In this case, all I could think about was that he'd actually told me his real name. I had lied and told him my name was John that rainy, wet night in the church parking lot. After that shame passed, a new one overwhelmed me. I felt worse than I'd ever felt in my life. On the one hand, I was scared to death that Ssnake would recognize me and talk. Guilt rolled through me and gained the momentum of an avalanche. He'd go down swinging, I'd be outed, and they'd kick me out of the League faster than I could say homo. Belonging to this group was the only good thing in my life, and I was about to lose it all. My father would disown me, I'd be reviled by everyone I ever knew—forever linked to the notorious hero killer. The muscles in my legs shook, and I prayed I wouldn't pass out. The camera lights were cooking me up on that stage, and I desperately wanted to run off somewhere cool to get a glass of water. Then again, maybe he wouldn't say anything.
