The Boyfriend Rivalry by Milana Spencer

20

Liam: Alone Together

I sit on the king bed in the master bedroom, cross-legged like a five-year-old. On the carpet in front of me, Kennedy sorts through a pile of clothes, dumping the ones she needs into a suitcase.

The suitcase is Erin's. Since the girls will be away for only two nights, they don't need to bring much, so they're sharing one suitcase between the three of them.

"It sucks that I only got this room for a couple of nights," Kennedy says, tucking her hair behind her ear as she uses her other hand to fold a sweater. "At least you'll get to enjoy it, though. Better bags it before Curtis."

When I don't respond, she looks up from her folding. "Liam?"

I blink. "What? Oh, yeah. I'll let him know."

"You alright?"

"Yeah!" I say, shaking my head to focus on this current conversation instead of drifting off with my thoughts. "Everything is just happening so quickly."

"This wasn't what you expected when you signed up to come to the beach. I know we're being awful hosts," Kennedy says.

"No, it's fine. I can manage being here by myself — well, not myself, with Curtis. You know what I mean." I'm blabbering like an idiot.

Kennedy forces a smile, sadness in her eyes. "Good thing you guys are friends now, right?"

I nod.

Last night, while Kennedy and Curtis went out, Erin and Bonnie explained to me what was happening: they were going to Melbourne and would be away for two nights. And I would stay here with Curtis. Just the two of us.

Saying I'm freaked out is an understatement.

I woke up earlier than usual this morning to have breakfast with everyone and see the girls off. As usual, Kennedy left packing to the last minute, so after breakfast, I followed her to her room to talk to her.

"It has," Kennedy agrees, folding her pyjamas. Her shoulders are hunched over when usually she has the posture of a ballerina. I thought she was distressed over family drama and the sudden change in plans, but it's something more than that.

"Hey," I ask, sliding off the bed and landing on the floor beside her. I touch her shoulder. "You okay?"

Kennedy meets my eyes, and after a second, nods.

"Oi," I scold her gently. "I'm your best friend. Don't lie to me."

Kennedy bites her lip, a sign that soon she's going to tell me bad news. And then she says it. "Last night, Curtis and I broke up."

Everything goes quiet. I force my mouth to move. "W—what?"

Kennedy shrugs. "It was the right thing to do. It was mutual."

"What?" I repeat. "That came from nowhere."

"Yeah. Well… yeah."

I pull her into a hug. "I'm sorry," I say, my head resting on her shoulder.

Kennedy takes a deep breath into my chest. "Thanks. I don't know how I feel. In the moment, I was super nonchalant about it, but I now I feel numb."

I pull away to look at her face. Her expression is blank, but she inhales a wavering breath and tells me everything. When she talks about her and Curtis's plan to sleep together yesterday morning, my first instinct is to jerk my head away and not listen, but that story doesn't end the way I expect.

I feel sorry for Kennedy. I wish the relationship worked out. Even if I sometimes have complicated feelings about Curtis, that means nothing. I want Kennedy to be happy, and I want her to have a loving relationship.

We talk about it for a little while, and I keep offering the same useless platitudes to cheer Kennedy up. Her mood seems to improve a little when she mentions how it'll be good to get away from Curtis, but her eyes dim again when she remembers she has to deal with her family in Melbourne.

In silence, Kennedy packs the rest of her stuff and together, we bring the suitcase out to Erin's car in the front-drive.

Erin, Bonnie and Curtis are already there. Erin talks on her phone, and from her exasperated tone, I'm guessing she's speaking to relatives. Bonnie and Curtis chat and I glance at Kennedy.

Do the cousins know about the breakup? Probably not yet, though I bet Kennedy will tell them on the drive up to Melbourne.

Which brings me to another thought. I walk over to Kennedy, who has just loaded the suitcase and is closing the trunk.

"Hey," I murmur in a quiet voice. "Do we hate Curtis now?"

She shakes her head. "No, he's a good guy. It just wasn't meant to be." She wraps her arms around herself, pulling the edge of her sweater over her hands. I haven't seen Kennedy look so vulnerable in ages, and it pisses me off. For a second, I have the urge to yell at Curtis for hurting her.

Kennedy must see it because she touches my arm. "Liam, don't fight with him. I'd hate for you two to throw away all of your progress these holidays, just because of me."

"I'll fight him if you want to. Or give him the silent treatment. Or refuse to help him make dinner."

