The Silver Soldier

XIX

Juliette has been giving me tips the whole ride there.

1). Take your shoes off when you enter the house.
2). Offer any help if needed.
3). No touchy stuff (hand holding, kissing, etc.).
4). Cover any tattoos.
5). Try not to have a resting bitch face.

"What? I don't have a resting bitch face." I argue, glancing over at her. "Do I?"

She laughs. "Only when you're bored."

"How do you know when I'm bored?" I ask.

"When you have a resting bitch face."

I pause. "Do I really?"

Juliette nods. "It's kinda scary. That's why most girls stay away from you."

"Huh?"

"Oh my God, you're so clueless." She shakes her head. "Do you not see all the girls looking at you in the halls? Or hear them talking about you?"

"What? No." I lie, looking confused. Of course I notice, I know everything that goes on around me. Part of it is my training, but I've always been observant. I can notice when someone is cheating on a test by the way they breathe, or know when someone is talking about me by the way they advert their gaze. I can know what a person is thinking by the way their eyes move.

I look over at Juliette, she is laughing, not at me but at my response. She meets my gaze for a split second before bursting into laughter once more. But it's enough. Despite looking happy right now, she's nervous, scared to introduce me to her parents.

What if they don't like him, she seems to ask. My Dad doesn't like anyone.

"I don't care about what other girls think." I say, moving my right hand off the steering wheel and over to her thigh. "You're the one I need to impress."

"But right now focus on impressing my parents. You've already won me over, all you have to do is charm them too."

"Easy for you to say, you're not the one doing the charming." I pull into her driveway, making sure not to block in the car already there.

"Ready, Romeo?"

"Nope. Not a single bit. Is it too late to bail?"

She opens her door, getting out. I do the same. "Yes, silly. Just calm down. Everything's going to be fine."

"You're dad's going to kill me."

"He's not that bad."

I give her a side glance. "He's got guns."

"For hunting, not for you." She rolls her eyes. "You're safe." And before I know it, we're at her front door. I slick my hair back with my hand, looking down at her.

"Ladies first."

"Julie? Is that you?" A woman calls out from some part of the house - which I recall to be the kitchen. I have been studying the layout of her house since I left Malgasco.

"Hey Mom." Juliette yells back. "I have someone for you to meet."

There is a shuffle of footsteps, and a dark haired lady come into the front foyer. She looks like Juliette, but with a few wrinkles and a birthmark on her cheek. "Oh!" She smiles, extending out her hand. "You must be Cole, I've heard so much about you."

I return the handshake, smiling back. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Horivan."

"The pleasure is all mine." She gestures to the rest of the house, "please, come in." I pull my shoes off, leaving them sitting neatly with the rest of the pile, beside the door. Juliette leads me inside, following behind her mother. "I hope you like pasta, Mike is just starting the sauce."

Geez this family eats early.

"Pasta sounds great." I respond in a pleasing tone. It's not like I'm going to say I don't like pasta, who doesn't? We walk into the kitchen, my gaze lands on a man, his back to us as he stands over the stove top. Michael Horivan. I look around, seeing Juliette's little brother grating cheese at the island in their kitchen. "Is there anything I can help with?" I offer.

"Oh, no dear. We're almost done anyways." Julie Horivan smiles, again. Michael still hasn't looked at me. This might be a long night.

"Do you want to go downstairs and pick out a movie for after dinner?" Juliette asks, already pulling me towards the basement before I answer.

I nod, following her down. "What we're you thinking?"

"Captain America?" She suggests. They had just made movies in honour of the avengers, to thank them for saving the world. I don't think they deserve it, if I'm being honest. Sure, they're the good guys, they do everything right and save people. But I think that a movie where the villain wins would be so much more entertaining.

"I've only watched the first one, not the rest."

"I guess we'll have to watch the second one then." She goes sorting through the DVDs, pulling out Captain America and the Winter Soldier.

I met the Winter Soldier once, before the Avengers kidnapped him, that is. He was a cool guy, I liked the metal arm and all, I wish I got the chance to get one along with my other replacement. It would be pretty badass.

"Dinner shouldn't take too long." Juliette lays the movie on the table, bring me back upstairs. "Then we have the whole night to ourselves."

"I like the sound of that."

We all move towards the table, I pull Juliette's chair out for her to sit down. I want to look like a gentleman, not a trained killer. Michael Horivan is a good cook, I'll give him that. The pasta is amazing, it's in this creamy Cajun sauce, not too spicy but spicy enough. Dinner starts off in silence, which I don't mind. I'm not one for talking.

"So, Mr. Grant," Michael clears his throat, placing his fork on his plate. I look up at him. "How did you meet my daughter?"

"Juliette showed me around on my first day of school." I place my fork down as well. "And you can call me Cole, sir."

He nods, but he doesn't seem satisfied. "And what are your grades like, Mr. Grant?" I feel Juliette go ridged beside me.

"In which subject?"

He pauses. "Let's start with math."

"At the moment I have a 97.6."

"And English?"

"A 98."

"What is your favourite subject?" He challenges, sitting back in his chair.

"Dad, you don't have to drill him." Juliette tries.

I place my hand on hers underneath the table, silently telling her it's alright. "At my old school we had a course where you could pick any language and begin learning it." Which isn't an entire lie. "I guess Americans would call it a language class."

He nods again. "Which language did you choose."

"English, at first. Then Spanish and German." I put a very faint Russian accent in my voice, he is the only one that hears it.

"And you are Russian?"

"Yes sir."

Another nod. Then, He picks up his fork and begins to eat again, I do the same. That is, until his phone buzzes on the table.

His face pales when he reads the notification. "Alec is missing." He looks up at Juliette. "He didn't attend classes today, Scott hasn't seen him since last night."