Free Naked by Francine Pascal Page A

remember?”
    Gaia shrugged. “I remember cutting that guy Mick and letting the knife fall to the floor. Anybody else see that?”
    Paul’s smile vanished. He shifted in his seat. “Uh. . . if they did, they didn’t do anything. They didn’t say anything, either.” He paused. “Anyway, I just kind of grabbed you and dragged you out onto the Bowery. Everybody got right out of my way. “
    â€œThanks,” Gaia muttered, feeling her cheeks flush. “I guess I—” She stopped in midsentence. Something the cabdriver was saying caught her attention. He was no longer asking for directions. No, now he was jabbering about something else— something involving a little girl’s head in a boy’s lapin the backseat and all the favors she was doing him.
    She lurched toward the Plexiglas divider and smashed it with her fist.
    â€œBe quiet!” she hollered in Arabic.
    The driver fell silent, staring at her in the rearview mirror. Her eyes darted to Paul. He was staring at her, too.
    â€œWhat language is that?” Paul asked.
    â€œArabic,” Gaia mumbled.
    Paul swallowed. “What was he saying?”
    â€œNothing,” she replied. “He was being disgusting.”
    The driver clicked the CB again and resumed talking,this time in hushed tones. Paul didn’t take his eyes off Gaia. She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, but she could feel the tension building inside him; she could feel his fear and puzzlement and awe swelling like helium in a balloon. She should have just kept her mouth shut. She should have never gotten into a fight at CBGB’s. She should have grabbed Paul’s hand and run when Mick and that moron had started trouble. She should have tried to be normal.
    But then, she was never much of an actress. To be a good actress, a person had to be a good liar.
    â€œWho
are
you?” Paul whispered.
    Gaia turned toward the window. “You’re asking the wrong person,” she said.
    Paul didn’t say a word.
    Central Park appeared on their left, a dark wilderness under a canopy of lifeless trees. Once again Gaia found herself zeroing in on the driver’s speech. Had her Arabic gotten a little rusty? He was talking about her again; at least she was pretty sure he was—only she didn’t quite understand the word he kept using to refer to her. It didn’t sound like any of the derogatory terms that Arabs used for women. She didn’t know
what
it was. Probably some new slang that was even more foul than anything she’d heard before.
    A smile crossed Gaia’s face. Here she was, worrying about the proficiency of her Arabic. As far as she went,that was about as close to “normal” as she could get. She should be thankful.
    SAM WAS BUZZING. THE ENERGY bordered on hyperactive. The night air was cold, but he hardly noticed. His left leg wouldn’t stop shaking as he leaned against the awning post of the Mosses’ ornate Central Park West building. The doorman had been staring at him for some time, but he didn’t care. He was still savoring the moment. He kept hearing that satisfying
crack
—the sound of his shoulder as it struck Josh’s chin, smacking that goddamn smile off his face.
    Stock Emotion
    Why had he waited so long? He should have been pummeling Josh’s face weeks ago instead of just dreaming about it. But the time had finally come. It was as if he’d snapped out of an endless daze. How long had he been sleepwalking? How many days running these ridiculous errands? How many weeks traipsing aimlessly around town like a paranoid zombie?
    He’d actually walked all the way from NYU up to Central Park West. And he hoped “they” had watchedhim every step of the way. Because he didn’t give a shit anymore. The time had come to strike back; the pieces were closing in, and if he didn’t make a decisive move now, he was already checkmated.
    The blow struck at