Kennedy chuckles, and the sound relaxes me a little. "I know you would, but it's okay. We don't hate him."

I scan her face, then salute her. That makes her smile. Thank god. I don't like seeing her down like this.

Erin finishes her phone call and I say goodbye to everyone, telling Erin to drive safely and crouching down to hug Bonnie.

"This sucks," she says into my ear. "It's all my fault because of the photos. It was my idea to go out, and now we're leaving —"

"Shh," I interrupt. "It was an accident. Anyway, you guys will be back before you know it. Have a good time."

Bonnie gives me a doubtful look like that's impossible. I've met some of Kennedy's family before, but how intense are they?

Curtis says bye to everyone, although when he speaks to Kennedy, their exchange is stilted. I give Kennedy another hug before she gets into the car. The car doors close and Erin backs out of the driveway. Curtis and I stand on the front porch and wave, watching the car until it disappears down the street.

Curtis turns to me and shoves his hands into his pocket. The wind has messed up his golden hair. "So. Just us," he says.

I swallow. "Yeah."

After a couple of seconds of silence, he clears his throat. "I'm guessing Kennedy told you… about me and her…"

"Yeah."

"Do you hate me now?"

I wish I could. I really wish I could. I shake my head. "No."

"Okay."

"Kennedy told me not to," I say as if to explain myself, and we head inside. At the staircase that leads to the attic, I tell him, "by the way, I bags the master bedroom."

I've taken him aback, but after a second, a soft smile spreads across his lips. "Fair enough."

"Hey, I'm taller than you. I need the extra space," I say as I head up the stairs.

"I'm broader than you," Curtis says, following. "Besides, you sleep in the foetal position. I've seen you."

"Creep," I toss back.

Curtis's deep laugh follows me into the attic room, and it squeezes my heart. Okay, I won't hate Curtis for these two nights — not that I could if I tried — but that doesn't mean I have to be his best friend.

It's dangerous if I let him get too close.

What if I say something I shouldn't? I've never been the best at thinking before I speak.

Besides, now that he and Kennedy have broken up, that's more important than ever. I can't make the situation any worse for Kennedy than it already is.

*

I spend the rest of the morning moving the stuff I need from the attic bedroom to the master bedroom. I try to limit the number of things I move, because I know I'll have to return it all to the attic when the girls come back.

While I do that, Curtis sits at the kitchen table with his computer and homework spread out before him. It reminds me to study as well, though I opt to do that at the desk in the master bedroom. Better to avoid Curtis as much as possible.

After several hours of studying, I decide to reward myself with anime. The master bedroom has its own TV on the wall opposite the bed, so I connect my laptop to the computer and pull up my favourite anime streaming website. I settle myself on top of the bedcovers with my back propped up with pillows against the headboard.

About ten minutes into an episode, Curtis appears in the doorway.

"Hey," Curtis says.

I pause the episode with the remote. "What's up?"

He enters the room and looks at the screen. "Anime?"

"Yup."

He takes a step closer to the TV. "Is it in English or Japanese?"

"Japanese, but there's an English dub."

"Huh." He raises a brow at me. "So what's it called?"

Those are the only words I need to get me talking. I tell him the name and try my best to explain it, but I've never been good at summarising stories. "It sounds simple," I say when I'm finished, "but it's so much more than that. It's great. And sports. You love that."

"Then why are you watching it?"

"Hm?"

"I didn't think you were much of a sports fan."

"It's more about the plot and characters for me," I explain.

Curtis looks at me.

"And," I admit, "the shirtless guys are also a pretty good selling point."

Curtis is surprised for a moment, before breaking into a chuckle. "Fair enough. Alright, let me see what all the fuss is about," he says, walking to the bed. "You mind if I watch with you?"

"There's no way you're actually interested."

"I'm bored," he says. "Besides, you don't know whether I'm interested or not. You can't read my mind."

"Yes, I can," I respond. "I'm very good at reading people."

"What am I thinking now?" Curtis asks, but rather than wait for a response, he pulls himself onto the cover. The mattress dips with his weight, and he adjusts himself, thankfully a good metre away from me.

I let out an exaggerated grumble while I restart the episode for his sake. I can't stop myself from explaining each of the characters and important plot points, trying to speak quickly so Curtis won't miss important pieces of dialogue.

At one point, Curtis stretches his legs out. He's wearing long pants like me, but they ride up his legs, so I see his calves covered in blonde hair. I compare our heights. Curtis's feet end where my ankle begins.

