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Gaia frowned. “Uh, Skyler? Is this supposed to be comforting?”

“Just hear me out.” He squeezed her hand. “What I'm trying to say is that for me at least, things seem a lot less crazy when you're around. Forget the alley fight and the guy shouting nonsense at you. This has been one of the best days I've ever had.”

She smiled. It really had been nice. Getting away from Collingwood, Jake, all the things that were complicating her already-hampered mind. For the first time since getting fear, she'd managed to relax, even if it was for just a little while. “Yeah,” she replied. “Me too.”

“When you're around, I just feel . . . I don't know . . . happier.” He shook his head, grimacing slightly. “I know that sounds totally clichéd and cornball.”

Gaia patted the top of his hand. “No,” she said, glad for the chance to put him at ease for a change. “It doesn't.”

He smiled crookedly. “I guess what I want to say is . . . I think we need each other. The world isn't going to stop being insane, and we can help each other out. I feel like we have this amazing connection, like I was
meant to find you and look out for you. Am I nuts? Do you feel it, too?”

She paused, shifting her gaze to an abstract painting on the wall behind him. How did she feel? She couldn't tell. She'd been so completely petrified with fear for her brother that all other emotions were bound and gagged. But she had to admit there was something. Not since her mom died had there been someone so willing to watch over and protect her. In just one day Skyler had done so much for her, she wasn't even sure how to categorize him. Friend? Nurse? Big brother? Therapist? The attention he was giving her seemed so pure, so unconditional. It made her feel valued. And very, very grateful.

One thing was certain: she didn't want this to end. Skyler had been so incredible to her, she wasn't sure she could go back to doing everything for herself.

He was right. She obviously needed him. And now she was so beholden to him for his kindness, she would do whatever it took to somehow pay him back.

“Yes,” she said finally. “I feel that way, too.”

Skyler inhaled as if he'd been holding his breath, and his usual air of dignity returned to his features. “Good,” he exclaimed. “Enough of all this.” He stood and clapped. “What do you want to do tonight?”

Gaia tensed. Tonight? No. She had to get home. She had to contact D. and make sure he was all right.
“Uh . . . you know, I think I should probably head back to the boardinghouse.”

His face fell. “But I thought you liked it here. I thought I was helping you get over all the stuff you've been through.”

“You have. Really,” she insisted, desperate to spare his feelings. “It's just that . . . if I stay away two nights in a row, Suko will probably freak. She won't buy the staying-at-a-girlfriend's-house excuse two nights in a row. And if she panics too much, she might even call my dad.”

The more she lied and exaggerated, the more a mucky, greasy sensation spread over her. She was grotesque, awful. She should jump in the bathtub again and soak away the layer of crap she'd just dumped on herself. Wash away her sins.

Skyler didn't deserve this, but there was no way she could tell him about D. without unraveling the whole insane snarl that was her life.

“You're right,” he said with a resigned nod. “I've kept you long enough.”

He seemed so disappointed, Gaia was tempted to call the whole thing off and stay over again. And if it wasn't for the memory of D.'s innocent face haunting her every thought, she would have.

I'll make it up to you, Skyler,
she thought as she slipped on her jacket.
Somehow.

I
have a term for this state I'm in:
fearsickness.

That has to be it. I've never been carsick or airsick or hardly even
sick
sick, but lately I just feel . . . fearsick. Like I've been poured over ice, splashed with a jigger of fear, and shaken until well blended. And my body and mind haven't stopped spinning yet.

I'm even afraid of being afraid. My fear is so ever present that I can't remember what it was like to be fearless. I do recall that I was intensely unhappy. That's what drove me to have the procedure done in the first place. But was it worse than this? I just don't know.

I guess I thought that by getting the fear gene, I'd be gaining something. But instead it feels more like I've lost something.

What?
you ask.

Well, my sense of direction, apparently. Ever since the first
wave of panic and terror hit my nervous system, I've felt lost. I still know my way around the city, but I find the whole crushing, ominous sprawl of traffic and buildings overwhelming. Even sitting in a room with people is disorienting. I find myself questioning every move I make or phrase I utter, wondering how it will make me look.

