JUNE

Chapter One

Ten, nine, eight…

I focused on the elevator doors, counting down, tapping my foot, impatient to be out of the small space but always afraid of what I might find on the other side.

Three, two, one…

The silver doors parted.

Go.

It was a race to see how quickly I could blend in outside my hotel room. I strode through the lobby of the W Austin Hotel, eyes zeroed in on the glass and wood door in the distance.

Keep moving, always keep moving.

It was when I stood still in public that someone might recognize me.

“Have a good afternoon, Miss,” the residence concierge called as I passed by. I nodded, then put in my earbuds.

Before I saw them, I sensed the two paparazzi who lay in wait like sentries. An older man and a much younger woman, both of whom I’d seen before. I knew the exact moment they jolted to life at the sight of me. I could feel the intensity of their desire as they followed in my wake, ten feet behind me.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I wanted to prevent their interference on today of all days. I swung the heavy exit door open with one hand and let it fall closed behind me, brushing it with the tips of my fingers and sending enough energy through to make a hairline fracture. A spiderweb of cracks slowly spread through the glass. I was out the door, two strides away, when one of my stalkers touched the handle to exit and the glass shattered, sending shards cascading to the floor and leaving the two paparazzi to deal with the debris and attention inside the lobby.

Outside, the muggy, summer city smell hit me, and I started my run. Head down, I cleared the hotel and moved through the downtown streets, feeling my shoulders relax by the second. If there were any photographers, hopefully all they would see was a girl wearing dark running clothes, a baseball hat, and sunglasses.

Suddenly I realized I was happy. I’d really been looking forward to today.

At a stoplight I continued running through the yellow even as pedestrians behind me slowed, not wanting to take chances in the busy traffic. Soon enough I crossed the First Street Bridge to run on the shaded trail that snaked around Lady Bird Lake, its banks lined by thick, green overgrowth. It was cool for mid-June but humid. Since it was midafternoon, the runners had thinned on the trail, but a crowd was on the lake in full sun, paddleboarding and canoeing, the din of their talking and laughing echoing off the water. A few dogs off their leashes splashed at the edges of the lake while their owners stood nearby, chatting.

The very last stretch was so sparsely populated, I let myself go, running uphill in a sudden burst. The faster I ran, the sooner I’d arrive at the house. The cypress and sycamore trees flew past, the muddy ground blurring beneath my feet, the music pounding in my ears. I kept going, running away from all of it. From all the eyes on me. From the ghosts.

I saw someone up ahead with two pit bulls straining on leashes, and I immediately slowed my pace before he noticed my ridiculously fast speed. I leaned my head back, taking in the fresh air and the heat and life outside the walls of my sterile, white apartment. It was Saturday. I hadn’t been outside for three days.

Entering the Zilker neighborhood from the trail beneath Barton Springs Road, I passed Barton Springs pool on my right and kept my eyes straight ahead. It had been almost a year since I’d risked exposing my family’s secrets to save my sister from drowning in that very pool. My stomach tightened, and I tried not to think about her, my dad, stepmother, and the rest of those radiant, inexplicable creatures that were my extended family.

When I entered the neighborhood, marked by the ranch houses and bungalows, election signs in front yards, and cracked sidewalks I knew well, I slowed to a walk. Only a block away from my destination, I didn’t want anyone to see I’d been running in June heat but didn’t have a drop of sweat on me. I slowed even more when I noticed the large number of cars parked on both sides of the narrow street. Upon arrival at the curb in front of the Ford house, I was met with a “Happy Graduation” banner that hung on the red-painted front.

The door opened and three girls my age, still in their dresses for their graduation, exited onto the walkway, phones in hand. I could hear sounds of a party coming from the backyard. This wasn’t the small family gathering I’d assumed it would be.

The girls glanced in my direction.

“Is that who I think it is?” Though there was distance between us, I could easily hear the brunette with the floral sundress and messy bun murmur incredulously to the other two.

“What, are they back together?”

“No. The world would know.”

“Then why is she here?”

This was the reason I hadn’t gone to the graduation ceremony earlier in the day. I hated the scrutiny. But I’d reached the mailbox of the Ford’s house and turning away would be even worse.

