The Love Interest

by Cale Dietrich

  “Shoot.”

  “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

  “Trevor,” says Natalie, her tone harsh. “Don’t be mean.”

  “I’m not being mean. But come on, look at him, he’s blushing at the sight of us. He’s the most innocent thing I’ve ever seen.”

  What should I say, Kaylee?

  No response.

  I shrug my shoulders. “It’s fine. Um, yeah, I have. Kissed someone, I mean. I’m not as innocent as I look.”

  Isn’t that the truth.

  “I don’t believe that for a second. Who have you kissed?”

  Dyl. I kissed Dyl, and it was possibly the best moment of my life.

  “Does it matter?”

  “It does, man. I want to be your friend and I know none of your romantic history. So fill me in! Who was she? What did she look like?”

  His use of the word “she” makes me flinch. He said it so confidently, like I would only ever want to kiss girls. I know that’s not the case, and that wanting to kiss another boy is perfectly normal, but he doesn’t seem to know that. What am I supposed to do, contradict him and make this a big thing? I could never do that because I’m a Love Interest, but the fact that he didn’t even give me the option to be gay makes me want to throw something at him.

  “I’d like to know too, Caden,” says Natalie, her tone soft, like I’m pathetic even though they’re the ones who started this conversation. They brought it up, and now they get to judge me because my answer is unsatisfactory to them? Why is that fair? “If you want to tell us, that is. It’s cool if you don’t. Have you ever been in a relationship?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.” I step backward out of the room. “Sorry.”

  I return to the kitchen. Richard is reaching up to the cupboard above the stovetop. His body is fully stretched out, but he can’t seem to reach the saucepan he’s trying to grab.

  “Here,” I say. I walk over and quickly grab the saucepan. Then I pass it to him.

  “Thanks, Caden. Daphne wasn’t really thinking when she designed this place. She figured since she does the most cooking it wouldn’t matter that I can’t reach the pots!”

  I chuckle. “Do you need any more help?”

  “If it’s not too much trouble, there’s one last thing. Can you chop up this celery for me?”

  A gigantic piece of celery is sitting on a wooden chopping board. I walk toward it and pick up the silver knife. I cut off the head, then slice the body into thin slivers.

  Hey, Caden, it’s Kaylee. Sorry I was slow, I had a date, but I’m here now.

  “You and Juliet seem to be getting along,” Richard goes on. The celery crunches beneath the knife. “Is there anything you want to ask me? I’m here now.”

  “We aren’t dating, if that’s what you’re asking. We’re just good friends.”

  He blinks. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt.”

  “Keeping secrets isn’t my thing.”

  “That’s a rare quality. And if you respect me enough to be honest I will return the favor. I think you’re a good young man, Caden, I really do. And I think you would be kind to Juliet. But you must understand, it’s my job to make sure she becomes the woman she was born to be. She’s destined for greatness, you must know that, and, well, all boys your age hurt girls eventually. You just do. So I want you to think hard about what your relationship with Juliet is, because—”

  “Dad?” Juliet is standing in the doorway, glaring at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I was talking to Caden about—”

  “I can’t believe you! Caden and I aren’t even dating and you’re already freaking him out!”

  “But you will be soon enough. I see the way you look at each other. I’m not as smart as you but I’m not an idiot, Juliet.”

  “You can be sometimes, Dad. Seriously, I don’t know what you want from me. You want me to get married, yet you don’t want me going anywhere near boys or, God forbid, having sex! It’s like you want me to be alone but are also judging me for not having a serious boyfriend!”

  He puts the pot he was holding down on the counter. “You’ve got so much potential, Juliet. I don’t want you throwing it all away for the first hot boy you see.” He turns to me. “Not that I think you’re hot, Caden. I’m using lingo to try to relate to her. I read it in a book.”

  “Dad, seriously, please stop talking.”

  “I’m just trying to protect you, Juliet. That’s all. You’ll probably thank—”

  “Caden,” interrupts Juliet. “Come with me. I’m done. So done.”

  I follow her out of the kitchen into a small hallway. The walls are lined with framed photos from holidays she and her family have been on. In the one closest to her, Juliet is standing in front of the Colosseum with her arm flung around her mom’s shoulders.

