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“Of course. I’ll go up now.” I began to walk in the direction of the living room.

“Why don’t you go up the other way? They’re having a meeting in the living room.”

I nodded and changed course to the back stairs. “Good night.”

They were severely distracted. Distraction didn’t happen very often. It worried me that the boxes were being dumped in this manner. It seemed reactive.

I ran up the stairs wondering what the hell was going on. When I was in front of my bedroom door, my bag weighing down one shoulder, I could hear sounds coming from Liv’s room much farther down the hall. I listened for a moment. It was muffled crying.

Old protective instincts took over. If she was crying, I felt like I needed to go to her. No one ever cried. There was no need. Except for me. I was the only one who let my emotions get to me, as Victoria and Novak had witnessed that night in Novak’s office. I knew they’d never forget that. Even if Liv could cry, she had never had much, if anything, to cry about. What had my dad said to Liv and Angus? What was their punishment? I wondered how much Novak really cared that Angus had gone beyond his social reach to be with Liv. It seemed like there were bigger things going on.

Just before I knocked on Liv’s door, I paused. She certainly hadn’t been there for me. I couldn’t bring myself to knock.

Hearing Novak’s voice below, I walked over to the staircase. I could only see if I stood in full view. I took a step out into the open at the top of the staircase and immediately saw my dad. He was standing in front of an audience of people of his generation arranged in a semicircle around him. They looked up at him as he paced and gesticulated, like he was working to win over a jury. They all sat on the edge of their seats, hanging on his every word. Then everyone laughed. This was Novak at his most compelling and persuasive.

Sensing a presence, my dad suddenly looked up to where I was standing. He looked back at me almost blankly, deep in his train of thought. I immediately stepped back into the shadows.

My phone buzzed. Junk email. Nothing from John.

I swiftly made my way back to my room, afraid to even think John’s name in Novak’s vicinity.

I had promised myself I could manage the separation between John and this world. Keep them compartmentalized in my mind. Knowing I shouldn’t do it, that I was beginning to blur lines, I began a text to John.

Not what I was expecting, but thank you for tonight. You have a very nice family. I miss you already. I immediately deleted it, knowing I could never send it. It looked like my time with him was running out.





John and I sat across from each other in the library, our feet touching under the table. Our English class had been temporarily moved to the library during construction to repair the leaking roof.

We sat at our own table, no one else bold enough to intrude, but I felt people glancing up to look at us curiously. One girl from class even scooted back in her chair in order to see under our table, then kicked the girl next to her to point out my feet touching John’s. I pretended not to notice and definitely didn’t move away from him.

“Hey, man.” A friend of John’s came up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey. What’s up?” John said. I remembered his name was Chris. Chris glanced surreptitiously at me. I didn’t bother to look up. It was rare that anyone spoke to me. Especially anyone male. But they seemed to like to get close when they could use John as an excuse.

“Not much. You going to the festival? You missed out last year. We’re parking at your house and walking from there.”

“Yeah. I’m going on Friday.”

“Cool. I’m going the first weekend too. So hopefully we can hang out.” Chris quickly studied me one more time. John had barely hung out with his friends for a few weeks now.

“Sounds good,” John replied. Chris nodded and walked back to where his class was sitting.

I threw down my pencil and arched back, stretching long. When I moved, more eyes looked my way, watching me. I knew I looked like I didn’t notice, but I was always aware. I’d never get used to it.

John liked that his family had flustered me. It gave him hope that I wasn’t a complete ice queen where other people were concerned. John thought it had been funny to see me nervous. He liked that I wasn’t perfect.

And I hated that he thought that. I’d had no idea I appeared nervous that night. Of course, I didn’t like that he saw differences between me and my family. They were perfect, and that’s what I wanted to be—I had to be—too.

As soon as I left that night, his parents had been all over him. Safe sex, tennis, distraction, getting too attached senior year—those were some of the highlights I got from reading his mind. Right now he was thinking that no one could believe I was his girlfriend, if that’s what I was.

Sometimes he looked at me like he would any other girl. He thought I looked like a blend of rich girl and tough girl with my nice clothes and tattoos—that people would always stare even when they didn’t know who I was. Many times he would look at me and try to pinpoint other differences. I didn’t like that as much.

“What?” I asked. John wanted to ask me something. I watched him crumple up a piece of paper in a ball and throw it into a trash can at least twenty feet away. He didn’t even react when he made the shot. He turned back to me.