Page 55 of The Love Interest
“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 stopthatfrom 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.
