Page 66 of The Love Interest
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 notbillionaires. 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’realsowelcome 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 themtogetheris signaling.
