The Love Interest

by Cale Dietrich

  “That was the furthest thing from Bad I’ve ever seen,” I say. “It was, dare I say it, adorable.”

  He shoots me a back-the-eff-off look. So I drop it.

  “Let’s go on the Ferris wheel,” he says, pointing at the structure that towers above everything. It’s large and white, and candy-colored lights have been attached to each carriage.

  I tilt my head up. It’s really high. What if one of the carriages snaps? We’d die. Is a silly ride worth it?

  Dyl is staring at it with wide eyes.

  I gulp, and wipe my sweaty palms on my thighs. “I don’t like heights, but it’s your call, man.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  The line takes about twenty minutes; we stand slightly apart just in case someone from school sees us. I already have a lie planned if we run into someone: I’m here with a group, but none of them wanted to go on the Ferris wheel so I’m going alone. Being next to Dyl is a total coincidence, I didn’t even recognize him. It’s not my best lie, but it’s unlikely I’ll have to use it. I already texted Juliet to see where she is, and she’s at home studying. I also checked with Nat and Trev, and they’re both busy. Nat’s at an author signing in DC, Trev is training. Dyl has no other friends, so there’s no danger there, and I’m not sure anyone else knows us enough to know that this pairing is unusual. They might even think we’re just on a date and not care at all. I like the thought of that.

  I lean against the cold railing and watch Dyl as he watches the crowd. He looks at everyone, but his more intense focus seems to be drawn toward couples.

  We reach the front of the line and he faces me. “You know, the only way you can know in public if someone is a couple is if they hold hands. Like, we’re together, but no one thinks we’re a couple. But if we held hands, they would.”

  “I guess. What’s your point?”

  “Well, maybe it’s because I’ve never been close enough to someone to hold their hand, but it seems like people only do it to prove to others that they’re in a relationship. They’re like, Screw you, strangers, I found someone and you’re alone, and I want you to know that. You know?”

  “Maybe they like each other a lot? Maybe they just want to hold the hand of the person they love and they don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks.”

  He tilts his head to the side. “You really are a Nice, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Someone who wasn’t at least partially Nice wouldn’t have said that, Caden. They just wouldn’t have.”

  “Next!” calls a man in blue overalls. We pay at the booth, then walk toward the carriage. I climb in first and sit down on the wooden bench. Dyl sits down beside me, closer than he needs to. I guess it’d be pretty hard to explain this away as a coincidence, but oh well, it’s too late now. The small booth rocks forward, then swings back. I grip the railing tight, and my sweaty palms cool against the metal.

  Dyl laughs. “You look so scared, man. Have you ever been on one of these?”

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  Caden, what the hell are you doing? I left for a while and now I’m back and you’re doing this? Why? Don’t you know that this looks a hell of a lot like a date?

  So what if it is, Kaylee?

  Talk to me like that again and I’ll …

  He’s dying, and he wants to do this with me. Once he’s gone I promise I’ll be a perfect Love Interest. But right now, I need to be here for him.

  He could be trying to get pictures of you together or … It’s wrong, Caden. On so many levels. You shouldn’t be doing this with him.

  Well, I am, Kaylee. Sorry.

  I can’t be here for this. Just know that I think you’re being an idiot. A massive idiot.

  Dyl is staring at me. Like always, it settles me, deluding me into thinking everything is okay even though all the evidence points to the contrary. “Kaylee?”

  “Yep. She thinks I’m stupid for doing this with you.”

  “Do you feel stupid for doing it?”

  Our feet lift up off the ground.

  I shake my head.

  We lift higher into the air and I grip the railing tighter. The crowd shrinks, and then is replaced by the horizon. In the distance are the lights of the town, but there’s also an awful lot of navy sky.

  “It’s beautiful,” he says.

  The carriage steadies, and suddenly it isn’t so scary. I move one hand to rest on the seat between us. His eyes move down and focus on it, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. He seems nervous, like he’s unsure what to do now that we’re so close. I instantly know he isn’t going to make a move, but fuck that, we’re here, and I want this moment to be something more than it currently is. I guess that’s the problem with Dyl: what we have now isn’t enough for me. I all caps WANT MORE.

