“That’s a shame. The coffee is great there, everyone knows it, but it’s a small town and there aren’t many people here who want to spend five dollars on coffee no matter how nice it is. We’re instant-coffee types here, if you hadn’t realized.”
“That’s kind of sweet, actually.”
“Sweet in the boy kind of way or in the girl kind of way? Like, is it awesome or is it cute?”
“Both.”
She laughs, tilting her head back. The waitress returns.
“Ready to order?” she asks, placing a water carafe and two glasses on the table.
“Pesto chicken fettuccini,” I say.
“Me too,” says Juliet. “But it was my idea, not his. Just so you know.”
The waitress ignores her and quickly grabs our menus. “Great choices! That’ll be out in a sec.”
Juliet breathes in contentedly, and her eyelids dip slightly. “All right, question two. What’s your favorite food? I know that seems like a random question, but we just ordered mine, and I’m curious about yours.”
I think it over, then decide to be honest.
“Blueberries,” I say.
She leans forward. “Like, just blueberries?”
I blush. “Yeah.”
I’ll never be able to explain this to her, but there’s a reason blueberries are my favorite. They’re the closest thing to candy that was allowed at the LIC, so I always ate as many of them as I could whenever they were available. Even now, they’re my go-to whenever I feel like something sweet.
“I think they’re delicious,” I say. “And they’re good for you, so I don’t feel bad eating them. It’s a win-win.”
She narrows her eyes. “Huh. Well, now I know more about you, Caden, so this evening has already been a success. Now we should talk about the weather or something, right? I’m pretty sure that’s what normal people do on dates.”
“Why would I want to be normal? Normal is boring. I want to know about your inventions.”
She shuffles forward in her seat. “Really? Most people’s eyes glaze over when I start talking about anything even remotely related to science. I’ve learned to avoid it as a conversation topic.”
“I’m genuinely interested, Juliet.”
“Well, if you want to know, I’m guessing you want to hear about stuff like the Bolt Gloves, right? Stuff that can blow things up or hurt people.”
“You know me too well!”
“You’re such a boy. So, well, I’m working on this suit that’s inspired by Black Widow. You know, from the Avengers? She can do all these spinning kicks and stuff because she’s got full range of movement, right? Well, I started thinking about how awesome it would be if it was real. Like, to have a suit that would let someone move as much as her, yet made sure they were fully protected from bullets. So I’ve been working on that a lot, and it’s almost done. Natalie’s been helping me with it, actually, as a body model. But she still won’t let me shoot her when she’s wearing it for some reason. I guess she doesn’t trust me.”
“That sounds so cool! But if you’re going to make a suit based on one of the Avengers, you really should go with Iron Man.”
She chuckles. “My family does okay, but we’re not billionaires. Oh, and there’s this other thing I’m working on that’s pretty cool. I know you’re going to judge me for this name, but I’m a scientist, not an advertiser. Anyway, I call them Black Hole Bombs. It works like a grenade, only the explosion can be perfectly timed and contained. I’m trying to make it nonlethal, but at the moment it’s so strong it can vaporize pretty much anything instantly. The explosion they make looks sorta like a black hole, hence the name. I’ll have to take you out into a paddock one day and show them off. They’re pretty cool.”
“That sounds awesome.”
We chat about our favorite movies until the waitress returns holding two steaming plates. She places the first down in front of me. It’s a sliced chicken breast with crispy golden skin over a pile of green sauce and a bed of fresh, glistening fettuccini. I grab my fork and stab it into the chicken. I cut off a small piece and then bite down. The chicken is tender and moist, and the sauce is creamy, salty, and slightly nutty.
“Oh God,” I say. “This is the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
Her mouth is also full. She swallows. “Right? You’re welcome. You’re also welcome that I didn’t make a sexual joke just then. But that’s the only time tonight I’m going to let you off that easy. Set me up like that again, Caden, and I’m going to have to go for a punch line. And trust me, it’s going to be glorious.”
