Run Read Online Free

Heather was actually impressed. It was almost a relief to know there was someone who didn't shed all self-respect the minute Heather threw her a look.
    Okay, so it was impressive. But it still pissed her off.
    Heather slammed her books onto her desk, accepted some hellos from neighboring students, then noticed that the classroom television was on. The screen was blank -- the same bright blue Tommy Hilfiger used last spring -- and the VCR light was blinking.
    Thank God! Heather thought. A video was about all she could handle this morning. Probably something about the Civil War. Wait. This was economics, not history. Okay, something boring about supply and demand, then. Perfect.
    She wouldn't even have to watch. She could study for Shakespeare and write vicious things about Gaia on the desktop. And wonder if Sam was out of her life for good now.
    And if he was, was he in Gaia's life instead? Losing him would be bad. Losing him to her would be unbearable.
    God, did that little witch actually believe she could do battle with her? Did she think she was better than Heather Gannis? And if she thought she was, how long would it be before the rest of the people in this school -- flock of sheep that they were -- began thinking it, too?
    She didn't want to think about this. Not now. She wanted to get her mind off Gaia and Sam. She'd allow herself one nasty piece of desktop graffiti, then maybe she'd watch the stupid video after all.

An Odd Angle
    SITTING THROUGH HOMEROOM WAS torture. What could the cassette possibly contain? Wicked neo-Nazi propaganda? Gang recruitment information? Or maybe something closer to home -- a biographical account of her messed-up life, edited for the sole purpose of humiliating her in public? But since Gaia had no idea who'd kidnapped Sam, she couldn't even begin to pinpoint a motive, and therefore could not even venture a guess as to what purpose this video, this "test," might serve.
    She was about to find out. First period. The moment of truth.
    If anyone was surprised that the video was starting before the teacher was present, they didn't mention it. Someone at the back of the room hit the lights. Gaia glanced over her shoulder and saw it was Ed, who'd just arrived. He was supposed to be in English now, wasn't he? But here he was, for moral support.
    First bagels, now this. She felt a small cyclone of warmth in her stomach. So this was what friends did for you, huh? Gaia squelched the warmth. She couldn't risk getting used to it.
    Ed shot her a look that was part encouragement, part panic. She turned away fast.
    The blue screen gave way to a sudden blast of snowy static, then the scene focused.
    It appeared to be a wide-angle shot of the upper half of a bedroom. The room was dimly lit, but Gaia could make out posters on the walls, an NYU pennant, a wide window with the blinds pulled.
    And there were noises.
    The usual New York background noises, of course -- distant sirens, car horns, blaring radios. But over those came the more interesting noises.
    Soundslike soft growling and deep sighs, sounds that seemed to caress each other.
    Now where had she heard that before?
    And then the camera panned down, pulling a form into focus.
    It was an odd angle from which to film. Even Gaia, with her lack of experience in both filmmaking and lovemaking, knew that. The subjects were unidentifiable. There was a broad back, encircled from below by svelte, ribbonlike arms that tapered into delicate hands and graceful fingers. But the camera angle was designed to provide no clear view of either face.
    The noises deepened, grew urgent, began to resemble words.
    "Oh. Oh my --"
    All the air seemed to flee Gaia's lungs at once. She knew that voice. And now that she looked closer, the blanket covering the bottom half of the couple looked pretty familiar as well.
    They, them, him, her.
    Gaia gripped the edges of her desk. Shit! What should she do? Let it run? Or jump up (assuming she could actually get her body to jump, since she