Select (Select #1)(46)

“Whoa!” John said, like What the hell?

“The police are coming. There’s a fire upstairs. We have to go. Now.” It took a beat for this to register.

“My brother…” He started searching the yard, suddenly alert.

“He’s outside. In front.”

Hearing that, John took the lead, pulling me out the side of the backyard and into the shadows of the neighbor’s front yard. It looked like a mass exodus had started. Black smoke now poured out of the upstairs window. A cluster of teens had gathered on the front lawn.

We saw Alex immediately, and John pointed in the direction of down the street. Alex nodded. I realized John was leading me to his house.

“Wait! My car is here.” I felt foggy. The adrenaline surge was over, and I was getting a hungover feeling.

“Give me the keys.” He held out his hand.

I started lamely searching my pockets. A fire truck pulled up in front of the house. John said something to me, but I couldn’t hear over the shrieking sirens.

When I kept fumbling, John pulled my hands to the side and started searching my pockets himself, immediately finding the keys. He opened the car doors, and I numbly let myself in the passenger side.

John pulled out. Behind us I saw more flashing lights. We had just made it out. Undoubtedly they wouldn’t be letting more people leave the scene until they’d been questioned. With the smoke, it had been hard to see in the upstairs bedroom. I just had to hope the couple would seem dazed and unreliable.





John parked my car in front of a small ranch house. Lights were on inside, but I could tell no one was home.

I suddenly felt so relieved and just better than I had in days, now that he was with me. I also felt completely spent.

John turned off the ignition but didn’t make a move to get out. The glimmer of the interior light went out, making the inside almost pitch-black. I knew what was coming. He’d digested the oddness of the past few minutes.

“Were you there because you knew there was going to be a fire?”

I didn’t answer, just stared out the window, looking at the telephone wires lining the streets. Now I needed to begin the lying.

“Julia!”

I reluctantly looked over at him and then wanted to look anywhere but. All he wanted was for me to admit it.

“Just say it.”

“Why do you need me to?”

That hung between us, suspended. I hadn’t known I was going to say it. That one sentence began the unraveling of everything I’d been told to guard as tightly as I could.

“Because I do.” John’s voice was soft, wary.

I started to open my car door to get out and away, the rush of what I’d admitted hitting me.

“No, stay.” John’s voice was urgent. I was so relieved he wanted me to stay that I didn’t resist. When I leaned back into my seat, he said, “Explain. I think I know part of it.”

If I said the words out loud, I could never take them back, and it wasn’t just me I was supposed to protect.

Frustrated, John spoke. “You can predict things and…I don’t know…tamper with things. There’s truth to that exposé written about your”—he searched for a word—“people.”

I could sense he was waiting for me to deny it. When it became clear that my long silence was all the confirmation he needed, John said under his breath, “Thank you,” as in, Thank you, I knew I wasn’t crazy.

I put my hand to my face to rub away my total confusion at what the hell I was doing, and I felt a layer of grit. I pulled my hand away to look at what came off, but I couldn’t see in the dark.

“I need to go.” Two seconds after my silent acknowledgment, I was already starting to worry. But the thought of going back to my glass cage made me want to be sick.

“No! Look—let’s at least go inside. No one is home. You can get cleaned up.”

John surprised me by getting out of the car in one swift move, striding to my side, and opening the door for me. He offered me his hand, which he usually hid from me. Like a robot, I undid my seat belt, took his hand, and stood up next to him. He closed the car door and started to lead me to his house.

“I have to get home.” If I went inside, I was agreeing to talk. I dropped his hand and stopped where I was on the sidewalk. John took a step onto his property.

He turned to face me. “Come inside. Just for a little while. You know I’ve known for weeks, Julia.”

I hesitated. At that last moment of decision, I felt suspended in time. I looked at him waiting, wanting me to say yes. The moment slid into the next, and I watched myself step toward him.



“We forgot to turn off the lights,” John murmured as we walked into the small front room. The crisp air conditioning was a relief after the sticky October humidity outside. I looked around at the living room and the open kitchen beyond. I could see dirty dishes on the counter. I looked everywhere but at him.

Eventually, I glanced over at John. He averted his eyes.

“What?” I turned toward the mirror hanging by the front door. “Oh.” I had streaks of ash on my face and arms. My black sleeveless shirt was basically see-through, displaying the black bra I was wearing underneath.

“Don’t laugh,” I said to him.

“Who’s laughing?” he asked, looking like he was trying hard not to smile. “Look, do you want to shower? You probably don’t want to go home looking like you were just in a fire.” John put it out there like it was no big deal, but I could tell he was trying too hard to sound casual.