  “You know,” I say. My voice is shaking. “You and I, we’re pretty close. Maybe we’re not in love, but we’re close, right?”

  “Sure. What’s your point?”

  “If you want to hold hands with someone, I’ll hold your hand.”

  “So you’ll take that bullet?”

  “Gladly. Seriously, Dyl, you’ve shown me so many cool things, so if there’s anything I can do for you tonight, I’d like to do it. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to try it. So are you going to hold my hand or not?”

  He moves his hand across.

  And places it on top of mine.

  I flip my hand so our palms are touching. His skin is rough, yet his grip is soft. Our eyes meet as our fingers intertwine, and he smiles like I told a joke. And that makes me smile as well.

  I’ve kissed him.

  But this feels closer.

  The Ferris wheel keeps moving up and the moon gets bigger and bigger and the whole thing feels like it’s never going to stop rising.

  But I’m smarter than my feelings are.

  And I know the descent is coming.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  I’m staring at the mirror in my bedroom. I’m wearing a white shirt, black slacks, and dress shoes. I fiddle with the top button.

  How much man-cleavage should I show, Kaylee?

  None, obviously. Button it all the way up. And wear a tie. You need to be the best-dressed boy in the room.

  It was a joke.

  Well, it was very funny, Caden. Now hurry up, I want you to be early. It’s sweet, like you’re excited about this party.

  I do up the top button. Hey, I have a question. What happens to our relationship if Juliet chooses me?

  Well, we won’t talk as often, because they’ll remove your implant. You’ll still have my mobile number, though, and you’re always welcome to call me if you have a question. So I become a free, always accessible relationship counselor. It’s a pretty great service. Lots of people would benefit if they had someone like me in their life. They really would.

  Good to know. And hey, thanks for helping me through all this.

  It’s my job, Caden. I had no choice. But that’s sweet. Thank you.

  Once I’m dressed I leave my room and head toward my truck. When I reach it I open the door. Sitting on the passenger seat is a bouquet of pink tulips.

  For me? How sweet.

  Kaylee doesn’t respond, so I slam the door and turn on the engine. Then I drive to Juliet’s house.

  Juliet and Natalie are sitting on the front steps of Juliet’s house. Juliet is wearing a frilly white dress. It’s cute, and she looks great, but it’s nothing compared to her space dress. Natalie looks characteristically stunning in a skintight green number. I park in front of them and they both stand and walk to the car. Their heels click against the driveway.

  “You look beautiful,” I say, handing her the tulips. Juliet presses them to her face and inhales deeply.

  “Thank you, Caden. They’re lovely.”

  They climb into the backseat and clip on their seat belts.

  “Do you know the way?” asks Natalie.

  “Sure do.”

>   “Then let’s go.”

  I turn the steering wheel and pull onto the road.

  Juliet turns to me. Her face is covered with simple makeup, making her skin paler than usual, and her lips are glossy. “So you’re comfortable with driving now? Before you weren’t.”

  “Yeah, I am. Now that I’m doing it, it’s not so scary.”

  She looks out the window. “Yeah, and it’s freeing, right?”

  “More than anything in the world.”

  She closes her mouth and I grip the steering wheel. My palms are slick with sweat, which makes the plastic slippery. This kind, lovely girl is going to kill someone today. She’ll never know what she’s done, but that won’t stop it from being true. And, if I win, I’ll have to spend the rest of our life together knowing that her choice killed Dyl.

  “How are you doing, Natalie?” I ask, in a lame attempt to stop thinking about how much everything is going to change tonight.

  I flick my eyes up and look at her through the rearview mirror. Her arms are crossed and her shoulders are slouched. She moves her eyes up and meets my stare. “I’m doing about as well as you’d expect, Caden. But it doesn’t matter. Tonight, I’m going to win him back.”

  “She’s pretty certain,” chimes Juliet.

  “I’m certain because I know Trevor, and as much as he doesn’t think so right now, I know how he thinks. I know exactly why he’s doing what he’s doing.”

