The Boyfriend Rivalry by Milana Spencer
6
Liam: Green Tea
Curls of wind travel from over the ocean and crash against the five of us. Beside me, Bonnie wraps her arms around herself. "I thought the beach was warm," she says, teeth chattering.
"Not in April," Kennedy says.
"Leaving the house without a jacket doesn't seem like such a good idea, does it?" Erin asks from the front of our group. She walks beside Kennedy and Curtis, who are holding hands, while Bonnie and I wander behind. We're walking through the park that's on the cliffs above the beach, heading towards the centre of town.
Tonight, when no one felt like cooking, despite all the groceries we bought earlier today, we decided to get takeaway fish and chips and have a picnic in the park.
"My phone said it'd be warm tonight," Bonnie grumbles. She's wearing a thin long-sleeve shirt and corduroy pants. "I should have dressed like you," she says to me.
I'm wearing a shirt, a hoodie and a jacket, with a beanie pulled over my head. "You said I looked like I was dressed for the snow!"
"Yeah, well." Bonnie shakes her mane of hair out of her face. "They say beauty is pain."
"Here," I say, stopping and pulling off my jacket.
"Oh, Liam, no —"
"Take it," I say, handing it to her.
After a moment of hesitation, she takes it. "Thanks. You sure you're not cold without it?"
"I'm fine." My hoodie is pretty thick, and I've warmed up from our walk.
We pass restaurants with outdoor seating and glowing heat lamps. On the beach below us, middle-aged and elderly couples walk barefoot on the wet sand, holding their shoes. A group of pre-teens shriek as they run past them.
This town is beautiful. I'm so lucky I get to be here. I guess I should be grateful to Curtis for that, but if Kennedy wasn't inviting Curtis, she would have invited me in his place.
"I'll remember to give it back to you," Bonnie says.
I jerk my attention back to her. "Hmm?"
"The jacket."
"Oh. Yeah, I need that back. That's a limited edition piece of merchandise."
"For a TV show, right?" She tries to look at the embroidery of anime characters at the back.
I nod and give her a brief explanation of the plot that doesn't do the amazingness of the show any justice. "I scoured the internet to find it and I found it on eBay and then I had to go through outbidding everyone else. Then I had to get it shipped from Japan which was expensive as hell. God, that was exhausting."
Ahead of me, Curtis snorts. Was that because of me? Surely he's not listening in to Bonnie and my conversation. Doesn't he have better things to do, like talk to Kennedy?
Then again, he and Kennedy don't seem to talk much and have the same boring conversations over and over. Although, maybe they have riveting conversations when I'm not around. I wouldn't bet money on it, though.
"I've forgotten to give jackets back in the past," Bonnie says. "And hoodies. And jumpers. Guys have given them to me and I've just forgotten."
"God, no need to make me jealous. I get it."
Bonnie almost stumbles on the footpath. "W—what?"
"You, drowning in men," I say, gesturing dramatically. I wish I were surrounded by admirers, but I guess Kennedy's right about how obnoxious I am.
Her cheeks flush. "No, that's not what I meant."
"You just said that guys give you their clothes all the time, Bonnie," I tease with a wagging finger.
"Now I sound like I'm bragging," she says.
"If I were in your place, I'd brag like hell. But the most romantic compliment I've received in recent years is that you thought I was hot. Although I don't know how much weight I should give that compliment because you also called him hot." I jerk a thumb in Curtis's direction.
Thankfully, he's talking to Erin, probably about something boring as hell, so he doesn't hear.
Bonnie's mouth falls open. "What? You don't think Curtis is —" she lowers her voice, "— attractive?"
I open my mouth, about to retort in the negative, when I remember my promise to Kennedy. By explaining that I don't think Curtis is attractive, I'd have to explain how the way his awful personality overshadows his looks.
"I mean, I don't like him in that way," Bonnie clarifies. "But from an objective perspective… he's… you know. Kennedy's lucky."
