Select Few

by Marit Weisenberg

  The car I’d traveled in had been the last to leave for the airport. John had already been seated on the plane by the time I arrived, just as they were closing the gate. When I’d walked down the aisle past him to my assigned seat, I saw he had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.

  When the fasten seat belt sign mercifully went off, I jumped out of my seat and carefully made my way back up the aisle.

  “Can I trade seats with you?” I asked. Paul looked at me, and wordlessly I handed him my boarding pass. There were curious onlookers. What had I expected? The pack of us walked aboard the airliner wearing an assortment of clothes from a Denver Odd Lots store. No one could have missed the incredibly beautiful and nearly identical looks of most of the kids. Not to mention the kids’ saucer-like blue eyes, openly watching all of the outsiders surrounding them.

  The last time we had been out in public in a group this size had been at Barton Springs. And this was a much tighter space, and we were right up close to other people. Maybe it would get easier and my instincts to separate and hide everyone would begin to relax. But for now, the trip was still interminable. Liv didn’t help matters when she easily caught a carry-on from an overhead compartment that fell hard in the flattened palm of one hand. Passengers in the vicinity had already had their eyes glued to her before that happened.

  “Hey,” I said. John opened his eyes when I took the seat next to him, treading not so gingerly over Angus on the aisle seat. I was sure that was part of the reason John was closing his eyes. Of all the rows, they had to be seated together.

  It was incredible that Angus was with us instead of remaining detained, in danger of being locked away. In the millisecond I allowed myself to meet Angus’s eyes in John’s vicinity, I saw the glinting satisfaction. All I could think was that he must have traded information in exchange for his freedom at the moment. From random bits of information Angus had sometimes dropped since he resurfaced, it was clear his father, once my father’s best friend, had told Angus all he knew about the Puris’ future plans and the way the money was hidden and flowed. Lati must have known it was Angus’s insurance to trade if the FBI caught up to him. It would remain to be seen if this was the end of Angus’s legal troubles. But I guess Rafa felt confident enough that Angus could be found and wouldn’t run again.

  “Hi.” John shifted and fidgeted, moving the shade up, glancing at the cushions of white clouds before sliding the shade loudly back down in place again. We hadn’t been able to talk alone yet.

  “What did they say to you?” John asked, facing me.

  “It was mostly sketching the mine. Then when I got to the office, Officer Kelly from Austin took me to a back room and questioned me, alone and with Liv. What about you?” I asked.

  “Same—where I thought we’d come from. They took statements separately from everyone while the rest of us waited in a conference room. Then they talked to the whole group about helping them get some identification.”

  That was another good sign that Rafa meant what he said, that we were free to go.

  “They must be trying to find the others,” I said. There hadn’t been any mention of tracking the adults. Seemingly, they’d managed to disappear. Victor was right—it was what they were good at.

  “Are they going to keep searching for your father?” John asked.

  “I’m sure. They at least want to see where we were. I told them they didn’t need to worry about Novak anymore. But I guess they want to see for themselves. Rafa—Officer Kelly—is nonstop until he gets what he wants,” I said, annoyed, but it was also kind of funny.

  “Once I explained who I was, they handed me a phone and I called my parents,” John continued.

  I sucked in my breath but didn’t say a word. I wanted to touch John, but I was aware of Angus. John’s tone and body language were neutral, as if he were still in self-preservation mode, and frustratingly, I couldn’t read him. I didn’t want to approach too quickly, unsure of how he was feeling about me, about what he’d seen.

  “I was berated for about half an hour by my mom,” John whispered, not wanting Angus to hear our conversation. Which was in vain of course, since Angus could hear every word, though he pretended to be sleeping.

  “They thought I got cold feet about being on the national stage and ran off with you. That’s what Alex told them.”

  I couldn’t help it and started to laugh. “I thought there would be a nationwide manhunt for you.”

  John ran his fingers through his hair and looked at me with exhausted eyes. “Not at all. It gets better. My coach said I had an injury so I’d save face. So it was all a non-story. Except for people feeling sorry for me for getting so close.” John shook his head. “My mom is going to meet me at a hotel near Stanford. Tuesday is move-in day.”

  “Your family must hate me. You must hate me,” I hadn’t meant to push it, but I was dying inside waiting to see where we stood.

  “Why would you say that?” John said more loudly, his voice gravelly and annoyed. I could feel Angus’s smile next to me.

  “Why do you think?” I said, very softly. “Look what almost happened to you.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t listen to you.” John leaned forward in his seat to shoot Angus a dirty look. Angus was now openly smirking, though his eyes were still closed.

  “How did you know what to do—at that moment?”

  John understood exactly what I was referring to. His dark eyes held mine. “Haven’t you ever had a premonition?”

  Then I realized he was repeating my own words back to me. Last year he’d asked me how I’d known to save Liv from drowning that first day he met me and I’d responded simply that I’d had a premonition.

  The intercom interrupted us with an announcement.

  “Were you scared?” I asked when the noise cut off.