  Right now, she’s leaning against the wall, her head pressed limply against the plaster. I lean on the wall opposite from her. Our legs are inches apart.

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry about him. He’s dramatic. We both are, in a way. It’s embarrassing—you probably think I’m a brat. A spoiled, rich brat.”

  “He was being pretty weird. I’m on your side, Juliet. Not his. Not now, not ever. And you’re not a brat.”

  “You’re too nice to me sometimes,” she says, but her voice is soft. She looks up at me. “It makes me feel like I can get away with anything.”

  “It’s because you can. You could hate Star Wars and I’d still forgive you. I can’t think of one situation where I wouldn’t take your side.”

  “Now that’s not true. You don’t like me spending time with Dyl. I can see it in your eyes. It’s like you’re jealous.”

  She picked that up? Crap, that means I need to be more careful. I’m lucky because being jealous of Dyl fits the persona I’ve created, so it’s not going to make her doubt my character. But it’s dangerously close to my real feelings. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that my real feelings only hurt me.

  “I’m not jealous of him. I’m intimidated, I think. He’s a scary dude. Do you remember when he beat up those guys? I don’t like the idea of you spending time with someone that violent.”

  “He’s not scary, he’s different. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I’m usually pretty great at reading people, but with him I come up with nothing. I mean, he beat up those guys, sure, but do you remember that book of poetry he was reading? I asked him about it, and he let me borrow his copy. It’s really tattered, and a few of the lines are highlighted. Thugs don’t read poetry, Caden. Plus, he only beat up those guys to save us, remember? He told me he hates hurting people, but he’s willing to do it when it’s necessary.”

  “That’s bull. You missed it, but I saw him when he was fighting. He was grinning like a loon. He was loving it.”

  “Oh. That’s a bit weird.”

  Critical hit!

  “Anyway,” she says. “You aren’t jealous of him, exactly. I think you’re jealous we’re spending time together.”

  If I’m going to ask her out tonight, I need to start being bold. “I am jealous of that. And I’m not ashamed of feeling that way.”

  “Oh.” She smiles. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt. But this is a party, and I don’t want to talk about Dyl right now. Come on, it’s time to get into our costumes!”

  I get dressed in a simple guest bedroom. It’s a cream-colored room with a single bed and one tall stand-alone mirror pressed into the corner. With the skintight spandex on, but with the mask off, I make my way over to the mirror. I ruffle my hair, making it look messy, and practice my quizzical expression. I look pretty good. Not as good as Dyl probably will, but the costume makes my muscles look bigger than they actually are, and the blue of the suit makes my eyes pop.

  Kaylee, mask on or off?

  Off for now. Put it on when you get to the party. It’ll put some distance between the boy she knows and the seriously hot man you are now. She’ll check out your pecs and then be lik
e, damn … Wait, that’s Caden?

  I swing open the door. Outside, walking right past, is Juliet. She’s wearing a royal-blue dress with frilly white lace on the chest. I do a double take. Is that really her? Now that she’s wearing a white wig and blue contacts, she somehow looks more grown up. Her eyes move down from my face to my chest. I breathe in and tense, making my pecs and abs go rigid. Her stare stops at my belly button. I wish I had a link with her like I have with Kaylee. I’d give anything to hear what she thinks when she looks at me.

  “Spider-Man,” she says. “Oh my God, I love it!” She steps forward and pinches the material on my chest. She also pinches some skin and I wince. I bend over, placing my hand on my stinging flesh. It hurts, sure, but I play it up because wounded guys are hot. “Oh, sorry, wow, this thing is skintight, huh? It’s so good, so detailed. Where did you get it?”

  I chew my bottom lip. Because I have no freaking clue where Kaylee got this costume. “Online.”

  “Yeah, but where online?”

  Kaylee?

  Just say Amazon.

  “Amazon. But enough about me. You’re Alice, right? From Wonderland. Is she good or evil?”

  Pretend she has an eyelash on her cheek.

  But she doesn’t.

  That’s why I said to pretend.

