Read Online Normal by Francine Pascal - Free Book Online Page B

passion.
    Now it ought to be crystal clear who Ed was thinking about tonight. He wasn’t thinking about Gaia, he was thinking about Kaia.
    Kai. He was thinking about Kai.

home sweet home
    Another false home—another room with another bed, for a short while, until things changed again.
    Headaches and Homelessness
    THE TAXICAB WAS FAIRLY NEW. THAT was good, because Gaia felt sick. Nothing too major—just a headache—but she was grateful for the clean vinyl smell and the fresh New York air blowing into the cab. The driver wasn’t making things any more pleasant—he was madly speeding up and slowing down—but Gaia could take it.
    â€œHow are you feeling?” Jake asked.
    Gaia didn’t feel like answering. She was tired, and her head hurt. She had her eyes closed, with her head resting on the smooth flaps of the cardboard box in her lap. She said, “Mmm,” and hoped he would understand: not great, but fine.
    Jake’s hand squeezed her shoulder for a second and then pulled away. He understood. She didn’t want to talk. He also understood that she’d hurt her arm; Gaia could tell by the gentle way he touched her. She was beginning to like that about Jake: he caught on to things. He didn’t make a big deal about it, but he kept his eyes open.
    Just a few boxes, Gaia thought. That’s all my life comes down to, really.
    It was true. She had her clothes—really just acollection of worn-out T-shirts, sweatshirts, and jeans—and what passed for her “toiletries” and a few pairs of shoes, all in a garbage bag on her lap. Jake, next to her, held another, heavier box, with her school-books and a few other things. He had insisted on taking the heavy box, and Gaia hadn’t stopped him. He had a point: after that crazy, inexplicable fight she still felt weak. In the cab’s trunk were two more boxes. And that was it. That was all it took to relocate Gaia Moore from East Seventy-second Street to her new home.
    â€œStill got that headache?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œThat was one hell of a fight.” Jake was keeping his voice low—but he sounded almost excited. He wanted to talk about that freak show. “How could they move like that? The guy who tried to stab me was so fast. ”
    He sure was, Gaia thought. Any faster and you’d be dead.
    â€œWe creamed them, though,” Jake went on. “Two against—what was it, seven ? I mean, I’d give us a pretty high score, given the odds.”
    â€œEight,” Gaia said. She wanted him to stop talking, but she couldn’t say that. “It was eight. And we barely made it, Jake. What the hell were they on? What was their deal ?”
    â€œSo how would you score us?”
    â€œI wouldn’t, ” Gaia said, sitting up straight and looking at him. “I don’t keep score. This isn’t a game !” It’s my life, she thought bitterly. Assassins and headaches and homelessness and welcome to it. “You almost got killed, Jake. This wasn’t some sparring exercise.”
    â€œAll right.” Jake had his hand back on her shoulder. His head was backlit by the streetlights; she could see his chiseled profile as he glanced at her. “All right, sorry.”
    â€œI didn’t mean to snap at you,” Gaia said. “But that freaked me out, Jake. Those kids were so messed up. Did you see their eyes? And the stuff they were yelling about ‘God’?”
    â€œThat was crazy,” Jake said. He was leaning forward, looking at the buildings they were passing. Gaia realized she’d hurt his feelings. He was adrenalized and injured, and he wanted to have a bonding conversation about their side-by-side fighting skills, like they were some kind of dynamic duo. It wasn’t his fault. It was all new to him.
    And there’s fear, she reminded herself. He got scared. This is how he deals with it—acting like it was a PlayStation game and