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Except I don't buy it.

I really have no idea why, but I'm convinced that something's up, that something's happening right in front of me and I can't see what it is. And whatever that thing is, it's putting Gaia in some kind of danger.

And that just changes the rules. If she's in danger, I've got to do something. No matter how much the rules say differently—the boy-girl rules.

Why an e-mail, anyway? Why not a face-to-face statement or even a phone call?

As if she couldn't face me with the news? As if it was a lie?

I don't want to believe that-but I have to face the possibility. And if it
is
a lie, then she's
really
telling me to back off. . . and I've just got to do it.

Unless she needs my help.

And I just have this crazy feeling that's possible. I can't get the idea out of my head—I know something's wrong.

Really wrong.

And before things get worse, I've got to see her. I've
got
to. That's all.

Inappropriate Touching

JAKE CROSSED BANK STREET, MOVING
toward the front of the Collingwood Residency Hall. It was exactly as he remembered it from three nights before—from the night he'd helped Gaia pack her boxes and move in.

Somehow that seemed like a different century. Like it was immeasurably long ago and everything had changed.

Jake sprinted up the boardinghouse steps. The street was quiet and cool—it had been dark for a while, and the night air beneath the dark trees had finally lost its daytime heat. The orange streetlight shone down like before, illuminating Collingwood's wide, clean steps.

Jake rang the doorbell.

I'll just ask to talk to her.
Jake was sure that the lady in charge here—the Japanese lady—wouldn't mind. Was it so much to ask?

He could hear movement inside the building. Footsteps got louder, approaching the door. Looking up at the building, he could see the bedroom windows; they were all dark.

With a loud unlatching noise, the door swung open.

The Japanese lady stood there. She was smiling ferociously, wearing a dark gray business suit. Jake tried, but he couldn't remember her name.

“Yes?” the woman said expectantly.

“Hi,” Jake said. “I'm Jake Montone; we met before, three nights ago. I'm Gaia Moore's friend.”

“Yes?”

The woman didn't move. She didn't welcome him in, or step aside, or close the door. She just stood there, smiling tightly.

“Look, is she here? I need to talk to her.”

“But you may not,” the woman said firmly. “I'm sorry, that is the rule. It is too late; we have a curfew here.”

“But—”

“And anyway, boys are not allowed. Here at Collingwood we have very strict regulations.”

Jake took a deep breath. He was just so sick of this. He was so damn tired of all the obstacles he had to deal with all the time. It was just so easy to prevent a teenage boy from getting what he wanted. It was actually the reason he liked fighting. While sparring, you didn't have to take no for an answer.

Jake was reminded suddenly of Oliver Moore, Gaia's uncle. Now there was a man who could get things done. Who was old enough and smart enough to get results—who wouldn't let someone like this woman get in his way.

“Look,” Jake said, in what he hoped was a sufficiently polite, reasonable tone. “Ma'am, I understand and respect that you've got rules. I think discipline's very important. And ordinarily I wouldn't dream of disrupting this place. But this is an unusual situation.
I'm not asking for the moon here. I'm just asking you to let me in for five minutes to talk to Gaia. And after that we'll—”

“Not allowed,” the woman answered. She was shaking her head. “I am so sorry, but it is not allowed.”

“But—”

“Good night,” the woman said. She swung the door shut, and Jake was left standing atop the Collingwood steps in the dark.

Damn it.

Jake was disgusted with himself. He had walked all the way over here, all full of good ideas. . . and he'd accomplished nothing. He didn't even know if Gaia was
here
or not. He'd been completely useless.

“Pssst!”

Jake froze. He didn't move a muscle; he held his breath. There was no sound but the distant traffic and the drone of air conditioners. Plain New York sounds. He strained, trying to hear movement around him.

And he did. A rustling sound.

“Pssst!”
The same voice again. This time with a clattering sound.
“Hey, you!”

A female voice. Whispering.

Below
him.

“Me?” Jake whispered quietly. He still hadn't moved. He was getting ready to turn around as fast as he could.