  I lean forward and gently pluck an imaginary hair from her cheek.

  “Eyelash,” I say, and I blow on my fingers, releasing the nonexistent eyelash.

  She’s blushing and looking at the floor, so I guess Kaylee’s play was a success. “Thanks, Caden. What was I talking about? Oh, right, if Alice is good or evil. I think she’s clearly a hero, but she’s not very good, seeing as she’s sort of bonkers. Although I was sort of hoping to avoid a night of people asking me that question.”

  Call her pretty.

  “No, it was just me being dumb. She’s obviously good. And you look great, Juliet. The wig and the contacts, they make you look … different.”

  “That’s the point of a costume, Caden.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Her smile drops. “I do. Or at least I think I do. You’re a lot easier to read than Dyl is, but you’re still a bit of a mystery to me, Caden Walker. Now let’s go see what horrendous couples costume Nat and Trev have come up with. We may need a bucket. For, you know, when we barf.”

  In the living room, Trev and Natalie are holding hands. He’s wearing an orange-and-blue basketball jersey under a brown leather jacket. Natalie is wearing a white V-neck and blue jeans. A plastic tube is hooked into her nostrils.

  “No,” says Juliet.

  “Okay?” asks Natalie.

  “Okay,” answers Trevor.

  Juliet and I glance at each other.

  “Barf,” we say at the same time.

  “You don’t like it?” says Natalie. “Seriously?”

  Juliet grabs her by the forearms. “Don’t be silly, I love it. It’s sickeningly cute. But how do Hazel and Gus fit the theme?”

  “People don’t have to save the world to be good,” says Trevor. “John Green gets that, and I do too. All you have to be is honest and kind, and then you’re good.”

  His words ring in my mind. Because, by his criteria, I’m a bad person.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

  The party is in the school’s gym, which is a fact they’ve tried to cover up with streamers, posters, and flashing neon lights. But the reality of the location is obvious in both the squeaky sound the floor makes every single time someone takes a step, and in the smell, like stale sweat, that hangs over everything. Why not just have fun? I ask myself. One night. One good time. It’s the perfect chance to ignore everything ahead and just go wild.

  I wish I could be that guy. I really do. But this party is a big event, and I need to be on my game, making myself as Nice as possible. One mistake could be the end of me, so I have to be perfect.

  Juliet is beside me, swaying along to the music. Her pink, glossy lips are pressed together. I could kiss her tonight. It would be a good thing if I did, because if Kaylee’s right, which she usually is, one of us will kiss her tonight. And it should be me. It’s not that I want to kiss her, because I don’t; it’s just strategy. But the idea of Dyl kissing her makes me clench my hands into fists. I’ll kiss her just to stop that from ever happening.

  A pop song starts to play and Natalie grabs Trevor by the arms and pulls him into the crowd. Juliet’s eyes focus in on someone. I follow the direction of her gaze and see a figure at the back of the gym leaning against the wall, his figure cast in darkness by the shadow of the bleachers.

  Dyl.

  Game on, Bad boy.

  He peels himself off the wall and cuts a path through the crowd toward us. He’s dressed exactly how he said he would be, only he was wrong when he said he’d look foolish. So wrong. He looks freaking incredible. He’s shirtless, and his crunches have obviously paid off, as his stomach is taut and defined, and each little bump of muscle is clearly pronounced. Over his shoulders are two brown leather straps, and attached to them is a pair of crimson bat’s wings. Horns of the same color protrude from the top of his head.

  He smiles.

  Next to him, I feel like a child. I’m a kid dressed up like a superhero. And he’s a full-grown man. It radiates from him, in the tilt of his chin, the uneven manner in which he walks, in his borderline obnoxious I-fuck-people-and-I’ll-fuck-you smile.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “You’re missing some of your costume,” says Juliet. But her throat keeps bobbing up and down. She likes him.

  “No one seems to be complaining,” he says with a wave of his hand. He nods at a group of girls at the front of the crowd. They break out in a fit of giggles and flock closer together, their arms and chests touching as they whisper to one another. Their eyes keep flitting in Dyl’s direction. I want to tell them to back off, because they aren’t a part of this story and they never will be. “It’s my duty,” he continues. “People who look like me owe it to everyone to show off our bodies.” He flexes his biceps. The girls squeal. Who are they? Were they hired by the LIC?

