Heat Read Online Free Page B

office indicates that Mrs. Moore died of smoke inhalation.
    The article continued for half a column, but there was no mention of any guns. Mary ran her finger along the monitor glass. The article didn't agree at all with the story that Gaia had told her. Not even the stupidest coroner in the world would mistake a gunshot wound for smoke inhalation. And Gaia had never mentioned her house burning down. That meant either the paper was wrong or Gaia was lying.
    Mary was willing to bet anything that Gaia had told the truth. That meant someone had created this story. Someone with enough pull to get just what they wanted planted in a local paper. Someone with enough power to convince local officials to lie.
    Mary smiled. This story was getting better.

a man-shaped shadow
    Mary's heart bounced in her chest. Fear ran through her body like strong acid.
    THERE WAS NOTHING LIKE A
sleepless night to make morning look like the bottom of a litter box.
    Boiled in Beer
    Sam brushed his teeth for a solid ten minutes and still couldn't manage to dislodge the fur that was growing on his tongue. He stared at the face in the mirror and winced. He was supposed to meet Heather in only an hour. If he didn't manage to look a little less like
a refugee from
Night of the Living Dead
, the Gaia Problem was going to turn into the No-Girlfriend-At-All Problem.
    Sam found he could think a little more clearly about Gaia now that the sun was up. It was clear to him that Gaia had moved on. Maybe she once wanted to be with Sam. Maybe she had never given him a passing thought. Maybe she had only kissed him because someone had
massaged her brain with a blunt object
. One thing was sure--Gaia wasn't thinking about Sam. According to the phone conversation Sam had held with Gaia's stepmother, Gaia had a boyfriend.
    Gaia hadn't even bothered to thank Sam for the Christmas present he had bought for her. If there had been a chance for Sam and Gaia the couple, that chance was over.
    There were absolutely zero odds that he was ever going to be with Gaia Moore.
    So why do I keep obsessing about her?
    He splashed cold water on his face and scrubbed it off with a slightly stale towel. It was like he was haunted by Gaia.
He wondered if he could find a priest willing to do an exorcism
.
    At least I have Heather,
he told himself. Then he gave himself a mental kick for having the thought. It wasn't like Heather was some sucky consolation prize. Heather was undeniably and totally beautiful. Half the guys at school were chasing Heather, and the other half didn't even feel worthy enough to try.
    Oh, yeah, and there was sex. Only a few nights before there had been sex. It wasn't like Sam had a terrific amount of experience with sex, but sex with Heather was fun. It was good, no,
great.
Great sex
. Any guy should feel lucky to have Heather. Having Heather was still the best thing in his life. His Gaia-free life.
    Once he was cleaned up and dressed, Sam felt a little better. Less like a zombie and more like he was only terminally ill. He slipped on his coat, took a last dismal look into the mirror, and started out the door.
    Before he could get all the way into the hall, another door down the way flew open and music spilled
    out. A short, wide-shouldered guy with curly brown hair and a broad grin stumbled into the hall. "Sam!" he cried in a voice loud enough to be heard in Brooklyn. "My favorite person in the world!"
    Sam winced at the volume. "Hey, Brian." From the slurred, overloud voice and the unsteady walk, Sam could tell that Brian Sandford had
a very low percentage of blood in his alcohol system
.
    The other student took a swaying step. "Man, it's good to see you."
    Sam forced himself to smile. Something was badly wrong here. Brian Sandford was obviously drunk, but Sam didn't think he was drunk enough to forget one fact--Brian and Sam hated each other.
    Brian was a local who had wandered over to NYU from the Village School. He seemed to have the same set of friends as