“Yes, you! Joe Stud. I have no idea what your name is.”
An endless giggle followed.

Jake thought he recognized the voice. It was hard to tell—the girl was whispering, after all—but there was something familiar about it.

“Down here,”
the girl whispered.
“Under the stairs.”

Under—?

Jake moved his head. And once he did, he saw light. Yellow light, spilling out onto Collingwood's stone facade. Slowly he stepped over to the side of the staircase and looked down toward the light. He moved carefully, ready to pull his head back in a moment if it was a trick of some kind.

Jake stared down past the edge of the staircase.

A small basement window was down there, along the side of the staircase. It was very small—you could easily miss it. A single bright yellow light shone inside the building.

And Jake could see a face looking up at him. A girl—a teenage girl—with very pretty features and long blond hair.

“Hi.”
The girl smiled.

“Hi.”
Jake was confused. He recognized the girl, though. He'd met her before, the night that Gaia had moved in. She had a strange, one-syllable name. . .
Zan.
That was it.

“Get down here,”
Zan whispered.

Jake turned around and descended the stairs. He saw the way he had to vault over the low stone wall,
landing on the concrete embankment that was sunk a few feet below sidewalk level. There were garbage cans that smelled of teriyaki, and a small iron grate. . . and a recessed door. Zan stepped through the door, her yellow hair strewn messily around her face, smiling at him.

He came closer.

“Hi, Zan,” he said. “How are you?”

“Good,” Zan said. She smiled a wide smile. “I am so ludicrously good right now, it's not even funny. What's your name again?”

“Jake.”

“Jake.”
She laughed. “God, yes, you are such a Jake. You are
all Jake.”
Zan grasped Jake's arms and began to run her hands down them slowly to test for firmness. Jake quickly slipped his arms from her grasp with an uncomfortable laugh.

“Oops.” She smiled, leaning her face in closer.
“Inappropriate touching.
My bad—”

“Um, listen,” Jake interrupted, taking a step back from Zan's
extremely friendly
energy. “I wonder if you can help me, Zan. I'm looking for Gaia Moore. Is she here?”

Zan took a good long look at Jake's face. “Jake,” she announced, “I think it's important that you know: You are just an exquisite man. I mean it. Exquisite.
Magnifique.
I speak French.” Zan laughed heartily at her own comic stylings. “Now, come on—what about me?” Zan stepped back, flipped her hair
with a grand gesture, and froze in a supermodel position for Jake's approval. “Do you get my heat?” She grinned, just barely holding off her next massive giggle. “Are you feeling my heat, Jacob?” She swiped her fingers at him like cat claws, and then she pounced, throwing her arms around Jake's waist and moving way past the appropriate facial boundaries.

“Ho!” Jake uttered with deep discomfort. “You are so very clearly on Ecstasy right now.” Once again he was forced to peel Zan's hands from his body.

“Yes, and you are so very clearly
not,
” Zan said, toying with Jake as she dared him to guess where the next hand was coming from.

Jake was running out of patience fast. He would give it one more try and that would be that. “Look. . . is Gaia here? Gaia Moore. Moved in the other night. Messy blond hair, sweatshirt. You know.”

“Yes, I
know.
” Zan groaned. “I heard you the first time. Hey, I have the perfect solution here.” She grinned again. “Why don't we go inside and wait for her, Jacob? I'll give you one hit now and then by the time Gaia gets home, we'll have an official party. Is that not genius?” Zan grasped Jake's hand and began to drag him farther inside. Jake had to use a considerable amount of force to put on the brakes.

“No,”
Jake complained. “No party, Zan. I don't go
near that stuff. And neither should you. Your brain is going to turn into—”

“No, Jacob, this is the
good stuff,
” Zan insisted. “This is grade A, my friend. Straight from a lab in Cali. This is not that IV crap.”

“What?”

“In. . .
vince,
” Zan said. “You know—IV. The nasty stuff. That crap they're selling in the park. This isn't that. This is pure.”

