Gone by Francine Pascal Page B

fifty to a hundred yards away. Which made this child’s play. Her eyesdarted along the keyboard, following his fingers as he typed each letter.
    S-k-y-M-a-s-t-er-1-6.
    Bingo. Thank you, Skyler. That was all I needed.
    She turned back for the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the fridge.
SkyMaster16
… How disgustingly appropriate. One simple password spoke volumes about his conceited ass. He really did see himself that way. As a “master.” Or more to the point, as
her
master. Once again Gaia had to clamp down on her temper. Because it was all so hopelessly familiar. It was shades of Oliver all over again. She’d seen enough of Oliver’s top secret memos in the past year—memos referring to her as the “subject.” It was her least favorite word in the world. And it had to stop. Gaia had to prove it once and for all: She was nobody‘s Subject. And no one was her master.
    â€œOkay,” Skyler said excitedly, giving up his chair to Gaia. “We’re good to go.”
    â€œYou’re so sweet to help me with this,” she said, squeezing his arm in just the right place. “What would I do without you?”
    â€œNothing, I hope.” He smiled.
    Gaia pulled the laptop closer and they began to work on her “Dear Jake” e-mail. She could explain the whole ridiculous scenario to Jake later, once this whole thing was over. Which Gaia hoped would be very soon.
    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Time: 8:37 PM
    Re: Last goodbye
    Dear Jake,
    Don’t be confused by the e-mail address. I’m writing to you from Skyler’s house, which I actually think is pretty appropriate. Maybe you’ll finally accept where my loyalties are.
    That last phone call really pissed me off, Jake. I was trying to be polite and have an amicable conversation with you about this whole prom situation, but you had to turn it into another stupid fight, which is pretty much all we seem to do now. Fight.
    I know your oversized ego probably won’t be able to deal with this, but I’m writing to you to make it official. Whatever we had… it’s over.
    Let’s face it, Jake. School is ending, and I think that we should end with it. You’ll be going off to college, and I’m not even sure what I’m going to do next, but whatever it is, we never would have lasted long distance. Our lives are just headed in completely different directions.
    I hope in the future you can grow up a little and learn how to control your ego. Because it’s just going to keep getting you into trouble, Jake. And leave you feeling very much alone.
    Let’s try not to complicate this too much. You don’t need to write back. Let’s just try to end it gracefully and go our separate ways, all right? Don’t write back with some angry e-mail and drag this out any further.
    So this will be our last goodbye, Jake.
    I hope you have a nice life.
    Best,
    Gaia

Eat Me
    JAKE CHECKED HIS WATCH. NINE P.M. on the dot and not a soul in sight.
    He stood alone in the center of the vacant lot on West Twelfth Street, spinning slowly in place, checking and rechecking every dark corner, waiting for Chris Rodke. But there was nothing. Just two half-shattered streetlights casting dim, ugly light on the broken gray asphalt.
    There wasn’t an ounce of wind blowing, which made for an eerie stillness. It was a bit like standing on the surface of the moon, looking out into nothing but a vacuum of black space. There wasn’t a star in the polluted sky. The only sound was the distant din of the cars down on the highway, more and more of them approaching and then whizzing by without a sign of Chris.
    Jake could literally feel each minute ticking by far too slowly, and it was starting to get to him. It was making him antsy. Nervous, even. He began to walk, listening to the sound of his footsteps scraping across the garbage and the broken glass on the ground. But he could walk only so