The Boyfriend Rivalry by Milana Spencer

21

Curtis: Tell Me About

Halfway through dinner, Liam's phone beeps with a text.

"It's from Kennedy," Liam says and reads out the message. "Got here safely. My grandma is already driving me insane. Says I need to grow my hair out to look like a proper lady."

I smile while Liam types out a response, but my stomach drops. If Kennedy and I were still dating, I'd have gotten a message from Kennedy too. She'd sign it off with a heart emoji.

It's a dumb thing to feel surprised about, but it's weird, adjusting to the breakup. I don't like thinking about it, so I've distracted myself since it happened with studying and reading and Liam.

Liam puts his phone down and we talk about random stuff — Year 12, our favourite movies and TV shows, food. He does most of the talking while my mind spins. Kennedy. Liam. Me. I wonder if Liam and I will still talk when we return to Easton. Would we stay friends? He said he liked me, and I believe him, but I know he'd choose Kennedy over me if it came to that. I wouldn't blame him, but the idea of Liam and me returning to being strangers fills me with fear.

After finishing dinner and washing up, Liam and I study for an hour and a half before getting bored and returning to the master bedroom to watch more anime. With every episode that passes, my body relaxes more, and I sink into the bed.

Once it hits eleven o'clock, Liam yawns. I'm pretty tired too, but we finish the episode. Once it's over, Liam gets out of bed and rubs his eyes. He grabs his toothbrush from the bedroom's ensuite, a bathroom double the size of the one in the attic with a huge bathtub.

"We should sleep soon," I say.

Liam hums in agreement. From my position on the bed, I can see his reflection in the mirror. He runs a hand through his messy hair.

"I don't want to leave," I murmur.

Liam freezes for a second then continues brushing his teeth.

"Not because I like your company, or anything," I add. "I just want this bed."

Liam pokes his head out of the doorway so he can look at me, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, and staggers back as if I've shot him, clutching his heart.

"You're so dramatic," I say.

"You're so mean," he counters, words hindered by his toothbrush. "Anyway, there's no way in hell I'm sharing the bed with you. You'd probably push me off it in the middle of the night."

"What about I get it tomorrow night?" I ask.

Liam gives me a you-wish look.

I sigh and pull myself out of the bed. "I'm going, I'm going."

Before I leave the bedroom, I say goodnight to Liam. He's returned to the bathroom, so I only hear his "night!" before I walk up to the attic.

The bedroom is dark and cold because I left the window open. It feels too silent here, brushing my teeth and showering without hearing Liam move around in the background. I can put on my pyjamas without checking if Liam is nearby. At the beginning of the holidays, I always changed in the bathroom but now I just change wherever.

Has Liam ever checked me out while I was getting changed? I can't think of a single time I caught him. Just because he's gay doesn't mean he'd want to check me out, obviously. If anything, I was the one who looked at his body far too often.

Shaking that thought from my mind, I turn off my lamp and get into bed, too tired to read before bed. A couple of minutes pass in the darkness before I turn over in my bed to look at Liam's empty bed, the blankets stretched over the mattress. It's so different from the usual tangle of sheets and long legs.

Liam likes boys. I have a vague memory of him mentioning kissing at the bar. He's kissed boys. Then I wonder about Mr S and Prince Zuko and every other guy I stared at for too long. I think about that night last year in Jasper's bedroom. It's not gay if it's just one kiss, we'd said. The next morning, he never brought it up, so I didn't either.

I turn over in my bed so I'm not looking at Liam's bed anymore and squeeze my eyes close.

*

The next morning, we have a late breakfast, sitting at the kitchen table. It's quiet without the girls chatting in the background. It's almost too silent.

I sip on my black coffee while Liam nurses his coffee filled with a ridiculous amount of milk and sugar. "Kennedy messaged me this morning," he says. "They should return at midday tomorrow."