"I… okay, yeah, I guess." Bonnie's studying my face and I flush, feeling awkward. I change the topic. "So tell me about all your suitors."
Bonnie snuggles in her jacket, looking at her feet for a moment, before launching into a long speech. She explains that she's had a couple of boyfriends in the past, but now she's not interested in anyone.
I tell her I wish I had a love life. I've had a few crushes from afar, and a ridiculous number of fictional crushes.
"Don't tell me they're all anime characters."
"What's wrong with anime characters?" I ask.
"They're so good-looking. Impossibly hot," Bonnie says. "Real people can't compete."
I laugh. "Okay, that's true."
The five of us slow down as we approach a fish and chip shop at the end of the park. The shop is red and white and decorated as if it's from the 1950s. We wait in the busy line and once at the front, Erin asks for the Harding order. Everyone gets their phones out to pay, and Curtis appears to be winning the race until I swoop in and tap my phone against the card reader. Everyone grumbles good-naturedly while I pick up the bundle of chips wrapped in white-grey paper. When I turn, Curtis is still standing behind me, frowning. He paid for the groceries — the least I can do as a fellow guest is pay for as many dinners as I can. I'm about to tell him this until I see our feet are almost touching. "Didn't mean to push you out of the way," I say, remembering how I jumped in front of him. "But hey, I'll let you get the next one."
His eyes fall, seeing how close we're standing, and turns away, shoulders stiff. Jesus. For someone so obsessed with personal finance, he should be pleased he's saving money.
Bonnie grabs the box of fish and the bottle of soft drink, and we leave the shop to find a nice place to sit in the park.
"But seriously," Bonnie says, falling into step beside me. "Girls must have crushes on you at school."
I shake my head. "Remember what Kennedy said at her house? I'm apparently very obnoxious."
"That's gotta be a lie."
"Bonnie, are you flattering me?" I tease.
She nudges me with her elbow. "I'm just saying that you seem friendly to me."
"Aw. Thanks. You hear that, Kennedy?" I say, raising my voice.
The others have wandered a couple of metres away, finding a spot on an open area of lawn, and Kennedy tugs a picnic blanket from Erin's backpack. "Huh?" she calls.
"Bonnie said that I'm not obnoxious. That's the kind of thing a best friend is supposed to say."
Kennedy makes a face. "Fine. Bonnie can be your new best friend."
"She already is," I say with a grin.
"Well, Erin's my new best friend," Kennedy says, unwrapping the blanket with Erin.
"That so?" I ask.
Curtis watches our exchange with a furrowed brow but disguises it by busying himself with plastic cups.
"It's true," Erin pipes up, "we've already exchanged friendship bracelets." Her total lack of emotion makes her words funnier.
Everyone sits down, and Bonnie and I unwrap the food while Curtis pours the soft drink into plastic cups. The fish is covered in crunchy thick batter and on top of the crispy golden chips are potato cakes for Kennedy.
"I swear, years ago, the two of you had friendship bracelets," Bonnie says, pointing at Kennedy and me.
Kennedy howls with laughter. "No, not bracelets. Rings!"
"Rings?" Curtis echoes, looking more confused than ever. "Like engagement rings?"
That makes everyone, except Curtis, laugh.
"They were super cheap," Kennedy explains as everyone digs into the food.
"I don't remember them," I say.
"They were — what are they called — the ones that change colour?"
"Mood rings?" Erin asks.
Kennedy claps. "Mood rings!"
The memory of a black ring on my pointer finger dawns on me. From Kennedy's smile, she sees that I'm remembering.
"I used to cherish that ring," she says. "I thought it actually told me my mood."
"I think I still have mine somewhere," I say. "I'll find it when I get back."
"And do what with it?" Curtis asks, raising a brow.
"Maybe I should wear it," I say.
"Wear it?" he echoes.
"Yeah. Mood rings are in fashion at the moment."
