Free Fake by Francine Pascal Page A

you?”
    â€œLook, my family is just really protective about stuff like that. It’s for security reasons.”
    â€œBut this is really important!” He didn’t even try to disguise his exasperation anymore. It bothered him to hear her talk about the importance of Skyler’s security when Gaia could be in major trouble.
    â€œHow am I supposed to know that?” Liz countered, her own voice rising. “You won’t even tell me what this is all about!”
    Jake reached up and lightly pounded his fist against the doorjamb. “I told you,” he said in a low, measured voice. “I need to talk to Gaia. I’m really worried about her and she’s been out all night. With your brother.”
    Liz raised her right eyebrow. “Oh, really? So shespent the night with Skyler and now you want to go over there and talk? Yeah, right. I see where this is headed. You think I’m going to let you go over there and pick a fight? Forget it!”
    â€œNo! It’s not that way at all!” Jake exclaimed.
    But Liz just kept shaking her head, her wry expression cemented to her features. God, he was an idiot! What was he going to do now?
    Of course he wanted to beat up Skyler. He wanted to pound him into a puddle of grease. He wanted to rearrange his pretty-boy face until he looked like someone in a Picasso painting. But he wouldn’t—at least, not as long as Gaia was okay. But how was he supposed to convince Liz he was more concerned with Gaia’s safety than her fidelity? He couldn’t. Not without saying even worse things about her brother.
    But he wouldn’t give up now. Liz was his last and only chance. Somehow he had to make her understand.
    Artfully Subtle
    PARADISE. EDEN. VALHALLA. FIFTH Avenue. It was all the same.
    Megan cast an approving eye over the fastidiously manicured lawns, the opulent stone buildings, and the postcard views of CentralPark. Even the pigeons looked better over here. Their feathers seemed brighter and well pressed—as if each bird had been carefully outfitted by Chanel.
    Yep, this was definitely her place. Other people might feel a calling to go to Africa, to help out the animals or whatever. But she’d always known she’d end up here, in this zip code. After all, these were her people. They knew all about the better things in life. Which, let’s face it, made them better than just ordinary people.
    Like Mr. Rodke. He’d heard that the prom committee was trying to raise money for decorations and had promised a sizable donation. Now they could finally get the good stuff instead of the cheap paper and plastic things. Obviously he didn’t want his son and daughter to have to suffer a cheesy prom. And thanks to his generosity, everyone in the Village School would benefit. Now if they could just get Amy van Cline to shut up about having a medieval May fest theme. Please!
    Megan knew she’d made a really good impression on Mr. Rodke over the phone. As president of the prom committee, she’d thanked him for his thoughtful contribution and even made a comment about it not being that long since his own prom. He’d laughed appreciatively.
    At first he offered to have Liz bring the check to school, but Megan managed to change his mind, insisting that Liz had enough to do and that she didn’tmind picking up the check herself on Saturday since she was going to be in neighborhood.
    Now she was finally going to get her foot in the Rodke door—so to speak. Although it was rather embarrassing that she’d had to resort to such tactics for an invite.
    Unlike Gaia Moore, she thought, lifting her chin in indignation. How that absolute mess of a girl had managed to worm her way into their favor was beyond her. Maybe this was Chris and Liz’s way of rebelling against their upbringing? Whatever. She’d just have to work on the dad. She’d finagle a dinner invitation and prove that she was worthy of their