"Cool." I nod my head, attempting to look nonchalant. Two nights isn't a long time. When Kennedy returns, will it be less awkward, or more? Maybe I should go home to Easton early after all.

After breakfast, since there's nothing better to do, Liam and I try to study for a couple of hours at the kitchen table. In actuality, we keep distracting each other with funny stories from our classes and memes on our computers. I tease him about being our English teacher's favourite and he smacks me in return, and it hurts, but I like the touch, anyway. So yeah, that makes me sound insane. Mostly, though, I'm glad that Liam studies with me, instead of hiding away in the master bedroom like yesterday.

At lunchtime, I lean back in my seat. "Want to have lunch?"

"You could make us sandwiches," Liam says, dropping his pen and stretching his fingers. Sometimes those fingers make me grit my teeth.

"Am I your housewife?"

Liam gives me a devious smile. "Of course not, darling. You're just very skilled at cooking." He drops his theatrical voice. "Seriously, though, dinner last night was delicious. But what do you want for lunch?"

"We should go out," I say. "I'm going to go crazy if I'm stuck in this house any longer."

"It's been less than forty-eight hours," Liam says.

"And I've been stuck with you the entire time." I grin and stand up, stretching my arms above my head.

Liam watches and rests his head on his palm. "Don't pretend you don't love me."

"Why do you think that?" I ask.

"Everyone loves me," he drawls sarcastically.

"So you're not totally oblivious after all," I say.

His mouth parts and I smile triumphantly. "Get your jacket," I say, turning to leave for the staircase. "Let's leave now."

*

Twenty minutes later, we arrive at a bakery mere metres from the ocean. White concrete has been poured over the sand and large umbrellas shade the outdoor seating. There's a long line in front of the counter and Liam and I study the menu, written with chalk on blackboards on the walls.

"What are you getting?" Liam asks.

"Steak and kidney pie," I reply.

"Hmm," he says, still scanning the menu. "I kind of want a jelly slice."

"For lunch?"

Liam glances at me and chuckles at my expression — I must look horrified. "Alright, I'll get a sausage roll and a jelly slice. We can share the slice. Also, I'm paying for lunch."

"Liam —"

"Because you paid for the movie ticket and food," he continues. "So don't argue."

We arrive at the front of the line and order, and despite my protests, Liam pays. We choose a table outside, sitting opposite each other.

As soon as I stretch my legs out, my calf grazes Liam's. "Your legs are everywhere," I complain.

Something passes over his face, but then he smiles. "Did you read last night?" He's changing the topic, and he's not moving his leg away. Then again, neither am I.

"Nah, too tired. Anyway, I only have one book left and a lot of time left in the holidays to read it."

"It's the one about mindsets?"

"Yeah," I say, nodding. "Everyone has beliefs about money and if you have healthy beliefs, you'll have a healthier relationship with money and your overall quality of life should be better." I go into further depth, explaining the book, and Liam nods and keeps eye contact. I get so excited speaking, that I almost forget about his leg burning a hole into my calve.

I'm interrupted when a waitress arrives with our food, and Liam tells her to place the jelly slice in the middle.

"So at university, you want to study commerce, right? What do you want to do after?"

"I'd like to be a financial planner," I say as I cut up my pie.

"So you'll help people organise their money?"

"Yeah," I nod. "I'd give advice on how to deal with debts, and how to save and invest. All that kind of stuff. Some people have money but bad habits learned from their families, or just not being financially literate, and so they squander it. And some people don't have that much money, so I want to help them make the most of it. I know people think money's kind of vulgar, but you can't deny how much influence it has on people's lives. If people's financial situations are better, I'm sure their whole life will be better."

I shrug and look up from my food to see Liam smiling softly at me.

"What?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "You're a good guy, Curtis. I don't know why I thought you were an asshole for as long as I did."

I look down at my food. "I want to be a financial planner, not a saint. Besides, I bet Kennedy thinks that my interest in finance makes me a capitalist pig." God, I did not mean to say that.

