sign. Caring too much already. Gaia couldn't forget about clause number three in her letter of resignation.
Don't get too close to anyone.