We eat in silence, but it’s not awkward; it’s very clear it’s because the meal is delicious. Once I’m halfway through my dish I look up at her. She’s cutting into a piece of chicken.
“Hey, I’ve got a question for you.”
She swallows and wipes her mouth, even though there was no food on it. “Shoot.”
“Why do you like me?”
I recall how I felt when I asked Dyl the same question. That time, the whole world seemed to fade away as I waited for his response. Right now all I can think about is the fact that her answer will never mean as much to me as Dyl’s did. He’s already answered that question correctly, so she doesn’t stand a chance.
Her right eyebrow arches. “That’s a loaded question for a first date, isn’t it?”
“Sorry. You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s cool. I guess it’s a lot of things. I know this sounds superficial, but there’s something about your face that I like. Maybe it’s your eyes, because they remind me of the ocean, or maybe it’s how you always look at everyone in such a friendly way, like you care about them even if you know nothing about them. I like how the way you look at me is different from the way you look at everyone else, because it makes me feel special. And I like your hair, especially how it’s always kinda messy but looks good, and I’d be lying if I didn’t mention your body, because it’s freaking ridiculous. But the thing I like the most about you is how you make me feel. You make me happy every time I see you. Even when you’re not around, I think of you and I smile. Is that enough for you?”
It would be, if Dyl didn’t exist.
“It definitely is.”
“Great. Now let’s finish eating. It’s not as good when it gets cold.”
We finish our meals. Despite her objections, I pay, and then she drives me to my place. She parks in front of my house, then we walk to my porch. Once we’re there, she stands facing me, swaying slightly, her hands clasped in front of her.
“That was so much fun,” I say. “We have to do it again.”
“Definitely.”
I’m watching her body language. She leans forward and shifts her feet so they point at me, which is good, but her hands are still clasped together. At the LIC I was taught what both of these separate actions mean, but they never told me what both of them together is signaling.
It’s too risky to go in for a full-on kiss, so I step forward and kiss her on the cheek.
“Really, Juliet,” I say. “I want to do that with you for the rest of my life.”
“Whoa, slow down. It was a first date. We aren’t getting married or anything.”
“You’re right. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”
“That you will.”
She turns and walks away.
“Oh, and Caden,” she calls as I reach the front door. I turn and look over my shoulder. “Next time, give me a proper kiss.”
She opens the door to her car and climbs in. Smiling, I step inside the house. It’s dark, the only light coming from the TV. M is asleep in front of it. D’s snores are soft down here, but the fact that I can hear them even this far away means they’ll be booming upstairs. I close the door and lean against it, the events of the date replaying in my mind. The way she smiled. The taste of the food. Her weird yet still funny jokes. The softness of her cheek when I kissed her.
How’d I do, Kaylee?
/>
She likes you a lot. It’s almost over, Caden. You did really well.
Suddenly Dyl is all I can think about. His laugh. His eyes. Him, in his entirety.
Kaylee said I did well.
So why does it feel like I failed?
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
As soon as I step off the bus, I see Natalie and Trevor waiting for me by the school gate. I wave and make my way over to them. It’s a warm, windy day, and orange leaves are tumbling across the parking lot. I didn’t sleep much the past two nights, so my head is fuzzy and my body feels lifeless. Unfortunately, my exhaustion doesn’t mean anything to the LIC, so I need to think of a way to wake myself up before I answer a question incorrectly or do something out of character. Being Nice is always difficult, but it’s almost impossible when everything is annoying and all I want to do is sleep.
As soon as I’m within earshot they lean forward.
“So,” says Trevor. “We need details.”
“We do!” chimes Natalie. “Start from the beginning. What were you wearing? I was expecting a Snapchat but Juliet never sent me one. Quick, Juliet will be here any minute and I need the details from you before she tells me what really happened.”
“Okay, um, I was wearing a suit. White shirt, black pants. Leather shoes.”
Natalie grins. “Very traditional. I like it.”
