Rebel by Francine Pascal

Author:Francine Pascal
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2000-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

BY THE TIME ED ROLLED THE MILE OR so up Broadway back to the West Village, his fury had subsided to a dull rage. His neck was starting to ache from shaking his head so much. He knew he must look like a lunatic, gesturing and muttering to himself, but he couldn’t care less. His mind was in a haze.

Speak of the Devil

He’d always known Gaia to be reckless. But never stupid. Even when she’d insisted on tracking down “the Gentleman”—that whacked-out serial killer who turned out to be the new kid in their class—she’d showed some kind of logic. Some kind of rational thinking.

All right, maybe not. It was hard to call vigilantism rational under any circumstances. But at least she’d been mildly concerned with her personal safety. Even when she’d agreed to go out with Charlie Salita and Sideburns Tim, she didn’t believe she was making a bad choice. It had been stupid, yes, but not irrational.

Now she just didn’t seem to give a shit about anything.

Whatever. It wasn’t his problem. Nope. If she and Mary wanted to get killed at the hands of some fatso drug dealer, he’d just find a couple of other hot chicks to hang around with. This was a big city, right? His wheelchair bounced as he turned off Broadway onto Bond Street. Here were plenty of nice young women around. Normal women. Women who wouldn’t endanger his life.

Maybe he could even meet some right now.

Sure. The Atomic Diner was just up the block on the right. He loved that place. It was one of those retro fifties joints, with minijukeboxes at each booth and an old-fashioned soda fountain. It was a favorite haunt among the hip Greenwich Village high school crowd. He used to hang there a lot himself when he was going out with Heather. And he’d always secretly noted that she wasn’t the only beautiful girl who liked to eat bacon and eggs at 10 P.M. on a Friday….

He jerked to a stop. His eyes narrowed.

Speak of the devil.

Sitting right there, in the first window booth of the Atomic Diner, was none other than Heather herself.

She was stuffing her face with french fries and talking animatedly with somebody just out of view of the window frame. Probably Sam Moon. Ed bowed his head. Tonight was really his lucky night, wasn’t it? First he got blown off by Gaia. Then he saw his ex-girlfriend whooping it up. Clearly Heather’s being here was a sign. Yes. A sign that he should go straight home and lock himself away for the rest of the holiday season—

There was a loud rapping on the window.

Ed glanced up. Oh, brother. He should have moved more quickly. Heather had spotted him out there on the sidewalk, and now she was furiously waving at him, beckoning him to come in. He tried to force a smile. There were about a million things he’d rather do than hang out with Heather and Sam— including hard labor, prison time, calculus homework….

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