Daphne’s features soften. “Are you sure, Juliet?”
“I am.”
“Then it’s settled.” She places her hands on her hips and glares at me. “Jesus, Caden, you haven’t changed at all. Come with me, I’ll get you cleaned up for dinner. Richard!” she hollers. “Bring a shirt down from your closet.”
What does she mean I haven’t changed at all? Was the first Caden a troublemaker? Shouldn’t Kaylee have told me?
Richard pops his head out from the kitchen. He has Juliet’s round face, kind eyes, and brown hair that’s buzzed super short. “What?”
“You heard me! Now go. Caden, follow me. Juliet, set the table.”
I follow her down a long hallway. We walk to a small white-tiled bathroom. A shiver runs down my spine at the sight of the bathroom, so clean, so similar to the LIC. I pause at the doorway, my toes wiggling into the comforting softness of the hall carpet, the air in my lungs feeling cold and clammy. I recall my mirrored cell, the classes that felt like torture, and the constant feeling of dread that accompanied every single day at that accursed place.
Daphne is standing in front of a gold-framed mirror, riffling through a first aid kit. She looks up and narrows her eyes. She does it the exact same way Juliet does: an expression that is clearly supposed to look stern, but actually looks cute. “What are you doing? Get in here.”
I shrug my shoulders. I’m free now, and I’m never going back there, so there’s no need to panic.
I walk into the bathroom and stop in front of her. She steps closer and peers at the cut on my temple.
“It’s just a scratch. He was probably wearing a ring. Does your head hurt?”
Obviously.
“It’s not that bad,” I say.
She turns on the tap. “That’s a good sign. Now wash the blood off and then put this”—she hands me a Band-Aid—“on the wound. You’ll be fine. And be quick about it! I’m starving.” Richard passes her a shirt and then she passes it to me. I start to grab it.
Her grip on the shirt tightens. “Just so you know, Juliet’s life has been so peaceful since you left. You show up and one day later this happens. I’m starting to think you’re a drama magnet, Caden.”
She releases the shirt and rushes out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I take my shirt off and take a second to check my body for injuries. There’s a fist-sized bruise on my lower back, but other than that I’m fine. I probably should tell someone about the bruise, but that could mean Juliet sending me home and I can’t risk that.
Carefully, I put on the new shirt, which is a navy dress shirt with black buttons. It feels soft and silky against my skin. I splash hot water onto my face and rub until my cheeks turn red.
My face still looks alien, too perfect to be me. Even though I’m tired and stressed, my skin looks tan and clean. The skin under my eyes matches the rest perfectly: there’s no darkness. Even with the injuries, including a small cut that slashes through my right eyebrow, I look good.
I splash one last handful of water onto my stupid perfect face and walk out of the bathroom.
In the dining room, Juliet and her mom are seated, chatting. I walk in and the conversation nose-dives. Juliet dips her head slightly and smiles, but one hand reaches out and fiddles with her fork. Her mother raises one hand and places her thumb under her chin, inspecting me like I’m a piece of art. Which I guess I am. All I’m missing is the doctor’s signature on my ass.
Richard enters with a tray containing a golden roasted chicken, crispy potatoes, and carrots dripping with oil. The smell of it makes my mouth water.
“Caden,” he says as he places the tray in the middle of the table. After pulling off his oven mitts, he walks over to me. “Look at you!” He squeezes my shoulder. “I hardly recognize you! You’ve lost a lot of weight. Now sit, and let’s see if we can put some of those pounds back on.”
“Sounds like a plan!”
I take a seat opposite Juliet.
“So what happened to you?” he asks as he slices into the chicken. “Why were you bleeding onto my carpet?”
“Just some thugs.”
“Just some thugs?”
“Yep.”
Juliet leans forward. “It wasn’t a big deal, Dad.”
“It is a big deal! You think I’m going to let you go out at night alone now that I know … thugs are roaming the streets!”