Occasionally, Curtis chuckles to himself or gives me knowing glances. I wonder if he's going to tease me when the episode finishes. It was only recently that watching anime wasn't a totally dorkish activity.

The episode finishes and I pause the screen before it auto-plays the next episode. "Alright, lay it on me. I can just tell you want to tease me."

Curtis's lips twitch, but he doesn't respond.

I shoot a hand out and whack him. "Just say it."

"I would have figured out you were gay ten times faster if you told me you watched this show. I've never seen so much skin in my life."

I whack him harder. "You make it sound like a porno. And you're wrong, by the way. This show has a huge fanbase, including straight guys."

"Mm-hmm."

"Because the plot and the characters and the dialogue are all really good. And you can't tell me the animation isn't beautiful."

He smiles. "It is pretty. So, do you read fanfiction for this show?"

I pause and Curtis laughs, though not maliciously. "I'm right, aren't I?" he asks.

"I hate you," I say, and play the next episode.

We watch a couple more, then take a break to get a drink of water.

"So you said that the fanfiction you read is romantic, right?" Curtis says as we're settling back into the bed for another episode.

I sigh. "Yes."

"Which couples do you read about? I bet I already know."

"Then tell me."

"Those two main characters. The rivals, right?" Curtis tries to say their names and butchers them. "Yeah, they have some sexual tension between them. Do they get together?"

"Of course not," I say. "That's all just fan service."

"But I'm right though, aren't I? You read fanfiction about them."

"Mm-hmm. That's one of the most popular ships. Although there are a lot of ships within this show… you know what a ship is, right?"

"I can guess."

"Don't repeat this conversation to anyone at school. I'd lose all my street-cred if people knew I was invested in the romantic relationships of fictional characters."

Curtis laughs.

"What?"

"'Street-cred'" he echoes.

I roll my eyes and whack him again, and he sobers. "My lips are sealed," he says. "Now, come on, let's watch the next episode."

I pick up the remote and press play.

"You like it, right? You're not just suffering for me?" I ask as the intro plays.

"I do, weirdly enough."

"That sounds like a back-handed compliment," I say and Curtis smiles.

This show is like my comfort show. I started it in my early teen years when life wasn't great. Part of that was me fighting a lot with my parents, like a lot of teenagers do. But around that time, I was confronting my sexuality, which freaked me out a bit. Kennedy was super supportive though, and the team in this TV show felt like my fictional family. Not that I'd admit that to anyone because that sounds lame as hell. But when you feel alone, it's nice to take whatever you can get.

After an episode finishes, I glance outside. The sun is setting, turning the clouds orange. "We should get started on dinner," I say. "Though I'm not sure how we'll manage without Erin and Bonnie to help us cook."

Curtis stretches his arms out, causing his jumper to ride up. I avert my eyes from his exposed skin. Whatever I'm feeling is normal teenage horniness. It doesn't mean anything, except that I should jerk off as soon as possible. Tonight. Good thing we're sleeping in separate bedrooms.

"It won't be a problem," Curtis says, pulling me out of my thoughts. "I'm a cooking whiz."

I raise a brow. "You?" Now that I think about it, whenever he cut vegetables for dinner, he always minced them neatly and quickly.

"Yeah, I cook a lot for my family. Gotta help out with my siblings and all." He pushes himself off the bed, and I do the same, though I fiddle with the remote to turn the TV off.

"It's a good show," Curtis comments. He's lingering in the room, waiting for me.

I look at him, but his expression is genuine.

"Of course it is," I answer. "I have good taste."

"Who's your favourite character?" Curtis asks as we leave the bedroom, the bed covers left a little wrinkled. "Let me guess, it's the main character."

"That's not an impressive guess," I say, holding back a smile because he's right. "Everyone loves him."

We enter the kitchen, and Curtis says we should make pasta. As we pull out ingredients, I discuss all of my favourite characters — and there's a lot. Curtis should know by now that once he gets me talking, I can't stop. Especially about anime.

"And I think he's the hottest in the show," I finish, talking about the antagonist. "He has nice shoulders."

"You're a shoulders guy?" Curtis asks.

He's boiling a saucepan of water, but even from my view of his profile, I can tell his expression isn't judgemental. It's nice that I can talk like this to Curtis, but it's also weird.

"I guess," I say, before changing the topic to what we'll do tomorrow. As Curtis talks about plans to get out of the house, I peek a glance at him.

Curtis has nice shoulders.