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  “Pardon me,” I said brusquely to the neighbor.

  “What? Hard to mingle with us plebs? Once there was a time when the rich gave a shit—the Rockefellers, the Carnegies.”

  Wow. I moved farther away from the guy.

  “Here, let me give you my card.” Louie had his card at the ready and held it out for me. “I have a real estate venture I know you’d be interested in.”

  To avoid a scene, I quickly took the card, but he held on to it, pulling it back. I looked up, focusing on him anew.

  “You need to put all that money somewhere,” he said, almost leering. Then he let go.

  In my mind, I shoved him away from me, hard. He stumbled a foot backward onto the grass, almost losing his balance. The look on his face was startled surprise at first. Half a second later, it changed to wariness as he realized that he hadn’t felt anyone actually touch him.

  I had been ready to intrude on Allie and John, but now I had to move. I walked with my eyes downcast, headed anywhere that was away from this man and the party. Now on a roll, I mentally gave a push to the boy who was clearly thinking about the girl behind him. He bumped into her, and from the corner of my eye, I saw them spin around to face one another as he apologized.

  I made my way to the side yard where the lawnmower and trash cans were kept and drew up short when I saw that Alex’s boyfriend, August, had had the same idea.

  “Augustine,” I said by way of greeting.

  “Julia Jaynes,” he drawled, smiling and giving a nod of his head in acknowledgment. Besides John’s family, he was one of the few people who knew that John and I were together. August started to put out the cigarette.

  “Don’t on my account.”

  August pulled the pack out of his back pocket and offered one to me. I looked around and then reluctantly took it. The last cigarette I’d smoked had been months ago with the Lost Kids, my private name for the group of boys from my extended family who, like me, had been told not to use their abilities. We’d been a close group, crushed by the rules, banded together out of desperation and rebelliousness. We had all believed Novak’s promise that once we moved on to a permanent home, once the Puris’ last Relocation was over, we’d all be taught how to use our full abilities. In the meantime, I had been told to tamp down my distinctive traits: my powerfully acute senses, my off-the-charts aptitude in school and sports, the always-right premonitions, the telekinesis. Only the chosen kids, like my sister, had been tutored by the adults without interruption.

  Most of us had found ways to cheat. I had most of all. I bowed my head to hover over the lighter that August held for me.

  “Or shouldn’t I call you that anymore?” he said.

  “What?” I straightened and took a big inhale, leaning all my weight against the wall of the house behind me.

  August flicked a piece of tobacco from the tip of his tongue. “Alex said you were thinking of changing your name once you moved to California.”

  “Alex talks a lot.”

  August laughed. “Well, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m thinking about it.” I realized I didn’t need to justify myself to August and explain that all I wanted was a fresh start. To fly under the radar and blend in, to be able to go to a party like this one and act my age.

  I changed the subject. “You should stop smoking,” I said, meaning it and then realizing how obnoxious that sounded.

  “What about you?”

  How to explain it didn’t do anything to me? I was immune to the side effects.

  “I should too,” was all I said, tugging at the hem of my shorts.

  “Nice spread in Vogue.”

  “Ha. Teen Vogue, right? Someone showed it to John. Paparazzi photos of me walking down the street?”

  “You didn’t see it?” August asked, amazed.

  “No, I stopped reading all news and magazines,” I said more vehemently than I had intended.

  August tried to smooth over the moment. “I didn’t see it, but I heard about it. ‘Street-style icon.’ Nice.”

  “Yeah, since then I’ve stopped wearing nice clothes as you can see.” I gestured to my running clothes.

  “Why?”

  “The less attention the better, I think.” I tipped my chin to the greater beyond where John’s parents were hosting his graduation party.

  “They’re just worried you’re going to break his heart again,” August said.

  I’d meant to be light. I didn’t want to know what John’s parents really thought of me in case it would hurt.

  “There’s a better chance he’ll break mine,” I said seriously. I’d promised myself I would never hurt him again.

  “Do you have security here?”

  “No. I really didn’t want Stuart to come.”

  “Why?”

  “The Fords would think it was weird. They don’t like the whole circus.”

  “I think they get it that you’re the richest girl in the world and you need security.”

  “I’m not the richest girl in the world.” I didn’t like to talk about it.

  “Do you worry about getting kidnapped?” August asked.

  “No. Besides, it wouldn’t be worth it for any kidnapper. There isn’t anyone left to pay my ransom,” I joked. It was a little too dark of a thing to say. For a second, August was taken aback. But what was the point of hinting around about it? Everyone at this party knew I was the daughter of a world-famous fugitive.

  “Are you glad you stayed behind?” August asked.

  No one had asked me that in the six months since my family—an entire group of sixty people—had disappeared off the face of the earth.

  “Yes,” I finally said. It was the truth. But it had been more difficult than I had thought it would be. I missed my sister, Liv, so much. It was as if she had died.