Juliet rolls her eyes. “Dad, we have company. Can you not be overprotective for two seconds? And look at this.” She shows him her fist. The knuckles have been scraped raw. “I punched one of the guys. I’m not defenseless.”
He puts his knife and fork down and turns to me. “No offense, Caden, but this is a conversation I need to have with my daughter right now. Juliet, if the streets aren’t safe, you aren’t going to go out alone. It’s that simple.”
“Richard,” says Daphne. “It’s fine. Trust me.”
Juliet thumps her fist down on the table. “Why am I being punished when they attacked me?”
“You aren’t being punished, you’re being kept safe.”
Juliet scrunches up the napkin she was holding. “Dad, drop it. Let’s have dinner.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Daphne turns to me. “See,” she says. She’s smiling fondly. “Even though you’ve been gone for so long, some things haven’t changed. These two are still fighting the same old fights. It’s kind of comforting, isn’t it?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it is.”
Juliet lets out a little burst of laughter, and the mood of the entire room lifts. Her dad passes me a helping of chicken, two potatoes, and half a carrot. I pour a splattering of gravy out of a jug with a cow on it over everything and serve myself a huge scoop of cauliflower casserole. Then, to finish everything off, I grab a roll and bite into it. It’s soft and fluffy and the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Obviously, bread wasn’t allowed at the LIC. We practically lived on steamed chicken breasts and green veggies.
Whoa, Caden, watch those carbs.
Do you expect me to not eat? That’ll look weird.
Fine. Just be careful with your portions.
Juliet’s plate matches mine, and she’s eating with such ferocity I feel it’s okay to ignore Kaylee and do the same. I cut off a big slice of chicken and stuff it into my mouth. It’s so freaking delicious I’d smile if my mouth weren’t so full.
“My God, look at the two of them,” says her dad. “It’s like they’re never fed. I promise we do feed her, Caden.”
Juliet and I glance at each other, grin, and dive right back in.
After dinner, I’m leaning back on the chair with my hands on my stomach. Kaylee is yammering on about something, but I’m so full and dreamily content that I don’t listen.
Juliet’s hands are resting on her extended stomach. She actually does look slightly pregnant.
“Dad, I have something to tell you.” She snorts.
I extend my own stomach. “Well, Juliet, I have something to tell you.”
We burst out laughing. Both her parents roll their eyes in exactly the same way.
“I’ll go get dessert,” says Daphne. “Although let it be said that I don’t think giving either of you sugar is a good idea if you find that joke hilarious.” But she’s smiling a soft smile, so I know she doesn’t mean it.
Juliet keeps looking at me, and every time I catch her looking, she turns her head away and pretends she wasn’t watching.
Sorry, Dyl.
Your play didn’t work. You hit me.
But you’re the one on the ground.
CHAPTER
TEN
After dinner, Juliet invites me for a tour around her house. Obviously I accept, so I’m following her as we walk on the sandstone edge of her pool. There was no script, so I’ve had to improvise. Kaylee’s in my ear in case I get stumped by a particularly tough question, but for the most part, I’m on my own. I decide I should pretend to be an excited guy who is stunned by her affluence. So far,
I think I’ve pulled it off.
I dip my hand into the water.
Invite her for a swim. It would be great for her to see your body.
It’s too soon, Kaylee. Trust me.
Juliet’s house is a freaking mansion. Like, it’s way too big for the three people who live here. There’s a gym almost as large as the private ones at the LIC, a tennis court, a guesthouse bigger than my house, and even a sauna. Every time I see something new I gawk at it and Juliet blushes.
She stops walking and faces me. “I know it’s a lot. But it’s not like it’s inherited money. Both Mom and Dad have worked hard to have all this.”
She’s explained that four times now. Her mom is a famous cookbook author, and her dad is a lawyer. Growing up, she spent a lot of time with her grandparents. But now that she can look after herself, her relationship with her parents has improved. Well, that’s the story she tells, but there’s something in the way she delivers it that makes me doubt her.
“Do you get along with your parents?” I ask.
“I guess. They pretty much let me do whatever I want. Dad’s controlling sometimes, but what father isn’t, right?”
