Select Read online

  Text copyright © 2017 by Marit Weisenberg

  Cover art © 2017 by Shane Rebenschied

  Cover design © 2017 by Carol Chu

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. Charlesbridge and colophon are registered trademarks of Charlesbridge Publishing, Inc.

  Published by Charlesbridge

  85 Main Street

  Watertown, MA 02472

  (617) 926-0329

  www.charlesbridgeteen.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Weisenberg, Marit, author.

  Title: Select / by Marit Weisenberg.

  Description: Watertown, MA : Charlesbridge, [2017] | Summary: Julia Jaynes of Austin, Texas, is one of the select, a secret group of humans with abilities bordering on the supernatural, but, unlike her younger sister, she has never been entirely comfortable as part of the “perfect” family—and when she falls for a normal human guy and draws attention to her more-than-normal family she finds herself banished to that most ordinary of institutions: public high school.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016043041 (print) | LCCN 2016051812 (ebook) |

  ISBN 9781580898065 (reinforced for library use) | ISBN 9781632896421 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Secrecy—Juvenile fiction. | Identity (Psychology)—Juvenile fiction. | Dating (Social customs)—Juvenile fiction. | Sisters—Juvenile fiction. | Families—Texas—Austin—Juvenile fiction. | High schools—Juvenile fiction. | Austin (Tex.)—Juvenile fiction. | CYAC: Secrets—Fiction. | Identity—Fiction. | Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. | Sisters—Fiction. | Family life—Texas—Fiction. | High schools—Fiction. | Schools—Fiction. | Austin (Tex.)—Fiction. | LCGFT: Romance fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.W4347 Se 2017 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.W4347 (ebook) | DDC 813.6 [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/​2016043041

  Ebook ISBN 9781632896421

  Production supervision by Brian G. Walker

  Text designed by Susan Mallory Sherman

  v4.1

  a

  For Jeff—M.W.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Acknowledgments

  In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous.

  —Aristotle

  AUGUST

  “Julia!”

  That startled me. I turned my head, tucking my hair behind my ear so I could see Angus come to stand beside me.

  “Hey.” He stopped and focused on the wall-length curved panel. The light of the TV sliced into the dimly lit room, rudely cutting through the Zen-like atmosphere. I thought my family would just flash across the screen, but the camera held on them.

  “Novak Jaynes and his wife, Dr. Victoria Jaynes, major donors to the new University of Texas Medical School, are here with their daughter.” You could tell the commentator was unsure of what he was allowed to say, and that he wished the camera would move on. Due to a well-publicized Securities and Exchange Commission investigation, this year there would be no hailing “the Oracle of Austin”—my dad, the investor with preternatural abilities.

  Angus was temporarily still while he watched Novak, Victoria, and my sister in their suite at the football stadium. I was impressed with Liv. I knew the toll this must be taking on her, trying to keep the public from penetrating the imaginary wall of glass Novak had taught us all to erect. No one in my family looked overwhelmed by the sensory overload of the football game or by the fact that people—now a cameraman—were studying them. It was impossible not to stare. Even for me. They were a perfectly matched, elegant family, with their sun-streaked brown hair and beautiful, fine features, although now my sister was taking it to a different level. It was like they’d externalized being members of the One Percent.

  Angus paused to look again—at my almost-grown-up sister, I knew—a second longer than I would have liked before getting back to business.

  “Come on. They’re waiting for us,” he said.

  To my surprise Angus ran his hand down my tattooed arm before catching my wrist, then my hand, and pulling me out of the room. We interlaced fingers. He didn’t ask why I wasn’t at the game. He knew. Everyone knew I wasn’t invited. But Angus was maybe the only person who actually seemed more interested in me than in them.

  A voice in my head whispered that maybe he only wanted me for what he thought I could teach him.

  “You suddenly interested in UT football?” Angus joked lightly.

  I laughed and said, “Very interested in football.”

  But I was embarrassed I’d been caught watching.

  We walked hand in hand through Paul’s parents’ many living rooms. Through the windows we could see some of our group wrestling on the grass in the side yard. When we stepped outside, Angus immediately dropped my hand.

  I didn’t understand why it hadn’t happened between us yet. Every night this summer I thought he would make the first move. Maybe he was waiting for me to take the first step, but I wanted it to come from him. He got everything he wanted, and I didn’t want to fall in his lap too.

  The moment I stepped outdoors, I felt as if I were enveloped in a swamp. Not everything could be controlled, I guess. But the landscape was lush. Only money could tame a garden like this into submission in the August heat of Texas. The harshness of the black gravel contrasted with the softness of the flowers, the symmetry of the stone pathways, and the soothing paleness of the white-brick monolith behind me.

  The boys were unusually sweaty. T-shirts clung to shoulder blades, and I could see beads of perspiration on those necks not covered with light-brown hair. They looked uniform with their honey coloring. I was always aware of how I stood out.