  August kicked at a fire ant pile with the toe of his white tennis shoe. “I can’t believe the whole family is leaving for the summer. Do you think Kathleen and Taro planned to be teachers just in case they had tennis prodigies for children? Then they’d be free to take Alex and John to the big tournaments across the United States all summer? It kind of seems too perfect.”

  “Seriously. It all worked out like it was according to some master plan. Why are you hiding over here by the way?”

  “Eh. Their grandma isn’t so into me. The black boyfriend.”

  “I haven’t met her yet,” I said. “Are you sure she even cares?”

  “Maybe, who knows? But Kathleen and Taro and John are all going out of their way to make me feel comfortable. Alex keeps trying to put his arm around me in front of her.”

  I started laughing. It felt good to socialize. August was my ally since he was also an outsider dating a Ford son.

  “It’s going to rain,” I said, looking up at the sky. I was thinking it would be a good time to leave, before it poured, when I heard the heavy breathing of the neighbor’s dog as he barreled up to the fence opposite August and me. He began barking maniacally, sensing I was different, and hurled himself against the weathered wood.

  Just then John’s mom rounded the corner. August furiously stamped out his cigarette but was still busted. A beat ahead, I made sure my cigarette was already out of sight.

  “August, honey. Really?” Kathleen chastised and gave him a quick one-arm hug to take away the sting. “I just came to investigate why this dumb dog is barking. You two are agitating him by standing here, I hate to say it. And I don’t especially want our guests hanging out by the trash cans. Come back to the party.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” August said politely.

  “Seriously, August, if you smoke, that’s on you—you know better. But I don’t want my kids smoking.”

  August glanced at me, confused because Kathleen was singling him out.

  God, I didn’t even smoke anymore and I’d almost bee
n caught by John’s mom the one time I did. I hadn’t even felt her coming until the very last second. I’d been working on dulling my hypersensitivities. It had felt necessary during these past few months of intense scrutiny and speculation, but now I was close to making stupid mistakes.

  Kathleen left us to return to her guests.

  “Damn,” August said. “What is it about the Fords that makes me always want to please them?”

  “Because they actually care,” I said.

  I walked partway back to the party with August.

  “Group photo!” someone called. “Quick! Before it rains!”

  I stopped in my tracks. I had no choice but to leave now.

  “Not your thing?” August said.

  “No, I’m trying to keep a low profile. You know, stay off social media.” I knew how that sounded. Annoying. Self-involved. I wished I could tell him it was John I wanted to keep off the radar. I didn’t want them to find him.

  I hung back as August rejoined the party. From my vantage point, I watched everyone begin to arrange themselves for the photo. I saw a John I wasn’t used to seeing—one who had a life completely apart from me. He was surrounded by people who loved him and had helped raise him. Teammates, coaches, friends. From across the yard, our eyes locked.

  He had no idea how much I wished I could stay.

  I heard one woman whisper to another, “Is that her?”

  The rain started coming down hard, and people scrambled to move inside. In the chaos, it would take a few minutes for John to realize I’d left.

  I slipped out of the gate and began jogging home in the rain. When I was far enough away, I texted John: Got a little camera shy—heading home.

  I wasn’t in any hurry to shut myself back inside the W so I ran lightly, slowly, only half-seeing the lake now emptied of boats.

  Thirty minutes later, discouraged and dripping from the rain, I woodenly walked down the long, empty hallway of my floor at the W. Nearing the door to my apartment, I sensed heat behind it. I couldn’t help it—a huge smile broke out over my face.

  I deftly punched in the lengthy security code that must have been entered just moments before.

  Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it, wishing I wasn’t so obviously blushing with pleasure.

  John stood patiently in the middle of my living room, his phone at his side, looking like he had all the time in the world, like he hadn’t just left his own party. The Ford’s new dog, Spirit, pranced excitedly by his side.

  “Hey,” I said, trying for nonchalant, which was impossible because I couldn’t stop smiling.

  He smiled gently, his voice gravelly when he spoke. “Hey.”

  Then he cleared his throat and broke eye contact. John looked around the room, cocking his head to one side. “So I heard about a graduation party? At some rich girl’s apartment?”

  I pushed myself off the door, already holding my arms out.

  “You came to the right place.”

  AUGUST, two months later

  JOHN

  I’m just going to silently talk to you for a while so I don’t go crazy. I have to take my mind off what’s going on. I hope you can hear me, but I don’t want you to hear me because it would mean you’re nearby. And I want you close, but I don’t want you anywhere near this mess.

  Thinking back to the beginning of summer, I wish we’d just stayed in your apartment at the W. Why was I always rushing around? I should have appreciated every moment…

  JUNE

  Chapter Two

  “I guess the rain stopped,” I said. At the top of this high rise, my sunlit bedroom lived in the clouds. And I was floating, languorously lying with John on my king-size bed, the cool, white sheets half kicked off, forming shadowed hills and valleys.

  “It sucks. Sneaking around, rushing.” John kissed the side of my neck, just beneath my earlobe.