  “I’ve never been that scared in my life, and I’ll do anything to never be that scared again.” John pulled the shade up again to distract from the weight of his words.

  “Where does that leave us?”

  John turned his head to look at me so hard I wanted to squirm. There was a long pause. “You are the love of my life,” he said, staring into my eyes. His look held a mixture of assurance and annoyance. “Are you really going to question that?”

  “Noooo,” I said, backing off and smiling. This was our real first moment of being together free and clear. I knew he could see on my face how ecstatic I was that he was still sure.

  “You’re sure?” John asked, taking me by surprise. He twirled his grandmother’s bracelet on my wrist.

  “Of course. How can you even ask that?”

  “It’s still happening. It’s going to keep happening, and I’m not going to stop it.”

  “Can I ask you for a favor?” I asked.

  “What?” John asked warily.

  “Just go slow, be cautious,” I said. “Let me check out this Institute for Progressive Learning and see if we’re really free.”

  Both John and Angus asked at the exact same time, “What Institute?”

  It seemed a long time ago that I’d come out of that interview, and I realized I’d never been able to tell John. And Angus—he’d been long gone. Or so I’d thought.

  As beverages were served and both boys restlessly shifted in the narrow seats, I outlined the basics, making them read between the lines for much of it, given the excessive interest all around us.

  I expected Angus to start mocking me, telling me I was an idiot to trust Miriam, but instead he shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a start,” he said and then he got up swiftly from his aisle seat and walked to the back of the plane, presumably to find his friends, maybe to tell them what I’d just said, though he was acting unimpressed. He was feeling competitive, I realized. It made me want to laugh again.

  “So you’re actually going to go to Stanford,” John said.

&n
bsp; “Yep.”

  “I never really believed it. Am I forcing you into it?”

  “No, it’s something I really want.”

  “Where are you going to live?” he asked, reluctance in his voice.

  “I won’t stay at the cove, okay? But I will visit.”

  John nodded, appeased that I wouldn’t be living near Angus if Elizabeth let him stay.

  “Stanford offered me accommodations,” I said, “which is a joke, so I’ll just live at the Rosewood, the hotel where I was staying.”

  “Can I make a deal with you?” John grabbed the back of his sweatshirt collar and pulled it over his head before settling back into his seat.

  “What?” Now I was wary.

  “Take those accommodations, Julia. Start over. Don’t hide in a hotel suite. It’s not life.”

  I was already shaking my head. “What if—”

  “Try it.”

  “What do I get in return?” I asked, joking. The plane suddenly shook, riveting from side to side with turbulence.

  Without a word, John reached for my hand. “I’ll be more careful. I don’t understand it, and sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’ll try to be more careful.”

  “And if I say no? Are you suddenly going to be showing off? Global tennis star?”

  “No.” John shook his head. “There are so many other things I’d rather do.”

  “Can I think about it?”

  John saw my worry and nodded.

  Without Angus there, I relaxed, no longer attuned to their dynamic. I hooked my foot behind John’s ankle and turned my back on the row across the aisle. John lifted the armrest, removing the separation between us, and met me halfway. For the first time in what felt like forever, we kissed, his hand cradling my cheek, my arm winding around his neck, his lips so soft on mine.

  John pulled away first. When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me closely. After a pause, he asked, “Could you hear my thoughts underground?”

  I gave a nod, expecting him to instantly make light of everything he’d told me. “Thank you for letting me in like that,” I said. “I loved being there.”

  John looked like he was quickly sorting back through all his thoughts to me. Then he nodded like he was accepting something.

  Maybe I’ll let you stay.

  SEPTEMBER

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Here she comes.” Angus knocked into my shoulder with his and gestured subtly behind him with his head.

  Elizabeth, dressed in her oversize sweater and leather flip-flops, appeared at the top of the stairs, her dramatic dark hair tied back. She took the last five steps to see me off, transporting her into the civilization that resided right above the cove.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” she asked, surprising me. Pulling her sweater closed, she looked all around. If what Emmanuel had said was true, this was the first time Elizabeth had left the cove in over ten years.

  “No,” I said quickly. “Stay with them.” I moved to face the beach below. If I squinted, I liked to think I could see figures playing in the surf.

  I looked back to my family. The sight of my mother and my sister standing next to each other was such a strange one. Liv had followed Elizabeth up, even though we’d said good-bye ten minutes earlier. I stood with the small bag of things I’d left at the beach, waiting for my rideshare to take me to college.

  “Thank you, again,” I said formally to my own mother. I hadn’t asked if it was okay. It had to be okay. This was the best place for the kids to rest up and the first stop in their re-entry.

  “It’s fine.” Elizabeth brushed it off. Fifteen kids displaced a lot of income. But there was something different about her when she’d greeted us the night before, a gentleness and a light in her eyes, like renewed excitement, like a part of her had come back to life.

  Whether Elizabeth liked it or not, she was a temporary mother figure. Like Peter Pan’s Wendy with her very own lost boys—and girls. The day she had let me and Angus in, after keeping young people off the beach for years, she’d begun to reopen the gates.