“Right.”
She gasps. “Oh, Caden, I’m so sorry to talk about dads after what happened to you. That’s the height of selfishness, complaining about a controlling father to someone who lost his. I’m so sorry.”
Oh crap. I totally forgot that she thinks my dad is dead! I blink rapidly to fill my eyes with tears. “It’s okay, Juliet, it happened a long time ago. I miss him, and I always will, but you don’t need to treat the subject with kid gloves. I had a dad I loved, and then he died. It sucks, but it happened.”
She frowns. “Is your stepdad nice?”
I shake my head. “He’s horrible. He took most of Dad’s money and blew it on bad investments, so now we have pretty much nothing. It’s all right, though; I don’t let it get me down.”
“It’s a miracle you turned out to be as kind as you are, Caden. I’m just realizing this was a bad idea; it’s like I’m boasting about having all this stuff when it really doesn’t matter. You must think I’m the most entitled snob ever.”
“Juliet, I think you’re amazing, and all this stuff is mind-bogglingly cool. This was fun. Truly.”
She eyes me warily. Then she spins and starts walking away, her feet balancing on the very edge of the stone. The moonlight reflects in the aquamarine water, casting a weird blue light over everything.
Stare at her until she notices.
Why? That’s so creepy.
She’ll like it, trust me.
I look up and stare at Juliet. It takes her a few seconds, then her eyes meet mine and she blushes.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I can’t help it.”
“I—I,” she stammers. “I have no idea how to respond to that, so I’m going to ignore it. Anyway, Caden, I can’t believe I almost forgot to show you my absolute favorite thing. Do you want to see my lab?”
“Your what?”
“My lab … it’s short for laboratory.”
“I know, it’s just, um, I didn’t expect you to have one. That’s so cool! Of course I want to see it.”
We walk away from the pool onto a long stretch of grass. At the other side is a gray shed. She unbolts the door and opens it, then flicks on the light, revealing a huge cluttered workspace. There are three long metal benches evenly spaced above a smooth concrete floor. Each one of them is overflowing with metal contraptions, circuit boards, and pieces of smashed-up computers. It truly does look like the workspace of a mad scientist.
“I spend most of my time here,” she says. “If I ever need to get away from everything and create, this is where I come. I love making stuff, if you can’t tell. What do you think?”
Beside her is a rack of test tubes. Each one is filled with glowing blue liquid. I’m genuinely impressed. “This is the coolest place I’ve ever seen!” I say. “It’s like a museum. Can I touch stuff?”
“If you’re gentle, sure.”
I pick up a weird, shiny glovelike thing. It’s shaped like a hand, with the fingers connecting to a black Velcro strap that would fit around my wrist. Each of the fingers is a thin wire. At the very end of each wire is a silver pad.
“What’s this?”
She rushes toward me and plucks it out of my arms like it could sting. Gently, she places it back down on the bench.
“That’s one of the very few things in this whole room that could actually kill you. I call them Bolt Gloves.”
The name reminds me of static gel, an ointment they have at the LIC. A Love Interest puts it on his hands or torso before coming into contact with his Chosen, so that when they touch, the Chosen gets a faint electric shock. Thankfully, Kaylee decided I don’t need to use it. Wearing it is incredibly painful, as it shocks the Love Interest constantly before it’s washed off. I nearly cried the first time I had to put it on my chest.
“Now you officially have my attention,” I say.
“I’m trying to come up with a more effective device for personal defense. The idea is that you wear the glove, and to activate it all you have to do is press down on whoever is attacking you. Then, zap! It sends electricity through them, eliminating the threat. They work for the most part, but the amount of electricity they produce would still be fatal to all but the sturdiest people. So they don’t really work at all, because I don’t want to create anything that kills people. I’m aiming instead for seriously maimed. Like, imagine if I’d been wearing it tonight? I could’ve stopped the fight before it started.”
