NINE
It’s a free period, so I should be studying, but I’m not. I’m staring at the door. At any moment, Dyl will make his move to pull Juliet away from me. She’s sitting to my left with her head down, staring at a textbook. Everyone around her is chatting, yet she’s actually reading. My lips curl up into a small smile. Any moment now. The smile fades. My entire body is shaking and my knees are bouncing up and down. I grip my thighs, bunching up the silky material of my slacks.
What’s he going to do?
Juliet starts writing something in her notebook. With her head turned to one side, her hair falls on the other side of her face in a straight brown line. She looks pretty, sure, but looking at her doesn’t stir anything in me. It’s an observation, cold and clinical. Why isn’t anything stirring in me? What’s wrong with me?
She looks up at me. “What’s going on?” she whispers. “You look freaked.”
I muster up a grin and glance down at my history textbook. On it is a photo of some old white guy who is apparently super important. According to the book he fought for people’s rights. Just not mine, apparently. I place my hand over the caption and try as hard as I can to recall his name.
I push the book away. “I’m realizing how much I’m screwed. I have no idea who half these people are.”
“I know it seems scary, but it’s not so bad if you break it apart and tackle each area on its own. I actually kind of love it. If you want, you could come over after school and I could bring you up to speed? I told Mom and Dad you showed up at school yesterday, and they’d love to have you over for dinner. That’s only if you want to, obviously, and I know you’re really smart because you’re on a scholarship and I didn’t mean to imply that—”
“Juliet,” I say with a grin. “I’m really flattered, and I could use the help. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m sure you’re swamped with your own stuff.”
“I want to. Seriously, it would be my pleasure. And besides, I wasn’t asking. Mom is expecting you to come over tonight. So, can you make it?”
“No, I can’t. My calendar is absolutely full.”
Her face falls. “Oh. Right. Cool. Maybe another time.”
I laugh. “Juliet, I’m joking! I wouldn’t care if Beyoncé herself wanted to hang with me. I wouldn’t miss dinner with you and your family for anything.”
“Now I know you’re lying. Anyone would pick Beyoncé over a boring dinner with me and my family.”
“I wouldn’t.”
She smiles.
You’re lucky we made you hot, Caden. If she wasn’t attracted to you she would’ve barfed.
Get lost, Kaylee!
Ugh, fine.
She’s looking down at her feet. “So, dinner at my place tonight. At seven?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. Because Dad’s already organized everything. He’s making roast chicken. Wait, you’re not vegetarian or vegan or anything like that now, are you? It’s cool if you are, obviously. Maybe I should’ve talked to you before we planned everything.”
“It sounds perfect.”
“Great.”
“Great.”
At lunch, I sit between Juliet and the could-be model from yesterday, Natalie. I take a bite of my plain cheese sandwich. My parents hadn’t wrapped the cheese properly, so now it’s hard, cracked, and the color of mustard. But it was the only thing in the fridge, aside from a huge selection of beers. When I saw them I wondered what Dyl would think, and that made me smile. Together, we can try them all. Juliet turns to me. “You still look nervous, Caden. Is there a problem?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Everything’s cool.”
“You don’t need to lie to me. We’re old friends, remember?”
All I do is lie to you.
I imagine telling her the truth. Sitting her down and telling her what I am, who I work for, and the real reason I look the way I do. How would she deal with the revelation that I’m not the sweet, kind guy she thinks I am? Her face, warped by rage and sadness, fills my mind. Nothing could be worse than Juliet looking at me like that.
Then I think of the Stalker, sleek and black and impossibly strong, holding a detached head in its hands.
My head.
My eyes are closed, but my mouth is open. My tongue is sticking out, pink and flaccid. The skin of my cheeks is pale.
A torrent of blood gushes from the jagged stump of my neck. It falls onto my limp, crumpled body. The blood has drenched my clothes, making my white shirt cling to my muscles, showing the definition of my pecs and my abs.
That’s why I lie. It isn’t my choice. It’s what I have to do.
“You’re my best friend,” I say. “I’d never lie to you. I’m tired. That’s all.”
“Good. Because you’d tell me if something was bothering you, right? Even if it’s the smallest thing, you could tell me, like when we were kids.”
“Right.”
*
The day passes and Dyl still hasn’t shown up. After the final bell, Juliet stops me before I get on the bus.
“So tonight, at seven. Ignore what I said about studying—it was an excuse to get you to come over. But this is me, being brave and saying that I want you to come over. After you’ve already said yes. Anyway, do you have a car?”
“I do.”
“Well, do you want to drive or should I swing by your place and pick you up?”
“The thing is, I only got my license a few weeks ago and I’m not confident driving on my own yet. I know that sounds pathetic but … I’ll catch the bus. It’ll be fine.”
“No way, Caden. I just had an idea. Why don’t I meet you at your place and then we can walk together? It can’t be far. Plus, this way, I can show you how much the town has changed while you’ve been gone! It’ll be great, it’s so pretty at night. So are you in?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Great, see you tonight.”
*
I stare at my closet.
What should I wear?
Kaylee huffs. Didn’t you get my e-mail? You need to check those. Wear slacks, the black shoes that aren’t school shoes, and the white long-sleeved shirt with the white buttons. You know, the nice one. Leave the top two buttons unbuttoned, show her a little bit of man-cleavage. Is your chest still hairless?
I peek down my shirt. The skin there is smooth.
Sure is.
Good. Then maybe undo the third button accidentally or something.
You think she’ll like me if she thinks I can’t dress myself?
I think she’ll think you’re hot, and honey, that never hurts. But fair point.
I get dressed in the outfit she told me to wear. I undo only the top button.
Make your hair neater. Actually, I’ve changed my mind about the buttons, do them all up. You’re about to meet her parents, so you need to look extra presentable. Still sexy, though, like a hot businessman. Also, no pressure, but you need to make sure they like you, otherwise this whole thing is over. Juliet isn’t going to side with a Nice who her parents don’t like.
I grab a comb and run it through my hair, parting it to one side, ensuring it’s pressed down over my scalp.