“Is that specific enough for this postmortem?”
Trevor looks like I hit him. “Mortem? God, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“No! It’s an expression. The date was nice. We talked for a while and ate delicious food and then I paid and that was it. I think she likes me. My only worry is that I came on a little too strong.”
Natalie closes her eyes and then slowly opens them. Her eyelashes are long and full, yet they don’t have the obvious tar-like consistency of mascara. Her eyes also aren’t brown—well, technically they are, but they’re brighter than most, almost the color of almonds. She really is unnaturally pretty.
She clicks her fingers at me. “Why are you looking at me like that, Caden?”
“Sorry, I was lost in thought.”
“Well, don’t go falling for me. Not only because Trevor would murder you if you even thought about touching me, but because I think Juliet seriously likes you. Wait, here she comes now, I guess we’re outta time.” She points, and I see Juliet pulling up in her gold Mazda. “Oh, and don’t forget, it’s nationals tonight. Do you still want to come? Trevor would never admit it, but he thinks you’re a good luck charm. It’d mean a lot to him if you came.”
Trevor grins. “I’ll happily admit that! You’re my friend, Caden, and it would be awesome if you came. Also, if watching a stunningly handsome swimmer break a world record isn’t a draw for you, Juliet will be there. So it could be your second date!”
“Sounds great!” I say.
Juliet closes her car door and starts jogging over to us.
And I see the truck. It’s an orange pickup, sort of like mine, and it’s cutting right through the lot, heading right toward her. And it’s not slowing down. The driver is some kid who is screaming and he isn’t even holding the steering wheel—he’s slapping it like that’ll do something. Oh God, it’s going so fast, it’s going to hit her!
I go to cry her name and someone hits my shoulder and I spin, then fall to my knees. On the ground, I look up just in time to see Dyl take a running dive at Juliet. He grabs her and tucks her against his body. The two fly out of the way just as the pickup speeds past. It bounces over the sidewalk, then hits the school fence hard enough to bend the metal.
Holy fucking shit, did that just happen?
Natalie’s hands are clasped to her mouth, and Trevor is slack-jawed.
“What the fuck,” says Trevor. “What the actual fuck.”
The pickup driver clambers out to be greeted by a bunch of students who flocked over because of the noise. He’s crying, and he has some blood on his face, but he’s definitely up and moving, which is the important thing.
Dyl and Juliet are on the ground, with Juliet lying on his chest. They’re looking into each other’s eyes. He raises his hand and brushes a strand of hair out of her face.
Oh.
That’s what just happened. It was a set piece.
I make my way over to them, but when I reach them they don’t even react. Dyl brushes a tear off Juliet’s cheek with his thumb and asks her, “Are you okay?”
She nods, then pushes herself up off his chest and stands on shaking legs. “Yep. Yeah. I’m super.”
He rises quickly, then offers his hand to her. “Come with me. I’ve wanted to show you something for a while, and now’s the perfect time. It’ll help, trust me.”
She nods slowly and takes his hand.
* * *
Juliet and I are leaning against the fence that surrounds the school, waiting for our lift to nationals. Trev’s dad, who is also his coach, has organized a limo to take us all to the stadium.
I’m glad school is over, because after the crash, classes were canceled so that everyone at the scene could get counseling. My counselor kept trying to get me to calm down, telling me that accidents are a part of life, and that I should be so grateful no one was seriously hurt. She’s clearly good at her job, but her attempts to help me process what happened didn’t work at all because I know no one was ever in danger. Well, except maybe me, because Dyl’s play was such a big success. I couldn’t even think about explaining that to her, though.
On top of that, I can’t stop thinking about Dyl and Juliet talking in private after the set piece. I’ve been trying to keep my mouth shut, but it’s only a matter of time before I crack and ask Juliet about it. It’s an itch I have to scratch.
I shouldn’t ask.
But I really want to.
I crack. “Where did you go?”
Juliet turns to me. “Huh?”