  Angus and I came to stand near the boys, waiting patiently for them to finish playing. Next to me, Angus removed his hand from the back of his neck, revealing one tattoo. His arms were covered with ink as well—designs of black bands around them, as if he were in mourning. I wasn’t sure if it was in honor of our ancestors or if it was a statement about his current situation. I could tell he felt me appraising him, and I quickly looked away.

  We watched the dog pile. The boys looked like they were going to kill each other tonight. Their cuts and bruises would be unusually bad, but at least they would disappear quickly.

  I noticed Paul standing off the path and directly on top of some landscaping, size-thirteen boots crushing flowering ground cover—a minor fuck-you to his parents. He lit a cigarette and, through that first cloud of smoke, squinted up at us as we joined the all-male group. Instantly Paul’s body language changed, now less the punk and ready to defer to Angus. And when they realized Angus was there, none of the boys resisted the instinct to turn their bodies to face him, in an act of deference an
d respect—the same as we all did when my father was in the room. I wasn’t sure if Angus was aware of it, but when it was just the two of us he in turn angled his body toward me.

  Sebastian had been blocking my view of Ellis, and when he shifted I saw what was going on. A knife was plunged into Ellis’s right hand—a steak knife with a curved silver blade protruding from his golden flesh. There wasn’t the least sign of blood. The boys stopped wrestling all at once and gathered around, watching and taunting, voices too loud for the serene setting on the water. Driving it deeper, Ellis maintained his impassive face, and the group, fiercely competitive with one another, attempted to look unimpressed. Ellis was getting good.

  All at once he crashed, turning white as the blood drained from his face. Angus broke through the group, grasped the handle, and in a smooth, confident maneuver removed the knife. I saw the deep wound between the knuckles begin to seep just a bare amount of dark-red, almost-black, blood. Well done, I thought. Ellis had almost controlled his response to the pain. Now he seemed to be recovering. He hid his compromised hand behind his back, wanting to protect it from the critical eye of the group.

  “I should go,” I said, always aware I was the only girl.

  “She didn’t like the trick,” Cyrus said, laughing.

  Despite that I’d grown up with these seven boys and that no one in this group would ever think of doing anything to hurt me, I felt vaguely uneasy when I looked around. Over the past year they had transformed their appearance like I had. They were deeply attractive, but they appeared hardened now with their abundance of tattoos and scars. And they were in fact hardened after a year of living with their wings clipped.

  I reminded myself it didn’t matter that I was the only female. It had just been me for the past year. I couldn’t help thinking that if any other girls had been included in our particular group, things wouldn’t be as out of control. There was too much testosterone. Every night the boys wanted to play in secret, practicing skills we didn’t understand and weren’t supposed to explore—thanks to me and my moment of weakness telling Angus what had happened last spring.

  I had explicitly disobeyed Novak when I shared my secret, wanting to impress Angus. Novak had warned me not to say anything after I’d gathered my courage and told him about the odd experience I’d had on a ski trip to Park City, Utah.

  It had started with a stupid mistake. I’d locked myself out on my bedroom balcony when I went to smoke a cigarette in the middle of the night. For hours I’d been trapped in the well-below-freezing temperature in shorts and a T-shirt, kicking myself because the cigarette wasn’t even worth it—it had no short-term or long-term effects on us. It was just something to do. I told my father how, instinctively, I had closed my eyes and focused inward, visualizing the color blue turning to warm red, and I must have raised my core temperature because I didn’t feel cold while I was stranded out there. Then I showed Novak how, if I concentrated my energies on an object, I could move it or even break it—like a door lock, which is how I got back into the ski house after I eventually grew bored waiting for someone to come rescue me.

  I was surprised how fast he shut me down. “Those are only tricks. We’re capable, but we don’t practice them because they aren’t worth the exposure. Don’t tell anyone what happened, and don’t do it again. Understood?”

  Immediately I felt like an idiot because I actually thought I’d done something extraordinary. Apparently it was nothing. I had irrationally hoped it would be enough to get me moved to the other set of teenagers in our group. In keeping with tradition, those sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds were finally getting answers about themselves and all the inexplicable things we could do. Those of us who remained, myself and the other teenagers in my group, were the first of our kind ever to be kept in the dark. I thought of us as the Lost Kids.

  Paul suddenly began to back away from the group, walking toward the driveway. We understood. We could all sense there were suddenly more of us in the vicinity. His parents were almost home. Moments later we could hear their car driving toward us, just a few blocks away now.

  “Come on.” Angus breezed past his friends, walking toward his brand-new and badly dented black BMW without giving them a glance. He knew they would follow.

  “Where to?” Rob unfolded his long body from a steel bench and stretched, showing off defined abs.

