“Do you like me?”
“I love you, Caden. I’m just not sure if it’s in the way you want me to.”
I grip the railing tight. “I want you to feel how you want to feel, Juliet.” I drum my fingers against the metal. “So, was he a good kisser? We’re friends, remember! I want to talk to you about this stuff.”
“It was actually my first kiss, so I don’t have anything to compare it to. But yep, it was hugely agreeable. He even tasted good, Caden.”
I snort. “What, pray tell, did he taste like?”
“I don’t even know—like boy, I guess?”
Caden, I’ve made you a dinner reservation at a fancy restaurant. Ask her out.
“Oh, Juliet, I decided where we should go on our date. I booked us a table at …”
Mario’s on the waterfront. Seven-thirty, tomorrow.
I repeat what Kaylee told me.
Juliet smiles super wide. “You still want to go out with me?”
“Of course.”
“Oh my God! I thought I’d screwed everything up. I freaking love that place! Seriously, they have this pesto chicken pasta that’s pretty much my favorite meal ever.” Her eyes narrow. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t, I guess I just got lucky. So that’s a yes? You’ll go out with me?”
“Yes, it’s a yes. And Caden, I’m sorry about kissing Dyl. I don’t know what I was thinking. I get so swept up in him that I don’t feel like myself when I’m around him, you know?”
I know, Juliet. Oh boy, do I know.
“Let’s go,” she says. “It’s freezing up here.”
I jump down off the railing. She follows behind me.
She screams. I spin around in time to see her smash into the ground. She’s on her back, holding her thigh. Her knee is red and bloody.
Take off your shirt and give it to her.
On the ground, Juliet is whimpering.
You did this to her, Kaylee. My voice sounds angry.
I did. Show her you’ll make her feel better when she hurts herself. You’ll thank me for this later, Caden.
I pull my shirt off and crouch in front of her.
“Caden, what are you doing? It’s freezing.”
I look into her eyes, and scrunch my shirt up so it’s like a cloth. “I need to stop the bleeding.”
She nods, giving me permission, and I press the shirt to her bloody knee. She winces and lets out a hiss. I tie the shirt around her wound, and then place my arm under her knees.
“Grab my neck,” I say. “I need to get you out of here.”
She loops her arms around my neck. I bend my knees and rise. She’s actually quite light.
“I don’t know what happened,” she says quietly as I begin our descent. “I was fine and then it was like the ground shifted. It was weird, Caden.” She leans her head against my bare shoulder. “I’m so lucky you were here.”
They did this. They hurt her.
Kiss the top of her head and tell her everything will be okay.
I ignore the voice in my head.
*
A hard knock sounds on my window. I slide out of bed and open it. Dyl lingers there, staring at me. It’s been a few hours since I last thought about him, as my anger at Kaylee has been brewing within me, consuming all other thoughts. I’ve punched my pillow so many times it’s now limp and lumpy.
“We need to talk,” I say as I open the window. “They went too far today. They …”
I look at his face.
His eyes are puffy and red. His bottom lip is wobbling. “Caden.”
My anger melts away. “Dyl, what’s wrong?”
He sniffs and wipes his nose on his jacket sleeve. “Can I come in?”
I look around at my bedroom and realize that no one I care about has ever been in it. I’m suddenly conscious of the smell, which is like me before I go to bed: sweat mixed with my deodorant, and it’s tinged with the slightly sour smell of unwashed clothes. What will he think about that? Will he think I’m dirty?
“Yeah, man,” I say. “Sure.”
He clambers inside. As soon as he’s in I pull the window shut. That makes the room seem even smaller, and the air feels warm and cramped, reminding me of the cabin where we kissed. I shove that memory away and push the window open again.
He looks around. “So this is your room.”
“It sure is.”
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 is something I 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?”