Freak by Francine Pascal Page A

COUCH ON SATURDAY evening, brooding over her meeting with Dmitri. For the last hour she’d been alternating between obsessive irritation and obsessive brainstorming—trying to think of other ways to help her dad. He’d left her a message saying he was going back to work, which was good, but that didn’t mean they were putting him back on the case. He might still need her, and even if he didn’t, there was no way to stop her mind from obsessing.
    When the doorbell rang, however, her thoughts came to a screeching stop. She jumped up, crossed the living room, and slipped the cover on the peephole aside.
    Jake, she thought, her heart responding with the usual thump, much to her chagrin.
    â€œI know you’re there. I heard the peephole thing move,” Jake said.
    Gaia rolled her eyes and opened the door. Jake looked even more perfect in full, undistorted size than he had through the peephole. He was wearing black pants and shoes and a formfitting burgundy T-shirt that made his olive skin look even darker. His black leather jacket was new—at least she hadn’t seen it before—and his hair was slightly gelled.
    â€œWhy are you dressed like that?” Gaia asked, stepping aside so that he could come in.
    â€œIt’s Saturday night,” Jake replied, opening his hands. “I think the more appropriate question is why are you dressed like that?”
    Gaia flushed and crossed her arms over her chest. After she had returned from Dmitri’s that afternoon, she’d taken a shower and braided her still-wet hair down her back. Then she’d slipped into her most comfortable cargo pants, a black T-shirt, and a black hooded sweatshirt for her night on the couch. What did Jake expect her to do, lounge around in silk and cashmere?
    â€œSo, you came here to insult my wardrobe?” Gaia asked.
    â€œYou started it,” Jake said. He clapped his hands together and grinned. “Actually, I came here to take you out. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go.”
    Gaia blinked and drew herself up straight. Wait. Had he just asked her out? Where was the awkwardness? The agonizing silence? How was she supposed tohave the time to get all mortified and embarrassed and confused if he just sprung it on her like that?
    â€œI . . . uh . . . ”
    Okay, there it was. Total loss of communication skills. This felt more familiar.
    â€œCome on, what do you do for fun?” Jake asked, his high energy bursting out of him and ricocheting off the walls. Gaia had a mental vision of herself ducking and dodging to avoid being hit by a shot of Jake oomph.
    â€œWhat do I do for fun . . . ?” Gaia repeated, stalling.
    This is pathetic, she thought, racking her brain. I don’t have an answer to that question. But when had she ever had the chance to think about it? When had she ever been misery-free long enough to even consider having fun? Yeah, she’d had a few laughs with Ed, but she couldn’t exactly tell Jake that she hung out with Ed for fun. Besides, hanging out with him was not an option. Not anymore.
    â€œUm . . . chess?” Gaia said finally, pathetically.
    Jake, understandably, laughed. “You have to be kidding me,” he said, walking over and standing across from her. “You live in one of the most kickass cities in the world. There are a million things to do here and you pick chess.”
    â€œIt’s . . . challenging,” Gaia said, defeated. She let her shoulders slump and looked up into his eyes. She felt like the biggest geek in the world, standing in front ofsome popular, fun-loving guru and begging him to help her become functional in society.
    â€œOkay, you need help,” Jake said, as if reading her mind.
    He abruptly turned left and walked down the hall toward her bedroom. Gaia followed, somehow resisting the urge to tackle him to the floor before he got there. Her room was a