  “But aren’t you mad? That he did what he did?”

  “Honestly, I don’t care that he cheated. I know I’m supposed to, because it’s been bombarded into me by every single TV show ever, but I don’t want to listen to them. Like, I’m not going to dump him because a bunch of TV writers told me it’s the right thing to do. All that matters is that I still love him.”

  The GPS barks a command, and I pull into Dyl’s street. “I get where you’re coming from. If I loved someone I’d forgive them anything. That’s where the unconditional thing comes from, right? It’s not, like, unconditional unless they do something bad. It’s just unconditional.”

  “Right.”

  Juliet smiles. “Right. Plus, Nat, if he rejects you we can still get super drunk.”

  “Jules, I’m right with you. If my talk with Trev doesn’t go my way, I’m going to become a hot mess of supernova proportions.”

  I park the car, and take a deep breath in through my nostrils.

  Juliet rubs my arm. “Ready?”

  No freaking way, I want to say.

  I nod. “Yep.”

  Dyl’s house is a massive one-story building with white walls and lots of glass. Dark-green shrubs line the stone pathway that leads to the front door. Rows of cars are parked around the block, filling the street. Up ahead, a bunch of guys in suits are leaning against a silver convertible. They stare at us as we pass. Or, more accurately, they stare at Juliet and Natalie. One of them wolf-whistles, and both Natalie and Juliet shoot him scathing looks.

  Natalie’s arms are crossed. “Who knew Dyl had this many friends? He doesn’t seem to talk to anyone aside from you, Juliet.”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “There’s a lot about that boy I don’t get.”

  We walk up the steps to the front door. A black man in a suit is standing there, his huge frame blocking the entire doorway.

  “Names,” he says. His eyes are focused on a clipboard.

  Juliet steps forward. “Juliet Stringer.”

  His eyes move down the list, then he moves his hand up and scrapes his pen across the paper. Of course she’s on the list. He turns his body and Juliet slides past him.

  “Caden Walker,” I say.

  He scans the list. I’m not going to be on it. Why would I be? Why would Dyl make this easy for me?

  The guard raises his hand and swipes the pen across the paper again. “Move,” he growls.

  I rush past him and Juliet grabs my hand. She’s beaming. The hallway is long and white, illuminated by circular lights embedded in the ceiling. The floors are rich, varnished timber. An overloaded coat rack stands beside the door. So I’m in. But why would Dyl do that? Maybe he truly has given up on the contest.

  Or maybe he just wants to spend time with me.

  Juliet lets go of my hand. “Caden, we’re in! And this party … I thought it was going to be a kegger or something, but oh my God, this is ridiculous. I mean, he has a freaking bouncer. How can he afford this?”

  “Who knows? Let’s just have a good time!”

  “Good call.”

  Natalie joins us, and we walk through the hall toward the thumping music. We pass through a glass sliding door into a large lounge room. A dining table that’s full to the brim with trays of small, immaculately presented pieces of food sits in the middle of the room. There are tiny quiches, slices of smoked salmon, and bite-sized berry pies. People in formal clothes, neat black suits for the men, evening gowns for the women, are standing in small circles around the table, either chatting or nibbling at the hors d’oeuvres. My mouth waters.

  A middle-aged woman with hair the color of gold, like the metal, approaches us. She’s wearing a tight black dress that dips low, revealing her collarbone and her clearly surgically improved cleavage. A silver necklace hangs around her neck. Her posture is rigidly, almost uncomfortably upright, and her smile is wide but seems genuine.

  “Hello,” she says. “I’m Dylan’s aunt. He’s been living with me ever since, well, you know. And who are you?”

  She’s looking only at Juliet, who fidgets, her fingers bunching up her dress. “I’m Juliet.”

  “Oh my gosh, I knew it! From the look of you I knew it. Dyl talks about you all the time, you with your precious little science experiments. He’s so smitten, it’s honey sweet.”

  Juliet leans her head back. “He’s what?”

