“I’m trying to come up with a more effective device for personal defense. The idea is that you wear the glove, and to activate it all you have to do is press down on whoever is attacking you. Then, zap! It sends electricity through them, eliminating the threat. They work for the most part, but the amount of electricity they produce would still be fatal to all but the sturdiest people. So they don’t really work at all, because I don’t want to create anything that kills people. I’m aiming instead for seriously maimed. Like, imagine if I’d been wearing it tonight? I could’ve stopped the fight before it started.”
I point to the test tubes filled with glowing blue liquid.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, that’s not finished yet, but it’s supposed to be an alternative to sunscreen. My idea is that you apply this gel once a month and then you have complete protection from UV. Goodbye, sunburn. It doesn’t work yet, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.”
“That’s incredible, Juliet. This whole place is. When did you become such a genius?”
“I guess we both changed while we were apart. I got smart and you got hot.”
Her cheeks go red, then she points to the door. “But that’s enough for now, huh?”
But I’m barely listening.
Because my Chosen called me hot.
It’s still early, says Kaylee’s voice in my mind. But that sounded a lot like checkmate.
*
I’m in bed, watching the clock slowly tick by. It’s midnight.
After I got home, I cleaned my room, mainly because I was still processing my time with Juliet and it felt good to be doing something with my hands. Also, I was trying to figure out what to say to Dyl if he asked about it. Do I tell him she called me hot? At the moment I’m leaning toward not telling him, because even though we’re competing I don’t want to hurt him unnecessarily. I may not be Nice, but that doesn’t make me mean.
Now the floor is clear of clothes, my desk is dish-free, and everything has been wiped down. The room smells like the lemony cleaning chemicals I used, fresh and sharp. I’ve even left two bottles of beer that I swiped from the fridge on my desk. In case, well, Dyl decides to show up.
A knock sounds on my window. Yes! I slide out of bed, pull on a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, then walk over and open it. Dyl is there, in the darkness, grinning at me. He looks so different now that he isn’t Dylan, the heroic badass. He’s smiling and his eyes are wide and friendly, not narrowed like they were when I last saw him. I like this version of him so much more. He’s wearing a black shirt and dark jeans.
“You’re wearing black,” I say. “What a surprise.”
“Are you all right?” asks Dyl. He’s peering at my face. What’s that look in his eyes? Is it sympathy? I raise my hand and touch the bruise on my right cheek. Aside from that, there’s the cut on my eyebrow, but the pain feels like a headache; annoying, but not crippling. I’d actually forgotten about it.
“I’m fine,” I say as I step outside, passing him a beer as I make my way out. “It’s totally fine.”
“Good. I was worried. I told them not to attack you, but apparently you attacked them? What’s with that? They were supposed to try to mug Juliet, but when I got there it was a full-on brawl. I had to improvise.”
I bow my head slightly, nodding. “I figured out it was your big entrance. It made sense to try to derail it. Sorry.”
He laughs. “Don’t be sorry, I’m not mad at you. I just can’t believe you punched him in the face.” He grabs my hand and lifts it up. Just grabs it, like it’s no big deal, like it’s okay. He peers at scrape wounds on my knuckles. “That’s pretty badass, Caden.” I realize he’s literally holding my hand. I flinch away and rest my hand on my jittery thigh.
He looks at his own knuckles, which are bloodless. “I didn’t actually hit them. It was all rehearsed. And you wouldn’t believe how much Judy shouted at the guy who hit you. He was supposed to make you look weak compared to me, but he ended up wounding you, and everyone knows…”
“Wounded guys are hot,” I say, finishing his sentence. This lesson was drilled into us at the LIC, so it makes sense that Judy would be mad. In his anger, Dyl gave me an advantage and turned his big entrance into a positive for me. If I were his coach, I’d be livid.
“His name is Tom,” he continues. “He’s actually a pretty great guy. He seemed upset that he had to hit you. I’m sorry too, Caden. I really am.”
“What? Why? This is a fight, remember. A contest.”
“It is. But I don’t want to win this by hurting you. I just don’t.”
“You say that now, but when it comes down to it we’ll be scratching each other’s eyes out. It’s human nature.”
“Human nature sucks sometimes.”
He didn’t disagree.
He lies down. His black shirt pulls up a little, showing a sliver of his stomach. He has abs. I shouldn’t be surprised—all Love Interests have them—yet I find I’m kind of shocked by his body. What would Juliet think if she saw us side by side with our shirts off? Whose body would she prefer? I have a feeling it’d be his. I prefer his.
He clears his throat. “Man, you need to lie down and see the sky from this angle. It’s so cool.”
I lie down beside him. Our faces are separated by only three tiles, but we aren’t looking at each other. We’re looking up at the sky. It’s navy, pinpricked by tiny dots of silver light.
“It’s beautiful,” he says. “Did you ever dream of doing just this while you were at the LIC?” I shake my head, and he continues. “I did. All I wanted was to spend hours looking up at the stars. I seriously thought about it almost every night.
“We could do that now—if you want to, obviously, it’s not a big thing. But we literally could look at it for hours. We don’t have to, though, if you have other things to do or something.”
He tilts his head slightly and looks at me. His stare is a little too intense, so I look down and focus on his neck and his perfect stubble. After the bristle of his chin, there’s a long stretch of smooth skin that arcs down until it reaches the collar of his shirt.
I steel myself, then look up and meet his stare. “I’m in if you are.”
Because it’s the truth.
I’ve never been more in in my life.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
“Here’s our hero!”
Natalie grins as I approach the table. She’s sitting alone, but she’s holding her head high and her posture is perfect, so she looks perfectly comfortable in her solitude. I don’t have this ability. Whenever I sat alone at the LIC, I was sure that everyone was judging me. The fact that she can sit by herself and not give a crap what anyone thinks makes me respect the living daylights out of her.
I sit down beside her. On the table, a ham sandwich rests on a sheet of plastic wrap beside a metallic pink water bottle. Natalie is Juliet’s best friend, and as Kaylee has repeatedly told me, it’s vitally important that she give me the seal of approval. Luckily, Juliet chose well, as Natalie is kind and good-natured. Spending time with her is fun, so I’d do it even if my life didn’t depend on it.
“Getting beaten up is heroic now?” I say. “Wait, I’ll get Spider-Man on the phone; he probably needs to know this.”