Jake froze for a moment.

Invince.

He started to flash back to voices in the darkness.

Oh God, my head. My freaking head.

It's dead Gaia night!

Jake began to remember. The cut on his chest. . . the bruise on his forehead.

“Zan,” he said, “listen to me, okay? This is good Ecstasy, you said. . . not the IV stuff?”

“Best on the market,” Zan assured him, tugging again to pull him inside. But Jake held his ground.

“Zan, what do you know about the bad stuff? The. . . Invince? Zan, come
on,
let go of me and
talk.
This is
important.
”

Zan let out a frustrated groan and threw Jake's arm back at him. “God, what
ever
,” she complained. “If you don't want to come up,
fine.
What do you think I am, the loneliest girl in the world or something?
What
ever
.” Zan swung around and headed back inside.

“No, Zan, wait. What about—?”

“She's gone,” Zan grunted. “Your
girlfriend.
I have no idea where.”

“With her father?”

“I have
no
idea. Get a
life,
Jacob.” Zan shut the door behind her and flipped off the light.

“Wait, Zan!”

But that was that. She was gone. And Jake was alone in the dark, in the shadows next to the building.

What the hell?

Gaia wasn't here. Was she with her father? Zan hadn't told him.

But she had told him
something.
The kids who had attacked him and Gaia. . . he knew they had to be on something, he just hadn't been able to figure out
what.
Until now. Invince.

Jake was worried. More than ever, he wanted to know where Gaia was. Climbing carefully back onto the sidewalk, taking pains not to rattle the fragrant garbage cans, he tried to think of some way to find her. . . to make sure she was all right.

He couldn't think of a thing.

And he was convinced, more than ever, and for no reason he could name, that she wasn't all right at all. That she was in danger.

Completely in Love

POINTLESS SMILE NUMBER TEN.
That is what Ed and Kai had been reduced to on this, their big romantic date at La Métairie. Zero conversation and ten pointless silent smiles in a row.

But it was Ed's own fault and he knew it. He had decided to try and put as much energy into this gesture as he possibly could. He'd tried to arrange and execute the romantic date that Kai had been not so subtly pushing for in the last few days. But some part of him had always known. He'd known it was going to be a bust. He'd known it before he'd even made the reservation. And Kai knew it, too. Maybe she wasn't as quick to admit it. Maybe she didn't even want to admit it to herself, but this whole thing simply was not them. The restaurant was not them. Ed's stupid Gap sweater was not him, and Kai's little black cocktail dress wasn't her. The fancy food they'd ordered wasn't them; the dinner conversation they'd painstakingly tried to forge wasn't them. But really, it all came down to one simple fact that Ed was getting dangerously close to announcing yet again.

Romance was not them.

As much as he wanted it to be, as much as she wanted it to be, no amount of wanting could change the immutable nature of chemistry. And Ed's bizarre,
part-cathartic/part-heartbreaking run-in with Gaia at the park had only driven that point home.

Ed knew why he'd pushed for the date tonight. He'd done it just to make a point to himself after seeing Gaia. To prove that he could be just as happy with Kai as Gaia could be with Jake. After all, if Gaia could make this mysterious “big change” for Jake, the least Ed could do was make dinner reservations with Kai.

But facts were facts. Ed could no longer be with Gaia, and he understood and respected that wholeheartedly. But that didn't change the fact that he was still completely in love with her. Apparently nothing was going to change that fact. Not for a very, very long time. Far longer than Kai or any other girl would or should be willing to wait.

And in truth, no matter what Kai said at dinner, Gaia was all Ed could think about.
The big change.
What the hell was she talking about? If he'd thought that Gaia gave two craps about her appearance, he would have sworn they were talking about something as shallow as breast implants or a nose job. But there was simply no way in hell that Gaia would ever be thinking for two seconds about such nonsense. And breast implants sure as hell were not going to remove all the endless tragedies in her life. So what, then? What on earth was she talking about?