The Boyfriend Rivalry by Milana Spencer

14

Liam: Claustrophobic

I've said a lot of stupid shit in my life, but "I like someone else" is the most stupid. I have no idea why I said that to Curtis. In theory, it's because I wanted to get him off my back and prove I didn't have feelings for Kennedy. But instead of ending that conversation once and for all, I only ignited Curtis's curiosity.

"Who?" he'd said, bugging me for the rest of the walk home. "Do I know them?" "Do they live in Easton?" "Do they go to our school?" "Are they in our year level?"

I noticed the pronouns he was using. Maybe he's cleverer than I thought.

I mumbled "no comment" to all his questions while my heart pounded the entire walk home. I don't have an answer to Curtis's question. And even if I did, I wouldn't tell him.

Once we returned to the beach house, we talked to the girls who were watching the reality TV show. After discussing the movie, Curtis and I went up to the attic. Curtis read his book, and I watched anime on my computer, but my mind wandered to Curtis. Was I mad at him? Because he wasn't as bad as I thought he was? Because we had fun together? Because I liked his company?

Maybe I was mad at myself. Not only for saying that cursed sentence, I like someone else but other stuff too. Is the thought of dating me so horrifying? Or is it the thought of something thinking you were dating a guy? I need to think before I speak.

I avoided talking to Curtis for the rest of the night. This morning, he brought me a coffee — this time with milk and sugar — and I said thanks, but I've continued attempting to avoid him.

I made fruit smoothies with Bonnie after she came back from her run, then went on a short walk by myself. I face-timed my parents on the way, showing them the views of the ocean.

After spending an hour chatting to Bonnie and Erin, and later attempting to get some studying done, I decide to read in the hammock on the back porch. The fanfiction I'm reading will be a nice distraction from the real world.

Before I leave, I fill up a clear water bottle with cold water, then because I'm extra, I add lemon and cucumber slices to the water.

The back porch is made of light-coloured wood, stained with salt, like the rest of the house. Beyond it is a pale-green lawn, which I remember was once filled with cricket bats and a cubby house, but is now empty.

I head towards the beige hammock and — oh.

"Hi," says Curtis.

"That's my spot," I blurt.

He's lying in the hammock with a book resting on his chest. Instead of scowling at my words, he tries to sit up, but that's difficult to do and the hammock ends up swaying. "I'll get out," he says.

"That's okay," I say, "you have it."

"No, I'll leave," he says, swinging both of his feet over the side.

Please don't be nice to me. I point a finger at him. "Curtis," I demand.

He stills.

"Stay. I'll sit here." I find a wooden chair and drag it over. One of its legs is shorter than the others, so it rocks when I sit on it, which is annoying as hell. I pick up my water bottle and take a drink.

Curtis watches me for a moment, something like amusement washing over his face before it's replaced with something indecipherable. I've seen that look a couple of times before. It makes me nervous.

"Look at this water," I say to distract him, holding up the bottle. "I'm being so healthy."

"Good job," Curtis says. I think he's being sarcastic until he adds, "that looks yum."

On my phone, I open my web browser and am greeted with thirty different fan fiction tabs. I find the one I want, then glance at Curtis because I can sense him watching me.

He coughs when I catch him. "You can have the hammock if you want."

"I already said it's fine." I wish Curtis would be a dick again. It would make him a lot less distracting. Or, at least, distracting in a different way.

"It's big enough for us to share," he says.

The hammock is quite long, hanging between two poles that hold up the veranda. I think two of the cousins could fit comfortably, but Curtis and I?

"With my legs?" I ask.

He looks at them, and a shiver runs down my spine. "I think we can fit," he says.

It's decided. I'm a masochist because I say, "okay."

Curtis moves down the hammock, so his back is at one end. Carefully, I get into the other end, though it takes a couple of minutes until I'm settled in. We're not able to stretch our legs out completely without them being sandwiched beside each other, feet by the other's hips, so we decide to keep our legs bent up at the knee.

"Are you comfortable?" I ask.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

I set my phone on my chest and drink my water again.

Curtis watches me, a small smile on his lips. I wish he wouldn't do that.

