Select (Select #1)(4)

I had to have some kind of release. With a cracking sound, the hairbrush on the counter split down the middle. Right away I felt calmer. I looked down and saw the rash receding in answer.

I glanced up at the mirror. My heavy mascara was smeared, and my bottle-black hair was a rat’s nest. I looked the opposite of my sister—night to her day. But I enjoyed how tough I looked. It hid how not-tough I was inside. I took a few more breaths.

I checked my phone. Sure enough—and thank God—there was a text from Angus about Barton Springs. I felt better. But how had he gotten my sister’s number? And why would he use it?

That Liv and I had been separated into different groups made things tricky. It had been a shock when my dad announced his plan to split up the kids, and even more of one when my name was randomly selected for the group that needed to “lie low” and underachieve for the sake of appearances. It was one thing to have to fake it at school—to not be so smart, so good at sports, so quick at absolutely everything. It was another when Novak told us my group would not be receiving any kind of instruction for now and any natural skills we had would have to lie dormant.

This was why the boys had begun to live for what I’d shown Angus how to do. We were all in the same boat: going crazy having to suppress our instincts. Not to mention that we had to deal with the migraines, the fitful, sweaty sleep, the waking up to find the contents of our bedrooms broken around us. It all felt wrong. We had been assured that our dormancy was just a temporary precaution during our remaining two years before we disappeared from Austin due to the recent scrutiny. So far we’d made it through one year and two months, but it had changed us.

I opened the bathroom door and reluctantly walked back to the bedroom, trying to decide what I wanted to do. Liv looked nervous to be in my room, nervous awaiting my answer. At least one thing hadn’t changed: I was still her older sister and, like old times, her ticket to where she wanted to go.

I sat back down on the bed, watching her as she attempted to look uninterested, twisting her brown and gold hair into a messy ponytail. It was a new and scary feeling to be jealous of her. She had always been the baby in my eyes, so sweet, and the bright spot in my life in this house. I had been proud of her when she replaced me as captain of the soccer team and I’d had to watch from the sidelines, the team moving in unison like a flock of birds. Watching them never grew old. It was like they had eyes in the back of their heads, they were so in tune with each other’s movements and unspoken signals. I missed it so much, it almost killed me—that beautiful feeling of connection and flow. It had been exchanged for the constant, maddening feeling that something essential was missing.

I was ready to have every privilege restored to us in our next place, to not have to hold back in any way, to stop feeling the emptiness. I never blamed Liv. She had felt guilty, but she’d had to listen to her mother. I saved my resentment for Victoria, though I tried, with every ounce of my being, to hide it.

Liv was waiting. She knew I couldn’t say no to her. I didn’t think I ever had. But my biggest reason for agreeing to go on this ill-conceived excursion was my absolute confidence that Liv would be scared off when she saw Angus, Lord of the Lost Kids, in his element.

“What time do you want to leave?”

Happy now that she was getting what she wanted, Liv let out a breath and smiled.

“Soon, maybe. It’s getting hot.” That was the understatement of the year. “Is that a new tattoo?” Liv moved closer to me and pointed to the vine lacing itself across my upper chest.

“Yes, sort of new.”

She nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. I’ll have to get rid of it soon enough, I guess. Ten more months.” I could tell she noted my sudden coldness. I didn’t like that she was idly picking up things on my desk.

Liv consulted the rose-gold Rolex Daytona on her tan wrist. “Meet you in what? Fifteen minutes downstairs?”

I nodded.

“Hey,” she said over her shoulder as she left my room. “I’m excited to hang out. We never see each other anymore.”

I smiled halfheartedly. As soon as she was gone, I walked over to what she had been fiddling with, hoping it wasn’t anything I hadn’t wanted her to see.

It was a loose photo of Angus. I was frightened by the sharpness of my anger. Liv clearly knew that Angus and I were close, and she was pursuing her little crush anyway. But then, why wouldn’t she? Regardless of her reluctance, what was mine always became hers. It was all she knew. But now she seemed to expect it.

A few months ago I would have thought Liv’s fascination with Angus was cute—one more thing that showed she looked up to me, much to my stepmother’s anxiety. Now, considering this womanly and newly empowered Liv, it wasn’t funny anymore. The question was, what was Angus thinking about her? Even if he didn’t see her as a little girl anymore, surely he wouldn’t dare go near her, out of fear of Novak? There was no way forward. Even for Angus.

It was the first time Liv had ever disappointed me. I felt the loss of the little girl who wouldn’t be coming back.



I closed my bedroom door softly behind me, leather tote slung over one shoulder. I hesitated, wondering if I should go back and change.

Even though I was inside the house, I wore my large black sunglasses so Liv wouldn’t see my eyes. Already I knew putting on the black string bikini was the wrong move. It had somehow ended up in my drawer, and I’d never before had the guts to wear something so tiny. What had felt like an I-don’t-care moment a minute ago now felt somehow desperate.