Free Wired by Francine Pascal Page A

kidding? That’s awesome.” He wasn’t going to
have
to hold his breath. Excellent.
    â€œWe’ve called your parents. They’ll be here in an hour or so to check you out and take you home. There are some papers they need to fill out for you to be released. In the meantime, you can collect your belongings. And do let me know if you need anything else.” The doctor smiled, readjusted his stethoscope, and left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
    Ed really didn’t have too much to pack; he’d just change back into the clean set of clothes his mother had left for him. He’d already read and reread all of the magazines more times than he’d wanted to—they were more than ready for the recycling bin. But there was no pressing need to leap out of bed and get to gathering, so he lay back for a moment, thinking. Reveling in the thought of returning home.
    The door squeaked open again and Ed turned toward it, thinking the doctor had forgotten onesemi-vital piece of information—some nonparental form to be filled out, probably. But he was wrong.
    Instead it was Gaia, looking more disheveled than usual. Of course, even in this condition she was a vision to Ed, but he was instantly concerned nonetheless. Who wouldn’t be? Her jeans were streaked with dust and she had a scratch on one cheek. She was flushed and her hair hung in sweaty straggles. Her hooded sweatshirt was slightly askew. “Hey,” she said softly.
    â€œHey,” Ed said, glad to see her. He figured he’d let her warm up to telling him what had happened. He knew better than to push with Gaia. “I’m getting sprung today. In an hour, actually. You’re just in time.”
    She beamed at him, her entire face lighting up. “Really? That’s great. I’m so glad you didn’t have to stay longer.” She came around to the side of the bed and lowered herself into one of the two plastic visitor chairs that stood beside it. “I’m really, really glad that you’re okay,” she said, her voice grave.
    â€œOf course I’m okay! Don’t overreact. Seriously—surface wounds,” Ed joked. It was obvious that something was bothering Gaia. There was something she was trying to to tell Ed. But she was having trouble getting it out. “Gaia,” Ed said insistently, “is there something on your mind?”
    â€œI could have stopped it,” she blurted.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” asked Ed.
    â€œI mean I was headed towards the park that night. I ran into the thugs that attacked you. But I didn’t do anything to stop them.”
    Ed was silent for a moment. Whatever suspicions he’d had about Gaia’s behavior were now confirmed. Her skittish behavior at their last meeting was definitely suspect. She’d been timid and twitchy—one hundred percent nerve endings. Not that every walking piece of scum was anyone’s responsibility, let alone hers. She’d definitely exceeded term limits as self-appointed teen vigilante at large. But as far as Ed knew, Gaia had never seemed to be on the receiving end of that particular memo, so he could only guess that something was deeply wrong with her. Still, he had no intention of making her feel bad about what had happened. There was no way she could have known who those thugs would end up hurting.
    â€œGaia, don’t be ridiculous. You’ve really got to get over this Buffy complex. I mean, you could also stop, um, gingivitis if you were willing to floss after every meal. I know you’re, like, superhuman, but you can’t prevent every bad thing, ever. I know you did what you could.”
    â€œI should have stopped it,” she said, more to herself than to Ed.
    The more Ed thought about it, the more it did weird him out that Gaia hadn’t stopped the attack. The Gaia he knew and—hell, just admit it—lovedtotally wouldn’t have let any of those punks get by.