"Do you, uh, want some?" I ask.

"You don't mind if I drink from your water bottle? It's an indirect kiss," he adds with a smile.

I look down, feeling my body go hot. Why would he say something like that? "I'm not sick," I mutter. "Have some."

"Thanks," he says, taking it. After drinking, he hands it back to me and we return to our reading.

After a couple of minutes, I glance up, and at the same time, so does Curtis. He smiles. "Hey."

"Hey?"

"Is it someone we've had a class with?" he asks.

"Oh, for god's sake," I say, pointing a finger at him. "No wonder you were so eager to get me to sit with you."

He chuckles. "People are more likely to confess to those who are in close proximity to them."

"Is that a rule?"

"No, I made it up. It's probably true though."

"Look, I changed my mind. I don't have a crush on anyone, so stop asking me."

"Liar," he says, eyes flashing with humour.

"I'm going to read now," I announce, waving my phone.

"Why don't you just ask them out?" Curtis says. "I bet they'd say yes."

"Stop flattering me." How many times has Curtis complimented me in the past few days? Kennedy should tell him to tone it down.

"Do they know you like them?" Curtis asks.

Definitely not. Then I correct myself: no, because I don't have a crush at all. "I'm reading," I say.

"Because maybe they'd ask you out, if they knew," Curtis says.

I bore my eyes into my phone screen.

"Is it someone who's here, in Lonsdale Bay?" Curtis asks. "Did you meet someone in the supermarket or something?"

"Listen, I don't like anyone, and even if I did, why would I tell you?" I ask, looking up at him.

There's a beat of silence and Curtis's body tenses. He's holding himself the way he used to around me, the way he does when he's closing himself off. Before he was laughing easily, limbs relaxed, as if we were… as if we were friends.

Well, there's no time to be guilty now. I've gotten him to stop talking, and that's what I wanted. I stare at my phone, the words meaningless under my eyes, and I read the same paragraph over and over. It feels like a disservice to the writer and their beautiful prose.

"Do you mind if…" Curtis says a few minutes later, his sudden words making me jump. He pushes his legs out a little. "They're cramped."

"Oh, yeah, sure." I stretch my legs, too.

"We should go all the way," he says.

I blink. "What?"

"Stretch our legs all the way," Curtis explains and pushes his legs down until his legs are right beside mine, his feet beside my hips.

I do the same and I know I am touch-deprived because this has my body shooting with electricity.

He's Kennedy's boyfriend. I don't know why my brain reminds me. I already knew that.

I last thirty seconds before saying, "I can't do this," and attempt to get out of the hammock. Of course, I make a clumsy mess of the whole thing, my feet catching on the fabric, and I trip onto the porch, the water bottle in my hands rolling away.

Well. That was only the most humiliating experience of my life.

The hammock rocks like a boat on waves, and Curtis clutches the sides, attempting to control it. "What the hell, Liam?" For the first time this afternoon, he isn't smiling at me. It's a relief.

"Sorry. I should have thought before I… yeah."

"What's wrong?" Curtis asks.

"Um, nothing." It's an obvious lie because I've acted like a total maniac. "Sometimes I just get claustrophobic."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's not your fault!" I say. "And you apologise way too much."

Curtis opens his mouth then closes it.

"You were going to say sorry again, weren't you?"

He betrays a hint of a smile. It's nice, but heartbreaking when I remember how freely he laughed fifteen minutes earlier. I was mean to him. And now I'm going to be mean again.

"I think I'll read in the living room instead," I say. "There's better air conditioning there."

"And more space," he says.

"Yeah. More space."

I pick up the water bottle which has rolled under a dusty table, then give Curtis an awkward wave. "See you."

"Bye," he says before his eyes flick back to his book.

Okay, yeah, I've been rude. But with Curtis, I'm realising it's safer for me to be on the aloof side rather than too nice to him.

He's not an idiot, and if I'm not careful, he's going to think of a reason I'm acting so strange, and that won't be pretty.