I cross my arms. “With Dyl, after, you know. Where’d you go with him?”
Caden, calm down; that’s none of your business and you’re coming across like you’re jealous.
Juliet sighs. “Nowhere, honestly. It was nothing, Caden. I was, well, I was so grateful to him for saving me, I went along with it. I mean, you saw him—he was like a freaking superhero. Once the adrenaline wore off I realized how weird it must’ve looked. And I’m sorry about that. But how do you turn down an offer from the person who just saved your life?”
But he didn’t save you. All he did was lie.
“It’s no problem, Juliet, it was a scary situation and you dealt with it really well. I have no idea how I’d deal if that happened to me.”
“Caden, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to stop talking about it now. Honestly, I’m weirdly fine about it. Sure, it was scary, but it’s also not that big a deal, and I don’t want to let it ruin tonight. Is that okay?”
Is it okay? Not really. I want to pick at this thread to expose Dyl for the liar that he is. It’s way too risky, though, as by exposing him I could reveal myself. Then we’d both be killed, and all my stress would’ve been for nothing.
I mimic zipping my mouth shut as a white limo pulls up to the curb and parks right in front of us. The tires crunch the gravel. Natalie clambers out in sky-high silver heels and a tight sparkly dress. Her hair and makeup are perfectly done. Juliet and I are both still wearing our school uniforms.
“Oh crap, was this supposed to be formal?” asks Juliet.
“Hello!” says Natalie. “It’s only the moment that could shape the rest of Trevor’s life! But there’s obviously no helping you two, and I’m too stressed to care about you being underdressed.” She closes her eyes and breathes in through her nostrils like she’s meditating. “Okay. You’re about to enter a no-negativity space, all right? I’m a mess, and Trev’s pretty nervous as it is, so please be nice to him. Make him doubt himself and I’ll throw you out of the limo.”
The limo window slides down, revealing Trevor. His hair has been buzzed super short, so much so th
at I can see pale scalp beneath his dark hair. He leans forward and pokes his head out of the window. “Hey babe, you know I can hear you, right? And you don’t need to threaten them, I’m fine. My headspace is golden.”
Natalie sulks back to the limo with her shoulders sagging. Juliet and I follow her. Inside, it looks a lot like the limo that first took me away from the LIC. Leather seats, strips of blue light on the ceiling. Trevor sits wedged between Natalie and a man who looks exactly the way Trevor will in twenty years. They have the same friendly twinkle in their deep-set brown eyes and the same broad shoulders.
“Hey,” says the man who looks like Trevor. “I’m Donnie, Trev’s dad.”
He offers his hand. I notice that his muscular body is covered in an obviously homemade green shirt with the words TEAM TREV written across the chest.
“Caden,” I say as we shake.
He turns away, signaling the end of the conversation. I turn to Trevor, who is staring at me.
“Hey,” I say.
He drums his hands on his calves and exhales. His hands are shaking. “Hi, Caden.”
I have a strange realization: I want him to do well. We only met because I’m fake, but my friendship with him is real. I care about him and I genuinely want him to achieve his goal.
“Good luck today, man.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay,” calls Natalie. “No more talking. I’m too worried someone will say something that’ll make him nervous. So let’s listen to music.”
She presses a button on her iPhone and an upbeat electronic song starts to play. I recognize the tune, but can’t for the life of me figure out who the artist is.
The stadium is just over two hours away, and the drive ticks by slowly. I spend it staring out the window, thinking about Dyl. No one is allowed to talk, so the only real distraction is Natalie’s playlist, which, thankfully, is pretty great.
Once we reach the stadium, the five of us climb out. People bustle around us, moving in both directions up and down the street, ignoring us. The stadium is illuminated by massive columns of white light from spotlights anchored to the floor. We walk up to the front counter, where a short man is trapped inside a smudged box made of thick clear plastic. His expression, which looks alarmingly like the disappointed emoji personified, doesn’t change when we reach him.
The Love Interest Page 18