The girls parted in front of the door to make more room for me.

“Hi. Excuse me,” I said, trying not to let my self-consciousness show.

I entered the house and carefully removed my sunglasses, tentatively stepping into the small living room. The sectional was piled with boys and a couple of men watching basketball playoffs on the TV. They all glanced up at once. I gave them a tight smile and averted my eyes.

French doors connected the living room to the small kitchen. Beyond it, smoke from the grill billowed past the open back door. From the sound of it, most of the party was outside. Cautiously, trying not to draw extra attention, I walked past the partygoers stationed in the kitchen and took the single stair down into the backyard.

At least forty people were scattered across the rectangular lawn—a collection of teens, their middle-aged parents, and some younger children playing horseshoes under the live oaks near the back fence, likely getting eaten by mosquitos in the damp grass.

My heartbeat picked up when I finally laid eyes on John. He stood on the grass in a group that included his younger brother, Alex, two other friends, and someone’s dad in a tie. John briefly turned to kick an errant soccer ball back to the little girls who played behind him. I smiled inadvertently and quickly stepped off to one side of the patio, under the scant shady cover of the eaves so I could watch for a moment unseen.

When we first met, I couldn’t acknowledge it, but now I saw that John was beautiful. He wore his almost black hair on the shaggy, sexy side. The brothers looked a lot alike, but John took after their father, more of his Asian heritage apparent with his much darker hair and eyes. Alex was a couple of inches shorter, and I guessed he would have killed to have John’s height since they both played tennis. John had the ideal build for the sport he had come to resent: tall, lean, but still muscular.

The graduation ceremony ended hours ago, but John still wore a white button-down, only now with the sleeves rolled and paired with shorts and flip-flops. I recognized the shirt as the one I’d borrowed the first night I ever came to his house. That was the night I told him the truth about my uniquely evolved family, when we ended the night pressed up against each other and the wall of his bedroom, unable to keep our distance.

I was glad John didn’t know I was studying him. I was always studying him, making sure nothing had changed—that he hadn’t changed—since the last time I’d seen him. Six months ago, John scared me when he told me about a vision he had of where my family was hiding. Visions were something only Novak, my father, could experience.

The night I ran away from home, the same night our entire clan seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth, Novak told me about a prophecy. He said that we would be able to read the mind of an outsider and that person would be essential to our survival. Up until that point, I’d had an idea that he wanted to prove there were more of us—genetically advanced humans—or at least that there were people who might be able to shift to become more like us. But I hadn’t known the details.

Novak had no idea that I’d been reading John’s mind for months already, ever since I’d been banished to a different school and told not to even think about using any of my abilities. At first, I had been embarrassed by my strange connection to an outsider. Then I found I was strangely and overwhelmingly drawn to John the more I listened in on his thoughts. When I left my family, I took my secret with me.

But nothing out of the ordinary had happened during the time I’d been with John and since the day my family disappeared from Austin. Now I sometimes wondered if John had had a vision at all. He seemed completely himself, a typical eighteen-year-old, and different from the perfect, unearthly kids I’d grown up with. That was part of why I was in love with him.

I saw the soccer ball right before it hit the shoulder of the man in the tie standing next to John. The force of the ball knocked the glass out of the man’s hand, and it flew through the air, projecting wine in one long, red arc. John extended his foot toward the flying glass, catching it on top of his flip-flop and shifting its descent from impact with the concrete of the walkway to a soft landing in the grass.

A quick, incredulous cheer erupted from the crowd.

“Nice reflexes,” the man in the tie said.

Alex shook his head at his brother. “What are you doing? Way to risk your tennis career to save a wine glass.”

Was this reaction something for me to worry about?

No, the man was right. It was just good reflexes.

The group still laughed, all except John, whose eyes were now on his father, Taro, who stood at one edge of the party, while another parent stood beside him tapping his glass with a utensil. The people in the yard quieted as they gave their attention to Taro.

In his strong, smooth voice, Taro said, “Thanks, everyone, for coming.” He cleared his throat. “They say time flies, but it moves even faster than you think. Suddenly I’m watching my oldest son and his friends graduate from high school. We’ve known many of you kids for years, and it’s been a privilege watching you grow up.”