  “It’s almost over.” I smiled and watched the ceiling fan whir lazily above us. We were so close to making it out of the fishbowl called Austin. He just had his summer competitive tour to get through, and then we’d finally be together in California, where there would be no parents, and I’d be farther from the place that held so many memories of my missing family. California felt like the promised land.

  John rolled on his back to button his shirt and then moved onto his side, propped his head on his palm, and looked down at me. We always did this—push the limits of our time together. One minute became five, five became ten, and thirty minutes meant he’d be late to tennis practice or family dinner. Recently, he missed an entire match. John bore the brunt of any consequences, but it didn’t ingratiate me to the Fords. He began grazing his fingers over my collarbone, absentmindedly drifting down my arm. I held my breath as he lowered his hand to the hem of my T-shirt. Suddenly his fingers slid underneath and ran up to the side of my ribcage where he knew I was ticklish.

  “Stop!” I jerked away, laughing. The white duvet at the foot of the bed slithered like a giant octopus to the floor.

  I tried to stop laughing and catch my breath, daring to come near him again. I rested my wrist on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about the party. I was just kind of blindsided by the crowd. I shouldn’t have left without saying good-bye. So thank you for coming to me.”

  “Thank you for having me,” John said softly.

  We both smiled, still staring at each other after all these months like we couldn’t believe that we got to be with the other person.

  “I wanted to tell you,” I said. “I got an email from Stanford last week that I didn’t open. Then, this morning, I got something in the mail. I haven’t opened it either. It’s next to you in the bedside table. Will you?”

  John turned quickly and my arm fell away. He opened the drawer.

  “It’s big. That’s good.” He sat up higher in bed, leaned against the headboard, and extracted the first page with the official Stanford letterhead. Watching him closely, I knew when he had read for one second too long and the chance for good news had passed.

  John handed me the letter. “It’s not no. They just want to meet you face-to-face.”

  I read it and tried not to display my surprising disappointment that more steps to admittance were required. I’d assumed it was an acceptance packet. Still, I should have been immensely relieved it wasn’t a done deal. “Look when it’s scheduled. That’s Nationals.”

  “Promise me, you’ll at least go to this interview. It’s only at the start of Nationals. You can be there for the later rounds.”

  “I don’t know. Stanford or not, I’m still moving to California.”

  “That’s not the same as going to college. With me.”

  I paused and then decided to be honest. Pulling my knees to my chest, pretending to be concerned with the chipped nail polish on one toe, I admitted, “I’d be scared all the time.”

  I glanced up to meet John’s eyes, and I could see I’d surprised him.

  “Haven’t you gotten used to the pointing and whispering?” he asked.

  “No.” I shook my head. “That sucks. It’s more than that though. It’s too hard to be trying not to…to have to always be self-aware if I’m doing or saying something I shouldn’t. I know there would be a lot I could learn, but I would spend more of my time hiding myself and my abilities. In addition to everyone knowing I’m loaded.”

  I thought John wouldn’t know what to say and would see my point.

  “You already made it through senior year at Austin High. You’ll fit in a lot better at a big school where there’s more freedom.” He grabbed the tall, skinny bottle of water on the bedside table next to him and handed it to me. I’d just been about to ask him for it.

  I took the water and unscrewed the plastic cap. “There’s more scrutiny now. I’ve stopped using all my abilities, but I could mess up and do something telekinetic in public, or anticipate something I s
houldn’t be able to. There’s the small stuff that adds up to make people suspicious or it could be one big thing. Some of the Puri tribe went to business school or med school to learn something for the benefit of the whole group, but I don’t know how they made it through and now there’s no one left to ask. And I seem to have more abilities than the average person in my…”

  I stopped talking when he gave me a look. With those incredible eyes, he looked deep into mine, making me pay close attention to what he was about to say.

  “Don’t give up your abilities just because you stayed behind. I know you’re scared, but you are the strongest person I know. You broke away from an entire way of life when that was all you knew. You’ve managed completely on your own. Have faith in yourself.”

  I smiled, but looked down, blowing off his compliment. “That is such a Ford thing to say. You sound just like your dad giving his toast.”

  My eye glimpsed something in the open drawer.

  John saw it too. After a pause, he reached out and extracted the delicate necklace.

  He held it high for both of us to see. A nugget of rough gold hung from a fragile chain.

  “You kept it.”

  “I didn’t know what to do with it.” I cleared my throat, wanting to tell him to put it away, but was spellbound. It was original gold carried by my ancestors who’d fled their home in Peru after a genocide. Through all the years of wandering, of hiding their differences, of relocating every twenty years, they’d kept it with them. Loosely translated, our name for ourselves—Chachapuris—meant walkers or those who walk the earth.

  We watched the necklace swing like a pendulum, transfixed. The night it had been given to me, I’d been at the height of my abilities. I remembered how good that had felt, however briefly.

  “Julia,” John said softly.

  “What?” I asked, still staring at the necklace, the last trace of my heritage.