*

I read in the living room for the next hour, while the girls study in the dining room, their papers spread out across the table. When I get hungry, I go to the kitchen to make myself a fruit salad. As I'm cutting slices of watermelon, Bonnie enters the kitchen, an empty water bottle in her hands.

"Ooh, what are you making?" she asks as she fills up her water bottle.

"Fruit salad," I say, the chopping board surrounded by apples, watermelon, pineapple and grapes. "Want some?"

"Thanks! I'll cut this," she says, taking the pineapple I haven't cut yet.

I grab another bowl from a cabinet and start adding watermelon to it.

"You know what we should do?" Bonnie murmurs.

"What?" I ask, leaning towards her to hear her better.

Her eyes glitter. "Go drinking. We've been here for a week and haven't gone out once. Isn't that sad?"

I widen my eyes. "God, you're right. I can't believe we haven't."

"Right? We're eighteen so we should go somewhere and get a couple of drinks together."

"We'll have so much fun." I could use getting drunk. It'd get rid of the weirdness I'm feeling.

Bonnie scoops up the pieces of pineapple she's cut and places them into the bowls. "Erin must have rubbed off on us, for us to forget that alcohol exists."

"Shit, will Erin go for it, though? Kennedy mentioned she's kind of strict…" I say.

Bonnie tips her head, chest heaving with a big sigh. "Usually, she's more chill, but I think she's stressed since our parents will murder her if something goes wrong on this holiday."

"Should we just ask her and hope she's lenient?"

"No, don't. If you do, she'll say no, and then she'll be more vigilant."

I add grapes to the bowls. "Then what should we do?"

"We could…" she tips her head from side to side. "You know."

"Are you suggesting we sneak out?"

"I've done it before. If you think Erin is strict, you should meet my parents. I mean, we don't have to," she clarifies, "but I think it's the only way."

"No, of course, I want to!" I say and look down at the bowls overflowing with fruit. It takes a moment for me to gather my thoughts. "Damn, Bonnie, I'm impressed."

"Why?"

"You're way cooler than me," I say. "I've never snuck out."

Bonnie giggles as we pick up our bowls and take them over to the kitchen table. Once we've sat down, Bonnie pulls her phone out. "I'll do some research on the bars and clubs, see where's the best place to go."

I take my phone out to help her research.

A minute later, Kennedy walks into the kitchen, spots Bonnie and me, and takes a seat next to me, helping herself to a grape.

"That's mine," I say.

Kennedy looks at me with big eyes, a tactic she used as a child to get what she wanted from unsuspecting adults. Now eighteen, it shouldn't work, but with a sigh, I pass Kennedy my bowl and fork and tell her to help herself.

"What are you two up to?" she asks.

"Researching bars," I answer in a low voice. "Remember when we were talking about that a couple of days ago?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. We should! Does Curtis know yet?"

"No," I say. "Would he be coming too?"

"Yeah. Why, is that a problem?"

"No," I say. I don't want Kennedy to think I'm not getting along with Curtis anymore. But being near him makes my stomach twist. "It's just that I don't know if he'd approve of sneaking out."

Kennedy relaxes. "Nah, he'll be happy to go."

We nibble on fruit while we compile a list of the best bars in Lonsdale Bay according to online reviews.

"Alright," I say, setting my phone down once we've finished. "What's the plan? How are we going to get out?"

"Well, Erin, Kennedy, and I have already made plans to binge TV tonight. Erin's planning to make pizza," Bonnie says. "It'll be a bit sus if Kennedy and I suddenly say we're tired so going tomorrow would be better."

"Okay," Kennedy says, clapping her hands together. "It's a plan!"

"What's a plan?"

The three of us almost fall off our chairs at Erin's voice. She walks into the kitchen, getting herself a cup of water. When none of us answers her, she raises an expectant eyebrow.

"Liam," Bonnie manages. "We're going to force him to watch our new favourite TV show if it's the last thing we'll do."

"That's right," Kennedy says, nodding. "Once he's obsessed with it, he'll have to eat his words. Snob." She pokes me in the ribs.

Erin laughs. "Nice," she says, and when she turns to look in the fridge, Bonnie, Kennedy and I deflate with relief.