  “Julia!” Angus pulled my attention away from Rob. I could tell Angus noticed I was noticing, and he didn’t like it. I smiled to myself, feeling more optimistic about tonight. I walked down the path to join him and arched an eyebrow. Whatever trepidation I was feeling inside, I had almost complete confidence I was masking it. Even if I was the bastard child and a Lost Kid, I was Julia Jaynes, Novak’s daughter. And I owned it. Because if I didn’t, I’d have no place in the world.

  “Where do you want to go tonight?” Angus looked in my eyes and, briefly, we shared a moment. I knew he was wondering if I would play along tonight and that he was willing to try to charm me into it. I didn’t totally trust Angus, not after he broke his promise to me at the beginning of summer and showed these boys what I’d taught him how to do. They had taken the idea that they could assert their minds over their bodies and quickly gone to extremes. I understood: it felt good. It was a way to channel that pent-up feeling that physically hurt. But I couldn’t show them anything else or Novak would kill me and he might punish the boys.

  The ultimate threat of being left behind was almost enough to dissuade us from breaking the rules. Almost. More often the residual anger at being demoted and segregated from our other friends just empowered us to rebel.

  Still, for tonight I could go along for the ride and enjoy as Angus continued to try to make it up to me for telling my secret.

  “The train tracks,” I said. I tossed my hair and stood at my full five feet four inches. It was an announcement, not a question. I saw surprise and respect on Angus’s face.

  “You going to jump trains with us tonight, Julia?” he asked flirtatiously. We all started pairing off and climbing into the collection of luxury sports cars in the circular drive of Paul’s parents’ contemporary monstrosity. We weren’t that far from my house.

  “We’ll see,” I flirted back. I wished I could stop the blush that warmed my face when Angus opened the passenger door for me. I hated it. No one else in the group did that. Everybody seemed to have near-perfect command over their emotions and only showed what they wanted others to read.

  Car doors slammed behind me in perfect unison. Angus and I would lead them where I wanted to go. It was a powerful feeling. Train jumping should distract them. It was challenging enough. They might not ask for more.

  “Julia. Wake up.”

  I was in such a deep sleep—finally—it took me a moment to surface and realize my sister was standing over me. Her hand was on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake. My eyes snapped into focus, and I quickly sat up.

  I was so glad to see her, but then I was scared. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She never came into my room anymore. I knew it was because she was uncomfortable. In keeping with Liv’s new status, her mother had had us switch bedrooms this summer—my old bedroom had been the bigger one with the better view. Now it was Liv’s. I didn’t blame her, though. It hadn’t been her decision. She could have it. We wouldn’t be here too much longer anyway. I smiled indulgently, having missed spending time with my little sister. It was only a bedroom, I told myself.

  “No. Nothing, nothing. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just came to say hi.” Liv perched on the side of my bed, blocking the clock, dragging a finger along the white blanket. The blackout shades were drawn, but she was fully dressed, giving me the feeling I’d slept in and it was afternoon.

  “What time is it?” I sounded like a frog, so I cleared my throat. My mouth felt like an ashtray. Liv remained where she was. It felt like we hadn’t been this physically close in months. Reluctantly, it seemed, she stood up and walked over to the shades. Disappointed, I rea
lized this interaction would still have the tinge of awkwardness.

  “It’s ten. Do you mind?”

  “Go ahead.”

  She stood up and slapped at the panel on the side of the wall. The shades retracted and an expansive view of Lake Austin appeared, but I had seen it a million times. I took in my sister instead.

  Liv could have been from my dreams. She was so beautiful. Like me, Liv had my dad’s blue eyes, but that was the extent of any similarity between us. She had high cheekbones that set off the small, perfect features of her heart-shaped face. Her thick, long hair almost matched her skin tone. Tall and willowy at five ten, she somehow also had curves. I wasn’t used to it yet. She had been a late bloomer, and it had happened so fast over the course of this summer, just as she turned sixteen. It felt strange to live with someone your whole life, and then suddenly need to adjust to their physical appearance every time you saw them.

  “So, what’s up?” I felt self-conscious in my tank top, and smelling like cigarettes. And I was sure my hair was a mess. I didn’t like being surprised.

  “What’d you guys do last night?” Liv asked, then wandered over to where my guitar sat in a corner and picked it up. Help yourself, I thought, mildly annoyed. Liv tuned the already perfectly tuned guitar while pretending she wasn’t listening intently for my answer.

  “Nothing. The usual,” I said.

  “What’s the usual?” she asked.

  “Just hanging around. I don’t know. Why?” There was an edge in my voice. Had she heard something? Why was she suddenly so fascinated by what the Lost Kids and I were doing?

  “No, I just—you guys make it seem like you’re always off having so much fun.”

  She had to be kidding. She made it sound like we’d turned a negative into a positive. That we weren’t dying for the training they were getting, that we weren’t just looking for things to do, biding our time.

  “Trust me, we aren’t.” Liv glanced up at my sharp reminder.

  “You all seem close, like a secret club.”