I looked at John, who hated being the center of attention. He tensed in anticipation of what was coming next, a trickle of sweat traveling from his temple down his cheek.

“We also wanted to say—since we don’t say it enough—how proud we are of you, John. You’ve always surprised us. Kathleen and I will never forget when you were eight years old and we thought you and your brother were playing in the backyard. Being the most responsible parents in the world, we didn’t foresee that you’d just leave the yard. Much less that you’d lead your brother to the park across the street to watch the kids at a tennis camp. Suddenly we heard a knock on the door, and there was a man holding a racket, with you by his side, asking me if I’d ever seen you hit a tennis ball.”

Everyone laughed.

Taro smiled, but then his tone changed and he seemed to speak directly to John. “It hasn’t been easy having the schedule you’ve had. We worried because you always said yes to more practice and more tournaments and never complained. It’s taken incredible discipline to keep playing tennis hour after hour the way you have and when there were so many other things you said you wanted to try. When you came home early from Florida, we knew you were ready to quit.”

I glanced at John. His face betrayed nothing, which was how I knew Taro’s mention of being cut from the tennis academy got under his skin.

“Then, out of nowhere,” Taro continued, “it was like you became a different person.”

I stood up straighter and adjusted the brim of my hat.

“You got so focused. And that made the difference. You earned your scholarship, and now you’re going to college halfway across the country. We’ll miss you, but we couldn’t be prouder. Happy graduation.”

While everyone clapped, John’s mother, Kathleen, walked over to her son and put her arm around him. Taro joined them and pulled John’s head close to plant a quick kiss on top.

John must have felt someone watching him and looked up. Our eyes met, and our gazes held. Whenever he turned his full attention on me, my stomach still did a somersault. Alex noticed and gave John a small shove and said, “Go.”

“Excuse me,” John murmured to his friends and family.

My girlfriend’s here.

I was surprised for a second—I hadn’t been able to read his thoughts in months.

He must have remembered that I could read his mind because it went instantly blank, like he erected a wall to block me. John put that defense in place whenever he was with me now. It seemed like a long time since his thoughts had been an open book.

His dad put a hand on John’s shoulder, stopping him from escaping. I heard Taro say, “Can you find a chair for your grandmother?” He gestured to the opposite end of the crowded yard.

John gave me a look that said, “I’ll be right back.”

Damn. More waiting.

All I wanted was to be with him and now I needed to say good-bye in public while pretending to be just friends. He should have warned me the party was going to be so big.

The clouds had passed in front of the sun and the air felt heavy. While I waited for him, I watched the partying. I’d seen many of the kids from school. I never forgot a face; each one was cataloged in my brain. I kept myself mildly entertained observing a boy and girl who had their backs to one another but whose slight tilt of their heads and the angling of their shoulders gave away the attraction between them.

Still, slowly, as if I were on stage and they were my audience, all eyes began to find me. No matter how I dressed, no matter how I tried to avoid eye contact, I’d learned over time that there was something about me and my family that always attracted people’s attention.

Time to move.

“You’re Julia Jaynes, right?” A man in a checkered shirt with a heap of straw-colored hair practically jumped in front of me.

“Hi,” I said with practiced politeness.

“I recognized you! I’m Louie. I just moved in down the street.”

“Ah,” was all I could think of to say.

“Any leads on your father?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” I tried to take a step back, but the wall of the house was already at my heels.

“What about that kid with the super strength? The one they’ve tried to explain away. Where’s he hiding?” Louie joked, wiping his brow.

When I didn’t answer, he said, “I like how you have a watchfulness about you. Do people think you’re superhuman too?” Louie laughed.

“That’s funny,” I said, deflecting.

I searched over Louie’s shoulder for John. He was close but blocked by a couple I knew were the Ford’s best family friends, visiting from Chicago. They were much like the Ford family—one white parent and one Asian parent. They were extending their congratulations and taking a photo of their daughter, Allie, with John. I was well aware that Allie had been the first girl John had ever had sex with.

“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 been 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.”