Shock Read Free

Stopping about five feet away, his skateboard tucked under his arm, he stood there uncertainly.
    â€œWhat’s up,” he said.
    â€œNothing,” she answered, not looking at him.
    Gaia’s skin felt like it was on fire. The last time she’d seen Ed, he’d been standing on the sidewalk, half drunk, calling her a liar and a cheater and demanding she stay the hell away from him. Her guts turned into a colony of cockroaches, skittering around inside her. She wanted nothing more than to just go back to being friends. But the way he’d spoken to her last night? That wasn’t just going to go away. And she had to be honest: She had lied to him. Having Sam show up out of the blue had really knocked her for a loop, and she had been lying to Ed when she’d said she didn’t have feelings for Sam anymore. That made her feel horribly guilty. Like maybe Ed was right for wanting to keep his distance. Like maybe she needed to be on her own until she sorted out her unbelievably annoying jumble of emotions.
    â€œSo how’s Sam,” he said, as if he’d been reading her mind and the guilty feelings that were blotched all over it. He was convinced she’d been canoodling with Sam behind his back.
    â€œI don’t know. I haven’t seen him,” she told him, emphasizing the last half of her sentence.
    No need to tell him that he’d just tried to kill her. And no need to tell him that before that, Sam Moon’s return to the land of the living had made her feel confused. Still, as far as Gaia was concerned, she hadn’t done anything about her confusion—that was what counted. And Ed was supposed to trust her. And he didn’t. Which was why she was pissed.
    â€œSo, I’m doing a skateboard clinic as part of intramural week,” he said.
    â€œUh-huh,” she murmured. No congratulations, no questions—not even a little bit of teasing about how he was joining in with the school-spirit masses.
    This was so WEIRD. Like a new reality show: When Best Friends Go Bad. They didn’t speak to each other like this. Except they did now. Gaia felt horrible. But this conversation had to end. She needed him to get away from her, fast.
    â€œYeah. I thought it’d be fun,” Ed said. It was a limp, nondescript sentence, and it plopped onto the floor between them and lay there. For Gaia the silence that followed was full of unspoken accusations. You can’t be part of anything, you freak, he seemed to say. Like a family. Like a couple. Like anything you desperately want and won’t let yourself have. It stung to hear him say it—stung for the words to be there, sandwiched between the lines in glaring, accusing, ten-foot-high red letters. Without another word Gaia turned back to her locker, hoping he wouldn’t see the slight tremble of her chin as she listened to his sneakers squeak down the hall away from her like the turns of a screwdriver driving a rusty screw deep into the soft flesh of her heart.
    Gaia
    I wish I didn’t have buttons. The same way I don’t have fear. I wish nobody could push my buttons the way Ed does, making me feel like everything I do is wrong and useless and mean. I wish that nothing would infuriate me, or make me feel insecure, or rattle my cage.
    It’s my fault, though. If I hadn’t shown Ed where my buttons were, he wouldn’t be able to push them.
    I thought I was okay, not being close to anyone. I thought I had taught myself not to wish for what I can’t have. After my mother died and my father took off, I shut myself off. Personally, I think it was a pretty impressive feat for a kid that young. After a while I didn’t know what I was missing.
    Well, now I know, don’t I? What I’m missing.
    Being close to Ed felt like…what did it feel like? It wasn’t like he was my other half or anything doofy like that. Plato had this whole thing in the Symposium about how everyone used to be