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The lead singer rasped into the microphone, stalking the stage, and I stared. She stilled, and I could swear she looked directly at me. She was raw and powerful, and I’d never seen anyone own both. I didn’t understand why I was so transfixed by her. Maybe it was that she seemed so free. I realized I admired her.
I was uncertain if I was going with my family to this strange new reality, but either way everything was about to change. This life was over. For the first time I felt a whispering of second thoughts about Relocation.
I could have stood there forever, watching the singer and losing myself, letting her be my surrogate for expressing feelings I didn’t understand. Involuntarily I looked away when Angus nudged me with his shoulder, interrupting. He looked destroyed, his eyes red. I knew he was desperate to talk about what Liv had told us.
With his head he gestured to my right and aggressively shouted into the noise, “Your boyfriend’s here.”
“What?”
“That guy John is here.”
I shouldn’t have looked. I should have walked to the car, protecting myself. I’d put so much effort into building walls to keep him out, I wouldn’t have thought they would come down at the sight of him. Just like he burst into my consciousness at Barton Springs, he broke through now, and I had no time to prepare myself.
Alex was the one who caught my eye. He looked away first and stared straight ahead at the stage. August was also there, and of course Reese, who clearly had never stopped circling John. Then Alex nudged John, the way Angus had me, and tilted his head in my direction. John scanned the crowd in response. I knew I should look away, giving him the option of pretending he didn’t see me.
I saw the split second he registered it was me. He was amazing—he hid his reaction at once. There was nothing behind his eyes when he looked at me. Then John moved away from his group, slowly parting the crowd as he headed toward the back.
“Don’t do it, Julia,” Angus said without even looking at me.
It was useless to tell me not to. As soon as I saw him, I knew I would talk to John.
Without a word I drifted away from Angus. It took forever to navigate my way, but finally I opened the door to the dark interior of the wood-paneled bar with its smell of beer-soaked floorboards.
There he was. Waiting for me, wanting to get this run-in over with.
I drank John in—he looked so good to me. He seemed taller, his dark-brown hair shorter. He was even better looking than I recalled. He wore a navy blue hooded sweatshirt and jeans, his hands shoved deep in his back pockets. He felt so untouchable now, like he was someone else’s.
Wordlessly he turned and walked into a smaller side room with a pool table. It was almost empty, and the sounds from outside were muffled.
I followed a few steps behind. John walked only partway into the room, as if he wouldn’t commit to staying long.
John’s expression was absolutely neutral, making me feel as self-conscious as I felt around my family. He spoke first. “I saw your boyfriend.”
I couldn’t help the smile. “Funny, he just said the same thing about you,” I said, regretting it the second it came out of my mouth.
“Happy birthday,” he said, and I melted. The damage this was doing to me by the second was incredible.
“How did you remember?” I asked.
“It’s so close to Christmas, it’s hard to forget.”
A realization dawned on me. “You got into Stanford.”
“How did you know?”
“There’s no way your parents would let you out this late on a weeknight unless…”
“I did. I got in.”
“Congratulations.” It was my first real smile since I’d broken up with John. I didn’t even try to temper my reaction. I was so happy for him.
“It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t fixed that match,” he said flatly.
“No, don’t, John.” I felt him react when I said his name. “You earned Stanford on your own. It was just that one match.” I felt both our minds go to what was also only one time. I blushed and he knew why.
John’s words so far were polite, but he wouldn’t give me a thing—no indication of how he felt. Without a map I felt insecure, like I’d never talked to him before. I wanted to know if he hated me, if he thought about me.
I blurted out, “I’m sorry I—”
He stopped me. “It’s done. Don’t worry about it.”
“Hey, man.” We both looked up. Alex stood there, wanting to get his brother away from me, the bad influence, the bitch.
“Hey.” John nodded to Alex and straightened. I realized he was going to join his brother, leaving me so soon. Why wouldn’t he? There really wasn’t anything to say. I’d made that clear at the tennis court.
John had been the only time I’d ever let go. Now a terrible, self-destructive part of me wanted to grab that feeling again, one last time.
We looked at each other, and maybe because he was saying good-bye he allowed our eyes to meet. I took a step closer into his space, and watching his eyes, I saw it. He felt it. It was still there.
His brother saw it too. “John.”
The moment was over. John said a simple “bye,” and then he was gone.
I stayed where I was for long minutes, until a crowd found the empty room. Numb, I eventually walked up the dank indoor staircase to the third-floor balcony, which put me outdoors again, the band on display below. It was darker now, the winter air filled with cigarette smoke. I saw Liv and Angus and reluctantly made my way over.