"You're lucky you know what you want to do with your life," Liam says. "And that you're able to go to university for something you're passionate about. I'd bet you make a good planner."

"Thank you," I say.

"You'd be good with clients," he continues.

"Stop flattering me," I say. "Really?"

"Yeah, just look at how popular you are with teachers at school. You're a bit of a teacher's pet," he teases.

"Oh, come on," I say, rolling my eyes. "This brings us back to before, about how you're Ms Lipson's favourite. It's annoying, actually"

"What is?"

I finish my pie, chewing slowly just to watch Liam squirm as he waits. He's already finished his sausage roll — he probably ate it in three bites. "How charming you are," I finish.

He looks surprised for a second before cracking into a grin. "Stop it," he says, before telling a story about how he convinced his Year 9 Humanities teacher to throw a class toga party and I laugh so hard that people from nearby tables give me concerned looks.

"So is this what you meant before, about me being oblivious?" Liam asks. He picks up his fork and digs it into the red, white and beige jelly slice, nodding at me to take some.

"I'm okay," I say, looking at the slice. "And yes, that's what I meant. Sometimes, you act like you don't know how likeable you are."

"Eat some," Liam commands, and when I don't, he raises his fork loaded with slice to me, as if he's going to feed me like I'm a baby.

I shake my head.

"Curtis."

"Liam," I reply.

He drops it, shrugging, and places the fork in his mouth. I watch him eat. He catches me, and his lip curls. "You think I'm likeable."

"I'm not stupid, I know you're fishing for compliments."

"I'm not super vain, I just want compliments from you."

"Why?"

"Because I care about your opinion," Liam says.

I stare at him and he stares at me, before glancing down at the slice, and I feel the heat of his leg disappear. I don't know how to reply and the quiet makes me feel itchy, so in the end, I pick up my fork and eat some of the slice, just to have something to do.

*

That evening, after dinner, Liam and I plan to study. That lasts about fifteen minutes before Liam suggests we have a typing speed competition. We use a website to compete, and he wins, which I hate. I suggest we play a multiplication game. I find a multiplayer one from my primary school days where kids all over the world race. Ten people race at a time and Liam and I obliterate the children playing. More importantly, though, I beat Liam every time.

We waste the rest of our evening playing old computer games from our childhood. It's surprisingly entertaining, and Liam and I can't stop laughing as we compete against each other. At ten thirty, I push my computer away.

"I was supposed to write a practice essay."

Liam gives me a sympathetic smile. "At least we practised our times tables." He closes his laptop lid and tidies his notebooks and textbooks, and I do the same.

"Do you want to watch a couple of episodes before bed?" Liam asks.

I open my mouth, about to say yes when my eyes catch on his lips.

"Er," I say, "I think I'll just have an early night. Shower and read and then go to sleep."

His brows jump up, but he nods. "Good idea," he says. "We'd end up staying up too late, anyway." He rubs his palm over his side.

You on your knees. I like looking down at you.

Okay, why am I thinking about that?

I remember sharing the hammock with Liam. The way he fell out. Lunch today, with his leg against mine.

Stop it, Curtis.

"Yeah," I say, faking a laugh.

We share an awkward wave and "night" before I walk up the attic stairs and Liam disappears down the hallway into the master bedroom.

In the attic bedroom, I shower and pull on my pyjamas. I stare at my reflection in the mirror and plan the rest of my night. I will crawl into my bed and read my book for half an hour, and then fall asleep, and definitely not have dreams about Liam wearing nothing but those goddamn pyjama sweatpants low on his hips —

Ten minutes later, I'm knocking on the master bedroom door.

"Curtis?" Comes Liam's voice.

I poke my head in. "Um. Hey."

"Something wrong?" Liam says. He's lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone, which rests on his stomach. His eyes flit over me. Not because he's checking me out or anything. Definitely not.

