Page 61 of The Love Interest
He wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “Judy spent the last hour screaming at me. Apparently my kiss wasn’t good enough, and Juliet agreed to go out with you. She thinks it’s over.” He sits down on my bed, which makes the mattress screech. “So I’m officially dead.”
I recall how I felt after I saw them kissing, and realize he’s probably feeling the same mix of anger, sadness, and self-loathing.
“It’s not over yet,” I say. “I’m not winning—you’ve still got just as good a shot as I do.” I’m not sure if that’s the truth, but it’s what he’ll want to hear, and I’m willing to lie to make him feel better.
“Don’t, Caden. Please, I don’t want you to lie to me tonight.”
“I’m not lying. It’s just a date, Dyl. And she said she enjoyed kissing you. Besides, I know what it’s like to kiss you. Trust me, she won’t forget about it in a hurry. So it isn’t over. You need to keep fighting.”
“Why should I? I won’t be able to live with myself if I let my only friend die, and the only other option is her choosing you and then I’m dead anyway. I can’t win and…”
“We’ve got time, Dyl. This world is our playground until she makes her choice. We can do whatever we want until then. It’s not done. Don’t give up. I… I won’t be able to handle it if you give up. You need to hold on.”
He gulps. “I’m not sure if I can, Caden.”
Silence fills the room.
I sit down beside him. “If you need anything,” I say, “just ask.”
He crosses his arms. “Well, there issomethingI want. Can I sleep here?”
“What?”
“Not on your bed, just on the floor. I don’t want to go back to my house. I hate it there, it’s so big and my fake aunt is so terrible. All I want to do is sleep here tonight. Please, Caden. I promise I won’t bother you.”
Is this fake? My gut tells me it’s real. What could he possibly hope to achieve by coming here like this? Being fragile and helpless is never a good strategy. That leaves only one option, one I desperately want to be true: he wants to spend time with me. I walk to my closet, open it, and pull out a pillow and a blanket.
“You can stay,” I say. “As long as you don’t try anything.”
He hugs the blanket and pillow. “Thanks.” He places the pillow on the floor. “For a lot of things.”
I jump up onto my bed and nestle down. “You’re welcome, I guess.”
He lies down on the floor. I realize that we’re both staring up at the same ceiling, the same one I’ve stared at countless times.
“I have a question for you,” I say, turning my head to the side to look at him. “Why do you like me?”
He faces me. “What?”
“Like, why do you even like spending time with me? You’re always coming to my window, but I don’t understand why. I just… I’m not a Nice, not really anyway, so I don’t see why you like spending time with me.”
He sits up and crosses his legs. “Are you serious?”
I bob my head up and down.
“God, Caden, you’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. It’s why I like you so much. Seriously, you’re my best friend. Not that that’s saying much—I didn’t have any real friends at the LIC—but I think that makes what we have even more important to me. Let me be clear on this: you’re my first real friendbecauseyou’re nicer to me than everyone else is. So what on earth makes you think you’re not a Nice?”
“I told you before, I want to win this game, even though I know what’ll happen to you if I win. I can’t be a Nice if I think like that. I just can’t be.”
“Caden, what will happen to me if you win is not your fault. Nor is wanting to win. That’s human nature. So you, my good friend, are officially a Nice. End of story. All right?”
“I guess.”
He lies back down. “Anyway, we should get to bed; it’s getting late. This is weird, but do you mind if I take my shirt off? I can’t sleep with it on.”
I gulp. “Oh yeah, that’s fine.”
“Sweet. Night, Caden.”