Also, I seem to have lost my voice. My
inner
voice. You know? That internal dialogue you have with yourself that goes something like, “Psychobabble, psychobabble, yadda, yadda, yadda”? In my case it was more like, “Screw the world. Who cares? Whatever. Yadda, yadda, yadda.”

Only that voice is quiet now. It must have choked on fear and died. All I hear in its place is an uninterrupted whimpering. I just don't know how to talk to myself and make myself buy it. It's a really lonely feeling.

So that's me. Aimless, hopeless, and horrifically spineless.
I'm just a quivery globule of fears. A booger beneath the bus seat of life.

And now Skyler says he needs me.

Weird.

He says we need each other—that we were meant to be together. And while I can definitely see how I've been benefiting from our arrangement, I can't see what he gets out of it. Maybe he really feels this is part of his destiny—that he was somehow meant to find me.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that no one else in my life truly needs me. Not my AWOL dad. Not Ed anymore. Not Sam. Definitely not the FOHs. Jake only needs the drama and intrigue my life supplies. And Loki would say he needs me, but it's only as part of some grand, malicious scheme.

Maybe no one has ever needed me. I've been liked, perhaps even loved at times, but never needed. Now Skyler says he doesn't know
what he'd do without me. And I have to admit, I don't know how I've ever managed without him. We do seem to need each other. That's nice for a change.

I may not have a spine. But I do still have a heart. In fact, since fear came into my life, it's been asserting itself more than ever, squeezing and shuddering within me like it's bruised or cramped for space. The only times I feel even vaguely normal are when I'm with Skyler.

Right now Skyler is my voice, my direction, my link to sanity. And quite possibly my only antidote for fearsickness.

Persephone

GAIA SAT HALF CURLED IN THE
backseat of the world's most repulsive cab. Its vinyl upholstery seemed to be coated in something slick. The floorboards held a colorful, granular detritus that also adhered to the greasy seat in places. Even the air was clouded with an unpleasant scent—a weird combination of fish sticks and Sanka.

And Skyler was there. Beside her. Skyler of private limousines and expensive cars, who could probably count the number of times he'd ridden in a cab on one of his well-manicured hands.

She studied his Nordic profile as it appeared and disappeared in the light of passing cars. Waves of guilt spilled over her with every dip of the taxi, like cold splashes of puddle water. “You know . . . you really didn't have to ride home with me,” she said.

His silhouette turned and the next illumination of headlights revealed his off-center grin and reassuring blue eyes. “I know. I wanted to come. No way was I going to send you on your way alone after all you've been through.”

Gaia felt a corner of her mouth curl up to mirror his. “Thanks,” she whispered, snug in his gaze. The guilt trickled away.

“I just wish you could have stayed,” he added, facing front again.

And the guilt came back. Gaia chewed her lower lip and gazed out of her grime-streaked window. If only she could explain it to him. It wasn't that she didn't want to be with him; she just had to contact D. and make sure he was okay. Her encounter with the homeless man had dredged up an overwhelming fear for her brother's safety. But she had to keep all that from Skyler. Just for now.

As soon as enough time passed and her life fit some definition of normal, she would tell Skyler everything. She'd even introduce him to D. D. would love him. And she was sure Skyler would love D., maybe even want to take care of him, too.

In the meantime she just had to stay quiet and deal with her tides of guilt.

The strobe light effect of the oncoming traffic suddenly slowed. Gaia sat forward and glanced out of the slightly less dirty windshield. Sure enough, the Collingwood boardinghouse emerged from the hazy darkness. Gaia felt the familiar prick of dread, like a hypodermic to the gut.

“Now, see? Look at you,” Skyler murmured as the cab pulled alongside the curb. “You're all tense again.” He ran his hand through her hair. “I'm sorry I wasn't able to help you feel better.”

Gaia whirled to face him. “But you did. I felt a lot better.”