I point to the test tubes filled with glowing blue liquid.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, that’s not finished yet, but it’s supposed to be an alternative to sunscreen. My idea is that you apply this gel once a month and then you have complete protection from UV. Goodbye, sunburn. It doesn’t work yet, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.”
“That’s incredible, Juliet. This whole place is. When did you become such a genius?”
“I guess we both changed while we were apart. I got smart and you got hot.”
Her cheeks go red, then she points to the door. “But that’s enough for now, huh?”
But I’m barely listening.
Because my Chosen called me hot.
It’s still early, says Kaylee’s voice in my mind. But that sounded a lot like checkmate.
* * *
I’m in bed, watching the clock slowly tick by. It’s midnight.
After I got home, I cleaned my room, mainly because I was still processing my time with Juliet and it felt good to be doing something with my hands. Also, I was trying to figure out what to say to Dyl if he asked about it. Do I tell him she called me hot? At the moment I’m leaning toward not telling him, because even though we’re competing I don’t want to hurt him unnecessarily. I may not be Nice, but that doesn’t make me mean.
Now the floor is clear of clothes, my desk is dish-free, and everything has been wiped down. The room smells like the lemony cleaning chemicals I used, fresh and sharp. I’ve even left two bottles of beer that I swiped from the fridge on my desk. In case, well, Dyl decides to show up.
A knock sounds on my window. Yes! I slide out of bed, pull on a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, then walk over and open it. Dyl is there, in the darkness, grinning at me. He looks so different now that he isn’t Dylan, the heroic badass. He’s smiling and his eyes are wide and friendly, not narrowed like they were when I last saw him. I like this version of him so much more. He’s wearing a black shirt and dark jeans.
“You’re wearing black,” I say. “What a surprise.”
“Are you all right?” asks Dyl. He’s peering at my face. What’s that look in his eyes? Is it sympathy? I raise my hand and touch the bruise on my right cheek. Aside from that, there’s the cut on my eyebrow, but the pain feels like a headache; annoying, but not crippling. I’d actually forgotten about it.
“I’m fine,” I say as I step outside, passing him a beer as I make my way out. “It’s totally fine.”
“Good. I was worried. I told them not to attack you, but apparently you attacked them? What’s with that? They were supposed to try to mug Juliet, but when I got there it was a full-on brawl. I had to improvise.”
I bow my head slightly, nodding. “I figured out it was your big entrance. It made sense to try to derail it. Sorry.”
He laughs. “Don’t be sorry, I’m not mad at you. I just can’t believe you punched him in the face.” He grabs my hand and lifts it up. Just grabs it, like it’s no big deal, like it’s okay. He peers at scrape wounds on my knuckles. “That’s pretty badass, Caden.” I realize he’s literally holding my hand. I flinch away and rest my hand on my jittery thigh.
He looks at his own knuckles, which are bloodless. “I didn’t actually hit them. It was all rehearsed. And you wouldn’t believe how much Judy shouted at the guy who hit you. He was supposed to make you look weak compared to me, but he ended up wounding you, and everyone knows…”
“Wounded guys are hot,” I say, finishing his sentence. This lesson was drilled into us at the LIC, so it makes sense that Judy would be mad. In his anger, Dyl gave me an advantage and turned his big entrance into a positive for me. If I were his coach, I’d be livid.
“His name is Tom,” he continues. “He’s actually a pretty great guy. He seemed upset that he had to hit you. I’m sorry too, Caden. I really am.”
“What? Why? This is a fight, remember. A contest.”
“It is. But I don’t want to win this by hurting you. I just don’t.”
“You say that now, but when it comes down to it we’ll be scratching each other’s eyes out. It’s human nature.”
“Human nature sucks sometimes.”
He didn’t disagree.
He lies down. His black shirt pulls up a little, showing a sliver of his stomach. He has abs. I shouldn’t be surprised—all Love Interests have them—yet I find I’m kind of shocked by his body. What would Juliet think if she saw us side by side with our shirts off? Whose body would she prefer? I have a feeling it’d be his. I prefer his.
The Love Interest Page 9