  “I’ve never seen him like anyone as much as he likes you.” She raises her hands to her mouth. “Oh my, he’s going to be so mad if he finds out I said that to you. I know he’s got his big tortured-soul persona going, but believe me, deep down he’s a big softie. Now, excuse me, I need to go before I say anything else that will embarrass him.”

  She strides away, heading straight toward another small group of kids. They gape at her as she reaches them. Juliet is staring at the floor, her expression alarmingly unreadable. Wait, was that scripted? Maybe Dyl is still fighting?

  Natalie is scanning the crowd. “Any signs of Trev?”

  “I can’t see him.” I turn to Juliet. “Do you want a drink?”

  Juliet nods, and I step forward and approach a waiter who is holding a silver tray filled with flutes of champagne. I grab two glasses and pass one to Natalie, then give the other to Juliet. I spin back around and grab another, mouthing thanks to the waiter as I lift the glass off the tray.

  “But there’s Dyl.”

  I lower my glass. He’s standing in the doorway, staring at us. He’s wearing a black blazer over a white dress shirt and a skinny black tie. His hair has been pushed up and over his forehead, so it stands as a wave. The partygoers around him all stop what they’re doing and gape at him, but he ignores them all, keeping his attention fixed on us. His mouth curves into a lopsided grin. I grin back at him, even though it’s out of character. I can’t help it.

  “You made it,” he calls. He approaches us, and now it’s my turn to look at the floor. Here we go, he’s going to ignore me again, I think. I notice his shiny shoes are pointing in my direction. I look up and see that he’s staring at me. His lips curl up into a small smile, like we have a secret, and he offers me his hand.

  “It’s Caden, right?”

  “Right.”

  We shake hands.

  “I’m glad you made it.” He lets go of me and kisses Natalie on the cheek. Then he faces Juliet.

  “Juliet, you look lovely.”

  “Hi, Dyl.”

  “Can we talk?”

  “Listen, Dyl—”

  “It’s fine,” I interrupt. Juliet raises an eyebrow at me as her tone rings in
my ears. That was the voice she used with me when she told me she couldn’t do the art project with me. So it’s the voice she uses when she’s about to let someone down. And if she lets Dyl down, it’s game over. He needs time to recover some ground. I don’t want him to overtake me, but I also don’t want this to be the end. Maybe if they talk, Juliet will reconsider her decision to decide tonight. “Hear him out.”

  Juliet uncrosses her arms. “Okay, fine. See you later.”

  They walk away, leaving Natalie and me alone. As soon as they mix into the crowd, Natalie slaps my chest. “Caden! What are you thinking? You just let that happen!”

  “Yeah but, like, it’ll show her I’m not threatened by him, which is good for me. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

  Her narrowed eyelids tell me she’s skeptical. “Okay, but be careful, all right? You haven’t won yet.”

  “Noted. Thanks, Nat.”

  I take a sip of my champagne, which tastes sweet and crisp, like a slightly underripe green apple. It’s okay, but it’s obviously not real champagne. Rather, it’s a nonalcoholic rip-off. It’s probably unfair to compare them, but it’s nowhere near as nice as beer is.

  Natalie and I walk onto the wooden deck. A DJ with blond-and-green dreadlocks has set herself up in the corner. Loud electronic music is pumping from the large black speakers beneath her table. A group of guys is standing beside her, trying to get her attention.

  The deck declines into a small stretch of sandstone before it drops off into an infinity pool. Two guys and two girls are already swimming. The girls are wearing frilly bras and underwear. They’re sitting on the shoulders of the guys, laughing like this is the best moment of their entire lives. The guys move toward each other, and then the girls grab each other and start wrestling.

  “Looks fun,” I say, pointing toward them.

  Natalie scowls. “Why don’t you join them?”

  I sip my drink. “I didn’t bring my trunks.”

  “What’s that about trunks? Are you talking about how good I look in mine?”

  A hand slaps down on my shoulder. I turn and see Trevor. His cheeks are covered in a couple of days’ worth of stubble, and his eyes are bloodshot. Somehow, his massive chest looks smaller, like he’s deflated.