Page 30 of The Love Interest
“I am.”
“Then it’s settled.” She places her hands on her hips and glares at me. “Jesus, Caden, you haven’t changed at all. Come with me, I’ll get you cleaned up for dinner. Richard!” she hollers. “Bring a shirt down from your closet.”
What does she mean I haven’t changed at all? Was the first Caden a troublemaker? Shouldn’t Kaylee have told me?
Richard pops his head out from the kitchen. He has Juliet’s round face, kind eyes, and brown hair that’s buzzed super short. “What?”
“You heard me! Now go. Caden, follow me. Juliet, set the table.”
I follow her down a long hallway. We walk to a small white-tiled bathroom. A shiver runs down my spine at the sight of the bathroom, so clean, so similar to the LIC. I pause at the doorway, my toes wiggling into the comforting softness of the hall carpet, the air in my lungs feeling cold and clammy. I recall my mirrored cell, the classes that felt like torture, and the constant feeling of dread that accompanied every single day at that accursed place.
Daphne is standing in front of a gold-framed mirror, riffling through a first aid kit. She looks up and narrows her eyes. She does it the exact same way Juliet does: an expression that is clearly supposed to look stern, but actually looks cute. “What are you doing? Get in here.”
I shrug my shoulders. I’m free now, and I’m never going back there, so there’s no need to panic.
I walk into the bathroom and stop in front of her. She steps closer and peers at the cut on my temple.
“It’s just a scratch. He was probably wearing a ring. Does your head hurt?”
Obviously.
“It’s not that bad,” I say.
She turns on the tap. “That’s a good sign. Now wash the blood off and then put this”—she hands me a Band-Aid—“on the wound. You’ll be fine. And be quick about it! I’m starving.” Richard passes her a shirt and then she passes it to me. I start to grab it.
Her grip on the shirt tightens. “Just so you know, Juliet’s life has been so peaceful since you left. You show up and one day later this happens. I’m starting to think you’re a drama magnet, Caden.”
She releases the shirt and rushes out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I take my shirt off and take a second to check my body for injuries. There’s a fist-sized bruise on my lower back, but other than that I’m fine. I probably should tell someone about the bruise, but that could mean Juliet sending me home and I can’t risk that.
Carefully, I put on the new shirt, which is a navy dress shirt with black buttons. It feels soft and silky against my skin. I splash hot water onto my face and rub until my cheeks turn red.
My face still looks alien, too perfect to be me. Even though I’m tired and stressed, my skin looks tan and clean. The skin under my eyes matches the rest perfectly: there’s no darkness. Even with the injuries, including a small cut that slashes through my right eyebrow, I look good.
I splash one last handful of water onto my stupid perfect face and walk out of the bathroom.
In the dining room, Juliet and her mom are seated, chatting. I walk in and the conversation nose-dives. Juliet dips her head slightly and smiles, but one hand reaches out and fiddles with her fork. Her mother raises one hand and places her thumb under her chin, inspecting me like I’m a piece of art. Which I guess I am. All I’m missing is the doctor’s signature on my ass.
Richard enters with a tray containing a golden roasted chicken, crispy potatoes, and carrots dripping with oil. The smell of it makes my mouth water.
“Caden,” he says as he places the tray in the middle of the table. After pulling off his oven mitts, he walks over to me. “Look at you!” He squeezes my shoulder. “I hardly recognize you! You’ve lost a lot of weight. Now sit, and let’s see if we can put some of those pounds back on.”
“Sounds like a plan!”
I take a seat opposite Juliet.
“So what happened to you?” he asks as he slices into the chicken. “Why were you bleeding onto my carpet?”
“Just some thugs.”
“Just some thugs?”
“Yep.”
Juliet leans forward. “It wasn’t a big deal, Dad.”
“Itisa big deal! You think I’m going to let you go out at night alone now that I know… thugs are roaming the streets!”
Juliet rolls her eyes. “Dad, we have company. Can you not be overprotective for two seconds? And look at this.” She shows him her fist. The knuckles have been scraped raw. “I punched one of the guys. I’m not defenseless.”