  I turn back. He’s still flexing. Holy frigging frig, his biceps are huge. My mouth goes dry.

  “Well, I’m not impressed,” says Juliet.

  “Don’t lie, Juliet. It’s unattractive.” He steps closer to her. “You want to touch me, don’t you? To run your fingers along my body, to feel my lips on yours. It’s okay, Juliet. I want you to feel me too. I want you to do whatever you want to me.” He steps away. “Just ask, Juliet, and I’ll do it, no exceptions. All you have to do is ask, and I’m yours.”

  I blink my watery eyes and gulp down a swallow. Dyl winks at Juliet, then heads toward the group of girls. Juliet watches him as he walks past. Her eyes trace down his spine; then she smacks her lips.

  “Do you want a drink?” I ask.

  She looks up from the floor and brushes a strand of hair away from her face. “Umm, yeah. That would be lovely, Caden. Thanks.”

  I duck away from her and head toward the main table. It’s covered in a red plastic sheet and is loaded with snack foods. Stupid Dyl. His offer was hot, sure, and it would take a strong person to turn down that offer from someone as attractive as him, but Juliet is a strong person. She’ll say no. At least, I hope she will.

  A thin boy with square glasses and blond hair sees me as I approach and smiles at me. He’s wearing a purple vest and tie over a white dress shirt, and he’s holding a microphone in his hands. His shirt sleeves have been rolled up, revealing a sleeve of tattoos on his forearms.

  “Hi,” he says as I grab two plastic cups.

  I grip the cups, making the thin plastic crinkle. “Hey … Sorry, do I know you?”

  I scoop the ladle into the punch bowl, filling the metal spoon with purple liquid and a couple of floating blueberries. It smells like melted sugar.

  “Not yet,” he says. “But that’s the whole point of things like this, isn’t it? To get to know people?”
<
br />   “I guess.”

  “And I’ve seen you around school and you seem like—”

  I peer closer. Wait, is he blushing? He is: his cheeks are burning red even through the darkness. He chews his chapped bottom lip and looks me in the eye. “—someone I would like to spend some time with, if you, um, catch my drift.”

  “I’ve gotta go,” I say, looking down at my two cups, which are now full. “See ya around, maybe?”

  He grins. “Yeah, totally!”

  I spin away and walk toward Juliet. What was that about?

  She’s bobbing her head along to the beat, and the pink light reflects in her glassy eyes. I hand her a cup. She grabs it and takes a sip. “Who was that?”

  “Huh?”

  “That guy who was talking to you. It looked like he was asking you out.”

  My eyebrows furrow. “Did he?”

  “Well, what did he say to you?”

  “He thought I seemed cool and he wanted to spend some time with me … if I ‘caught his drift.’ Huh, he was asking me out, wasn’t he? Wow, I didn’t even notice.”

  She scoffs. “Boys can be so thick sometimes. Yes, Caden, he was asking you out. Are you going to say yes?”

  I freeze. “No.”

  “Why not?” she asks. “Caden, it’s not a big deal if you’re gay. You know that, right?”

  “This isn’t Tumblr, Juliet, straight men do exist here. I like girls.”

  She laughs, and the tense moment passes. Whew.

  “Sorry,” she says. “I know it’s a horrendous cliché, but you’re so well put together, and so handsome, and it’s not like it would matter to me if you were, but I’ll admit I was curious about your sexuality. Because sometimes I can’t tell if you’re flirting with me or if we’re just really good friends.”

  Ask her out now.

  What?

  Right now. Tell her it would matter to you because then it means you wouldn’t like her. Which you do.

  “We are good friends,” I say. “But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t flirting with you.”

  I don’t think my heart has ever beat so fast. If I screw this up, I’m a dead man. Also, Kaylee was listening in. Now she knows what I honestly think, and that’s absolutely terrifying. It could become an issue for me down the road, but I can’t stress about it now. I need to focus on Juliet.