"You're not watching anime?" I ask, opening the door and standing in the doorway.

"Nah, if I watched it without you, you'd have to catch up."

"Nothing's wrong," I say, answering his earlier question.

"Okay."

A corner of his lips lifts, and I take that as an invitation to enter the room, closing the door behind me.

"You can kick me out at any time," I say. "I just was bored."

"Going to try to steal the bed again?"

I roll my eyes as I get on the bed. I'm close enough to Liam to see his hair is damp from a shower. He smells like soap. His eyes crease as he looks at me. "You can have the bedroom if you want," he says in a gentler voice.

I shake my head. "No, it's okay. But thank you for offering."

Liam smiles, and he turns over so he's on his side, facing me, his phone sliding off onto the sheets. "So. What's up?"

I want to get under the blankets too. Is that weird? Fuck it. I slide my legs underneath and pull them over my body, then mirror his position.

"Nothing. I don't know."

I drag my eyes over Liam. That black hair, and those dark eyes that always seem to shine when he looks at me. His face has always been so annoyingly beautiful.

"How have you been feeling?"

From the tone of his voice, I know he means Kennedy. I shrug, which is hard to do on my side. "I don't think about it. I try not to think about it."

Liam doesn't reply, but his eyes prompt me to keep going.

"It's almost like the whole relationship was pointless. Which it wasn't — I don't regret being with Kennedy, but I feel like… I was a bad boyfriend."

"You weren't."

I shake my head. "I just feel like I put her through all this trouble for nothing."

"It's not your fault. It's not only your fault," Liam amends when I open my mouth to interrupt. "A relationship includes two of you, so you can't put everything on yourself."

I take a deep breath. "I still feel guilty."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you," I say. "Because of so many reasons."

Liam reaches out and touches my arm. His hand is warm. "You can trust me."

I take another breath. "I think…part of the reason Kennedy and I broke up… is because I like someone else."

Liam inhales and drops his hand.

"And she doesn't know. So, yeah, I'm a shithead."

"You can't help who you like. Trust me, I would know," he mutters.

I try to lighten the conversation. "Are you talking about your secret crush?"

Liam turns away, falling onto his back and looking at the ceiling. "Let's not talk about that." I drop the topic, not wanting to upset him, but then he casts a look my way. "But yes."

"At least now I know it's a guy. That limits the pool of guesses."

He looks at me for a long time, and I feel self-conscious under his gaze. Maybe I shouldn't have said that.

"Sorry," I say. "I don't want to annoy you."

"You're not annoying me." He's still looking at me in that way that makes my skin go hot.

"I don't want to go," I whisper.

Liam turns over to face me, and I swear he's closer than he was before. "Scared of sleeping alone?" he teases.

"Tell me about your secret crush," I say. I don't know why I'm saying the random things I'm saying, but the words slip out of my mouth. My heart is pounding, and I should run away, but I just want to get closer to him.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

I move a little closer to hear him better. His eyes drop to my lips.

"And I don't think you staying in this bed is a good idea, either," he adds.

"I can go," I murmur.

He shakes his head.

"Okay," I say.

We stare at each other. I don't know how much time has passed — it might have been a minute or an hour.

"Tell me about this someone else you like," he says.

I shake my head.

"You interrogated me about who I liked for days."

"I was a little obsessed, wasn't I?" I ask. "I think I was jealous."

He leans a little forward. "Jealous?"

It feels as if my heart has stopped beating. Maybe I'm a masochist, or maybe I don't care anymore, but I nod.

Liam stares at me. Oh god. I already know what he's going to do — jerk away from me in terror, confusion, disgust. Kick me out of the bedroom. Call Kennedy and say that he was right to hate me from the beginning. Never speak to me again. I've ruined our friendship. I've ruined everything.

"Anyway," I say, trying to sound nonchalant. "Tell me about —"

Liam grabs the front of my pyjama shirt.