Freak by Francine Pascal

a plant in the corner was overturned, a trail of clothing cut across the living room. The place was a total wreck.
    â€œSomething’s not right,” Gaia said flatly.
    â€œYeah, no kidding,” Jake replied.
    â€œSam didn’t say the place was trashed,” Gaia told him, taking a couple of steps into the apartment. “He said Dmitri left a note. Somebody must have done this after Sam left.”
    â€œLike who?” Jake asked quietly.
    â€œI don’t know,” Gaia said. “Someone’s after him.”
    Then she heard a creak from a floorboard and before she could turn around, she and Jake were grabbed from behind.

ED
    You know what I need? I need to get out of here. I don’t mean out of this bar or my school or my apartment. I need to get the hell out of this city. I need a college in a different state. Maybe a different country. I need to get as far away from here as possible, because one thing has become crystal clear to me: I am never going to fall out of love with Gaia as long as I have to see her every damn day. And as long as I’m still in love with her, no other girl has a shot. And as long as no other girl has a shot, I’ve got no shot.
    No shot at love.
    No shot at a functional relationship of any kind.
    No shot of getting any play of any kind on any level.
    Don’t get me wrong. Sex isn’t the only thing I think about. But I am a guy. A teenage guy. So it does occupy approximatelyeighty percent of my conscious thoughts. Maybe ninety. And when Gaia’s in the room, it’s more like ninety-nine.
    When I’m with Kai, I can’t kiss her without thinking about Gaia. And when Gaia’s in my line of vision when I’m with Kai, I can’t even focus on what the girl is saying. I hate to admit this, believe me. Kai deserves better. She’s an awesome girl and I wish I could be the boyfriend she deserves—for me and for her. But when it comes to girls of the non-Gaia variety I am shit outta luck, as they say.
    So maybe if I go away—maybe if I go to St. Louis or Seattle or San Francisco, Paris or Madrid or Minsk. Maybe if I don’t have to see her every day I’ll finally get her out of my system. I’ll finally be able to focus my abundant sexual energy on someone new. “Out of sight, out of mind,” right?
    Or . . . wait . . . is it“absence makes the heart grow fonder”?
    Damn.
    Why couldn’t the proverb people just come up with one opinion and run with it?

the explanation
    â€œWhy is Yuri here?” Tom asked. “He wants Gaia,” Natasha replied.
    Credible Threat
    â€œSHE HAS TO BE LYING!” TOM asserted, his teeth clenched. “Yuri is dead. We know this.”
    Agents Rosenberg and Frenz watched Tom as he paced back and forth across the longer wall of the debriefing room. Director Vance stood in the corner, an intimidating presence, his arms crossed over his chest and his jowls working. No one present wanted Natasha’s statement to be true. In his heyday, Yuri was considered to be a credible threat to the U.S. government. A serious danger to national security. He was on the international most wanted list. He was known for his ruthless tactics, his penchant for physical and emotional torture, his sadistic nature.
    He was not a pleasant person to deal with.
    â€œAgent Moore, I don’t want to believe her any more than you do,” Agent Rosenberg said, gripping her notebook. “But you and I both know she’s exhibiting none of the signs of distress associated with lying. She hasn’t blinked, she hasn’t touched her face, she hasn’t cleared her throat. We’ve been monitoring her body temperature with censors and—”
    â€œI know, I know, it hasn’t changed,” Tom interrupted.
    â€œAnd neither has her heart rate,” Rosenberg finished, glancing down at her notes.
    â€œOf course, we can’t say the same for you, can