  My rideshare pulled up across the narrow street.

  I looked out at the shimmering ocean one last time, then picked up my bag where it sat amid the blackberry vines growing up from the sand and gravel.

  “Bye,” I said to Angus. “Make sure they behave themselves, okay? You behave yourself.”

  “You know me. Nothing to worry about,” he said jokingly. But at my look, his eyes grew serious, and we had a moment of shared understanding.

  Then Angus smiled. “You’re like an explorer,” he said lightly. “Come back and tell us what you find. Tell us when we can come too.”

  I watched Liv, who was staring at her feet, looking lost.

  “I’ll be back,” I told her for the millionth time.

  She nodded her understanding, but she pursed her lips, wanting to hold emotion inside. We had a long way to go before we felt at ease with each other, but we knew we had saved each other’s lives. Our bond had survived Novak’s ideals, her mother’s jealousy, our own resentments.

  “Thank you again, Elizabeth,” I said, looking over my shoulder at my ride, ready to say a quick, painless good-bye.

  When I was met with silence, I glanced at Elizabeth. She stood utterly still, making eye contact with someone across the street. I whipped around. All I saw was a beat-up yellow car pull away from the curb and the barest glimpse of a profile before it was gone. I wasn’t sure if it had been a man or a woman driving.

  “Someone you know?” I asked.

  “No, no. I don’t think so,” Elizabeth said quickly.

  I felt my driver’s impatience behind me.

  My last smile was forced. I turned and left them behind me, getting into the car with a stranger who had no idea he was delivering me to the next chapter of my life. I didn’t look back.

  The drive was clear as we sped down 280, sandwiched between rolling brown hills, passing the Crystal Springs reservoir. For the first twenty minutes, I pretended I wasn’t going anywhere special. I allowed myself twenty minutes until I let myself worry. The twenty minutes went fast.

  My heart began pounding when the driver took the exit that said Sand Hill Road and merged onto the wide road with its expansive view, heading downhill. I saw my former home, the Rosewood, pass outside my window. It took everything I had to not tell the driver to go back when the car swung a right onto Alameda, leading us directly into campus by way of the back roads bordered by oak trees, palm trees, and pine.

  The driver double-parked under a eucalyptus tree and wordlessly got out, rounding the car to retrieve my one small bag from the trunk. After all of those riches, I’d arrived at college with almost nothing. The situation could be remedied, but I’d come to realize how little I needed.

  It was still early in the day. Outside the car window, I could see banners of welcome hanging from buildings, students teeming down the street with their parents, carrying and wheeling belongings. I heard strains of greetings and introductions.

  I opened the heavy car door and forced myself to get out, stepping onto dirt and pine needles. Bikes zoomed by, proving there was a rhythm to daily life here I didn’t understand yet but would eventually learn if I was willing.

  I took my belongings from the driver and thanked him. Then, carefully, I picked my way across the road, wondering if I looked as conspicuously alone and clueless as I felt.

  I approached my new living space in Roble Hall, a Beaux Arts–style historic building with vines creeping over the façade. Suddenly, I couldn’t imagine myself ever going through with this.

  I instantly knew someone was watching me. I looked around and saw him. John, leaning nonchalantly against the pillar by the front door under the letter “B” spelling out Roble across the residence hall.

  I couldn’t believe he’d come.<
br />
  “I thought you had practice?” I said, trying to act normal, which was impossible with the huge smile on my face.

  “I have fifteen minutes. I had to see for myself if you’d actually show.”

  “I promised,” I said. John and I looked at each other steadily. It had seemed like an impossible promise.

  “Dr. Gottlieb just introduced herself to me.”

  Across the narrow street, an older woman with a headscarf tied neatly under her chin stood next to a light-blue bike sporting a metal basket. Miriam. I nodded to her. With formality, she nodded back. She climbed on her bicycle and kicked off, standing on the pedals to gather momentum before blending in to the crowd.

  “Hey. Sorry, I’m late.” John’s mom surprised me when she walked up to join us. “It is impossible to park.”

  “You have to go already?” I looked to John, assuming his mother had come to take him to his first practice.

  “I thought I could help you move in,” Kathleen volunteered.

  I straightened, surprised. “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to.” She seemed to mean it.

  John knew how much it meant to me that Kathleen had shown up to greet me. She understood that I didn’t have someone like her in my life. Someone motherly. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

  “Honey, why don’t you walk Julia inside? I just have to call Dad, then I’ll meet you up there. What’s the room number?”

  John stayed close, but I felt completely alone as I yanked open the door to the residence hall.

  “Your room should be midway down,” John said. He walked next to me, moving behind me to make way for a passing student. The boy nodded briefly in acknowledgment, brushing past us. I turned my head to watch Ahmet go down the hall in the other direction.

  “Do you know him?” John asked.

  “I met him on my first visit,” I said, smiling slightly.

  John stopped at a single door on the left side of the hallway. “This is it.”

  I realized neither of us knew whether to knock or just let ourselves in. I could feel more than one person on the other side.