Kinney. John recognized the older man who had come through after him as soon as he took a couple steps back from the point of collision. He'd seen the man at Savannah's party, of course. But, as the man had been drunk for most of it and John had wanted to avoid a fight like the one over the lighter Riley had once stolen, he'd steered clear of him. Since then he'd been focused on studying and catching up so he wasn't the loner weird kid who was also a month behind everyone else.
"It's John," he informed the man politely. "John Baum, Mr. Kinney." He wasn't at all sure what to do with the man's words other than answer the question. He could count on one finger the number of people who'd ever complimented his looks, even backhandedly -- and that hadn't even been his girlfriend, but some weird guy on the streets of Silver Lake...while he'd been on the phone to his mother. And that would explain the prickle of embarrassed heat in his cheeks.
Of course, the part pf him that remembered the rules -- avoid the desire to appear special or important -- was instantly suspicious of a middle aged man calling a jailbait kid 'gorgeous' for no reason. People who talked like that usually wanted something.