Free Wired by Francine Pascal Page B

Something was up with Gaia, but Ed didn’t know how to go about probing without seeming suspicious.
    He wondered, fleetingly (and not for the first time), if whatever was going on in Gaia’s world had anything to do with the bizarre CIA visit to Heather. He contemplated mentioning that, asking her if she had done any follow-up, but at the last minute he chickened out. One look at her unkempt appearance suggested that now wasn’t exactly the time. Gaia was acting so strange, solin-Gaia-like, that he didn’t want to do anything to push her buttons.
    He was started out of his thoughts by the sound of a pronounced sniffle. He glanced up to see what had to be the ultimate strangeness he’d ever encountered.
    Gaia was crying.
    She was pretending that she wasn’t—staring off in the opposite direction of the bed and dabbing at her eyes methodically—and she was definitely trying to stifle the tears, but there was no denying that actual wetness was emanating from her eyes. Ed blinked. This had to be a first for them. In all that he had been through with Gaia, he didn’t think he had
ever
seen her cry.
    He sat up straight in bed, reaching out to her. “Hey—don’t worry. I told you, I know that you did what you could, and you know, here I am, totally fine. They’re letting me go. No permanent damage. Noworries. And I don’t blame you, so please don’t blame yourself.”
    Gaia rubbed at her eyes but didn’t say anything in response. After a moment she abruptly turned back to Ed. “Forget it, I’m being a spaz.” And just as soon as the tears had begun, they were locked away again. It was like spontaneous bipolar disorder or something.
    â€œSo other than your great escape, what else is new? Have you made plans for prom yet?”
    Ed was starting to wonder if he had somehow stumbled into the twilight zone. What the hell was up with this non-Gaia—first the unnecessary levels of self-flagellation, then the spontaneous crying jag, and then the less-than-subtle subject change? Granted, Gaia had never been an open book, but they were plumbing new depths of odd behavior. And since when did Gaia Moore care about things like
prom?
    â€œUh, no plans yet. I guess I’m the last one to deal with it, huh? Probably all anyone can talk about at school?”
    â€œYeah, just about. There’s a lot of speculation that the IV crimes will get in the way of the big night—but I don’t think the students will really let that happen.” She wrapped a thick rope of hair around one finger pensively. “So, you’re thinking of going, right? Who are you going to ask? Kai?”
    Ed shrugged. “Who knows? I mean, she’s really laidback, you know, so I think we could probably go as friends and she’d be cool with it. But I guess I’ll have to see. She might have had a more romantic evening in mind.” He thought for a moment. “I’ll probably have to figure it out sooner rather than later, right? I mean, whoever I end up going with will want to have time to get a dress, or schedule a hair appointment, or….” He peered at Gaia inquisitively. “What is it you girls do for the big night?”
    Gaia grinned self-consciously. “Hey, you’re the one who dated the self-proclaimed style queen,” she pointed out. “But yeah, I think dress shopping is a big thing. I’m thinking of hiring someone. Like, a consultant for the fashionably impaired. Think they do charity cases for free?”
    â€œGaia—God, what is up with you lately? Since when do you
care
about stuff like that?”
    Gaia’s face crumpled. “I’m kidding. But it would be nice to see how the other half lives for once” she retorted. “So I want to go to prom. Is that such a big deal?” She crossed her arms defensively.
    â€œNo, no, you’re right, I’m a jerk. It’s just a surprise,” Ed