Tears by Francine Pascal Page A

not. If you don’t want to go out with me, then say so. I can take it. I’ve dealt with a lot worse stuff in my life.”
    Sam winced. “Is that what you think?” He gasped, shaking his head. “That I don’t want to go out with you? How can—”
    â€œWhat am I supposed to think?” Gaia shoved a fistful of hair away from her face, but the wind whipped it right back in front of her. “You hide things from me. You make things up. And now you’re trying to avoid having me in your dorm. . .” She couldn’t finish. Her voice was too strained. And there was no way she would allow herself to cry.
    â€œYou’ve got it all wrong,” Sam whispered.
    Gaia laughed miserably. “Then are you going to tell me what’s going on? Because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t...pretend.”
    Sam nodded. He looked weak and unsteady. “I know. But I can’t tell you. I can only tell you that I need some space here.” He opened his mouth to add more, then apparently thought better of it.
    â€œBut why?” Gaia choked out. She didn’t deserve this.
And there was no way she could explain this freakish behavior away with sympathy.
Whatever was turning Sam into a shell of his former self was bigger than his grief over Mike. She knew that now.
    â€œLook,” Sam replied, taking a step toward her. “Please trust me, Gaia. This has nothing to do with us. I’m going through some personal stuff. Something I need to sort out by myself.”
    â€œFine. Then go through it. Just leave me out if it until you’re done, okay?”
    Gaia turned and walked. Sadness gave way to anger once more.
She
had opened up to him about her life,
her father and their tentative new dress rehearsal for a normal life,
her uncle—everything. But apparently he couldn’t reciprocate. Maybe she’d even scared him off by opening up too much. Now,
that
was funny. A grim smile spread across her face as she strode down Broadway, turning east along Canal, heading for places unknown—anywhere where she could get lost.
    Behind her Sam bobbed through the crowds, still following her for whatever inane purpose, unable todo the right thing and just get lost. And that left Gaia with only one option. To get
herself
lost. If there was one thing Chinatown was perfect for, it was that.
    Once again she broke into an angry sprint, her feet pelting the asphalt as she crossed Canal and swung down Mott Street. The Mandarin alphabet thickened on street signs, snaking up above noodle shop facades. She sped past families emerging from dim sum lunches, tiny stores crammed full of vases and silk pajamas, grocers selling fruits and fish. She didn’t stop to see any of it. Nope. She didn’t care what she saw. She didn’t care, period.
Because Sam evidently didn’t care.
About her or about anything—
    â€œGaia!” he shouted.
    So why is he still chasing me?
    His anger stopped her. She spun around to face him. What right did
he
have to sound so pissed?
    â€œWhy is it that your life can be one big secret, but I can’t even keep just a little part of mine to myself?” Sam gasped, doubling over as he staggered to close the gap between them. “Don’t tell me I know everything about you. I’ve had to knock down a lot of doors to get even the little information you’ve given me about your life.”
    Gaia bit the inside of her cheek. Slight point there. But she was changing. “Let’s back up. You haven’t exactly been one big open book since I’ve met you.There’s the small fact that you slept with my foster mother. . . .” She broke off, instantly regretting the words. Sam’s face was whitewashed in pain, his mouth open like a wound. They’d made a pact to never mention that incident again. Gaia had broken her promise. She’d made a mistake. Especially since Sam hadn’t even known who Ella