“But it didn't stick, did it?”

She looked down and shrugged.

“I'll miss you,” he murmured, lifting her chin with his fingertips. “The apartment will seem big and lonely without you.”

“I'll make it up to you,” she said softly. “I promise.”

“You know what? I know exactly how you can.” Skyler tilted his head, a wry grin weighting his lopsided features. “You can spend the entire day with me tomorrow.”

“But aren't you tired of me? Don't you need to—?”

He held up a hand, brushing her words aside. “Uh-uh. I won't take no for an answer. Unless . . .” He paused, looking slightly worried. “Do you have other plans?”

Plans?
Gaia resisted the urge to snort ironically.
With my crowded social circle of admirers? All those wonderful people who left messages on my cell phone, wanting to make sure I was all right?

“No,” she said, barely audibly. Her tongue felt thick and limp with self-pity. “No plans.”

“Good.” Skyler leaned back, his arm resting jauntily along the top of the oily seat. “Here's what we'll do. I'll pick you up around eight tomorrow and take you out for breakfast. Then we'll have the rest of the day to goof off.”

“Sounds great.”

“You should probably wear good walking shoes. And dress comfortably but not too casually in case we want to eat someplace nice.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and Gaia? Could you do something else for me?”

“Anything,” she replied, eager for a chance to pay him back. “What is it?”

“Would you wear your hair down? I like it that way.”

“Sure.”

He beamed proudly at her, like a teacher rewarding his best student. Gaia drank it in. She'd never been a teacher's pet before, but she reveled in it now. She enjoyed Skyler's attention, felt both comforted and intoxicated by it. She'd do anything to keep getting those gold stars.

She opened the door and started to climb out of the cab.

“Gaia?”

“Yeah?” She turned back to face him and found . . . his face. He had slid across the grubby seat and was now occupying her airspace, tipping into her gravity. And suddenly and swiftly, like a magnet to steel, his lips locked onto hers.

A maelstrom of emotions surged forward. If Skyler's hands didn't have such a firm grip on her, she would have tumbled backward, through the door, onto the curb outside.

In the brief yet intense time she'd known Skyler, he'd kissed her many times. On her cheek, her forehead, her hair, her hand. Even a couple of pecks on the lips. But
this . . . this wasn't a peck. It was too deep, too lingering. She knew there was a part of her that had always secretly wondered what it would be like to
really
kiss Skyler, that probably wanted to. But now, in his embrace, with his soft mouth pushing against hers, all she could focus on was the tangle of panicked thoughts jamming up her mind.

What did this mean? Was this serious or just a standard rich-boy goodbye picked up on his many jaunts to Europe? If it did mean something, was she enjoying it? Judging from her reciprocal lip action, she wasn't
not
enjoying it. But if she liked it, what about Jake? And why, oh why, couldn't she shut up her brain and go with it?

Bad fear gene! Bad! Bad!

And then, just like that, it was over. Skyler pulled away and settled back against the seat. “Good night,” he murmured, smiling an uncategorical smile.

Gaia stumbled out into the crisp evening air. “Bye,” she mumbled, still reeling from all the seismic emotional activity.

She shut the door and watched as the cab drove away, keeping her eyes on the curved shadow of Skyler's head. Eventually a delivery truck blocked it from view. Then she reached up and touched her fingers to her still-tingling lips.

That was some kiss! But what the hell did it mean? “Goodbye”? “Cheer up”? Or was it the start of something more intimate between her and Skyler?

No. She couldn't think about that now. Right now she had to focus on the mission at hand: checking on her beautiful, faraway brother. Once those fears had been put to rest, she could return to the mystery of the kiss.

Gaia turned and headed up the sidewalk. The brownstone looked more somber than usual in the pale yellow light of the streetlamps. It felt strange coming back, as if she'd been gone a long time. But this homecoming brought no sense of relief. In fact, every step toward it seemed to reverse Skyler's uplifting effects. She felt like Persephone, sent down to winter in Hades.