Select (Select #1)(59)

I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t outed me. I watched them melt away into the crowd, Sebastian looking at me over his shoulder, confused by what had just transpired.

So this was what it felt like to blow your life to bits.



It was like my mind wouldn’t work with my two realities in the same space, like they couldn’t exist together. That had been my mistake. I had lied to myself that they never would. I had acted like I was the puppet master who had total control over keeping them apart.

I followed John out of the park. I had shut down completely. I had no idea what to do.

My word against Angus’s. The Lost Kids would believe anything Angus said. But I had plausible deniability in case it ever got to Novak. I was confident Novak would side with me—clearly he already disliked Angus: he wouldn’t let Angus near his precious daughter. I tried to imagine Angus telling Novak, but as I slowly began to surface from the swirl of thoughts in my head, in my heart I knew the Lost Boys would never say anything. We had too much history.

I became aware of John again.

John had known I’d been trying to distance myself from him. He had stayed apart from me, even during his confrontation with Angus. You would think I would drop John immediately after getting caught. That I cared how John felt at this point was insane.

I couldn’t believe that John had gotten in Angus’s smug face. I wished he hadn’t. I wished he had remained anonymous, blended into the crowd behind me. But a little part of me admired him even more. John had reminded me of his dad. He had that same quality of commanding respect.

John wouldn’t look at me. Rivulets of mud were running down my legs, and I could feel my surroundings seep back into my consciousness as we walked farther and farther from the park. Now I was all too aware of the crowds, the rain adding to the chaos, the atmosphere wild and party-like.

In my own defense, I’d had to pretend I wasn’t with John. It was for his own safety. I couldn’t believe that out of thousands of people, I’d ended up face-to-face with Angus. Maybe the boys hadn’t seen me kissing John—maybe the crowd had been big enough—but I had seen in Angus’s crystal eyes the click of recognition and the mortifying knowledge of what he now had on me forever, delivered to his doorstep by yours truly.

It was close to eleven. I had to concentrate to keep up with John’s long strides. I could tell he was keeping tabs on me, looking slightly over his shoulder out of the corner of his eye. Even when he was angry with me, he was protective. I’d just smashed his pride. I knew how he felt since it was an emotion I was all too familiar with—that someone wanted you out of sight.

I couldn’t leave him with that feeling. He didn’t deserve it. I didn’t want to hurt him. I would try to find a way to explain before I broke things off.

“John!” My voice came out strange and hoarse, forcing him to look at me. He slowed but didn’t give me anything else. I had to give him credit—he played mad well. He shut down and moved on. He never looked at Tom or Sarah after he’d discovered the cheating. Not because he was angry. He no longer cared.

When we got to the next block, we were almost alone. Under the glare of the yellowed streetlight, John’s house came into view, but my relief that he would now be forced to talk to me dissipated when I saw Alex and a small crowd of friends gathered in the driveway in spite of the rain. Dammit.

It turned out John wasn’t in any hurry to drive me home. He held court simply by hanging out, his silent presence beckoning others to him. I looked off into the distance and decided to outwait him. Eventually he had to walk over to ask if I needed a ride.

I stood back a bit, leaning against a random car while the group of about seven, including Alex, August, Chris, and their friends, all talked to John. Everyone—except John and me—hadn’t come down from the high of the concert yet, and you could feel the music and the afterglow of the immense crowd vibrating through them.

John talked almost exclusively with a girl who seemed to be a friend of August’s. I watched him try to make me jealous. His anger obviously wasn’t so cold after all.

I tried to see John through this sixteen-year-old girl’s eyes. I realized I’d been living a teenage fantasy, knowing exactly what John Ford was thinking. What made him so incredibly attractive was how much of an asshole he could have been, with his looks, his intelligence, his athleticism. So much seemed to come easily to him.

What made me mad was that it was getting to me. Watching him with another girl—and this wasn’t the first time—I had this gnawing thought that I counted on John thinking I was everything. It had become something I needed.

I had to go. Now. I would just leave things where they stood before they got worse. I turned to go and felt my movement catch John’s attention.

I was so focused on John that at first I didn’t react when I saw the yellow Lamborghini Aventador slip to the curb in front of the house. It just seemed so incongruous to see Angus’s dad’s car in front of John’s home.

I hadn’t felt him coming, but he’d certainly found me. I should have known this was how Angus would react. He wouldn’t leave this alone. It was too tempting to come and fuck with me. And them.

The group stopped talking, the head-turning car doing just that—turning heads. Everyone seemed to lean forward. Angus rolled down the window. I moved as fast as I could down the driveway.