"At the very least, you'll be in fashion with the Y2K aesthetic," Bonnie offers. "Or the E-boy look. But you almost look like an E-boy, anyway."
"You're going to wear it?" Curtis asks.
I know Kennedy said to be nice, but it's painful, putting a smile into every one of my sentences. "You're not the fashion police, are you?"
"You know what?" Kennedy interrupts. "I think I have my ring at home, too. I'll give it to you, so you can wear two." She picks up a chip and passes it to Curtis.
After a second, he takes it and lets himself get distracted by eating. The girls talk about current fashion trends, and while I try to pay attention, I can't help fuming.
The way Curtis spoke… Maybe I'm not a textbook boring-ass eighteen-year-old guy like him, but I can have character. I can wear mood rings if he wants.
I look at my hands and remember when I had black fingernails during the summer holidays. I had to remove the nail polish for school, because of the uniform policy, which is bullshit. But it's the holidays again.
"Hey, we should go to the pharmacy at some point. Buy some nail polish." I wiggle my fingers at Bonnie.
"Oh my god, Liam, you have to let me give you a manicure," she says.
"Bonnie has freakishly steady nails," Erin says, before taking a bite of batter-covered fish.
"It's a plan," I say. I reach over to grab a handful of chips, and as I do, I catch Curtis staring at me. I wish he wouldn't do that.
*
Two hours later, the five of us return to the beach house, tired and shivering. The wind got worse as we walked home, and we ended up running across the empty roads and down sidewalks to get to the house as quickly as possible.
In the living room, there's a huge flat-screen TV hoisted onto the wall, and Erin suggests watching a movie. Kennedy's not enthusiastic — she's not a big fan of movies — so we end up spending fifteen minutes browsing through streaming services, trying to decide a movie to watch. In the end, we choose the old Disney classic, Beauty and the Beast.
Halfway through the film, when I'm no longer full from the fish and chips I ate at the park, I grab a packet of lollies from the grocery store and hand it around. Everyone takes some — everyone apart from Curtis, though. He doesn't thank me for offering, just shakes his head, nose in the air.
Asshole. Being polite to him is way too hard. I was already losing my shit at the park, so how am I going to last for the rest of the trip?
Before the movie finishes, Curtis says he's tired and disappears into the attic. For some reason, that annoys me, even though I prefer for him to be out of sight.
Once the movie finishes, Bonnie and Erin yawn and leave too. Kennedy and I decide to have another hot chocolate before bed and go to the kitchen.
"Thank you, Liam," Kennedy says.
I empty two hot chocolate sachets into our mugs and then pick up the kettle. "Hold your horses, I haven't finished them yet." I pour the hot water, stir with a teaspoon, watching the powder turn into frothy chocolate goodness.
"Thanks," Kennedy says when I pass her the mug. "But I meant, thank you for putting in an effort. With… him."
I lean against the kitchen island too, eyes fluttering close. "You don't know how hard it is," I mutter. "He makes me want to pull my hair out."
"He doesn't," Kennedy says, taking a sip.
I open my eyes and look at her. "Yeah, he does. It's been almost 48 hours of this. Not once has he been nice to me in return."
"I'm sorry. Curtis is just…"
"You're making excuses for him," I say. "Why don't make him promise to be nice to me too?"
"You're right. I should."
"Yeah," I say, and take a long drink of the hot chocolate. The sweetness relieves my anger a bit.
Kennedy sets her cup down and starts rummaging through the cupboards.
"What are you looking for?" I ask.
"Green tea," she says. "I know we have it — we bought it at the supermarket — ah-ha!" She finds a green box and opens it up, revealing thirty crammed green tea bags.
"You haven't finished your hot chocolate yet," I say.
Kennedy ignores me, picking out a teabag and putting it into a new mug.
"If you won't have it, I will," I say, reaching out to take hers.
Kennedy spins around and slaps my wrist. "The tea's not for me, it's for Curtis."
"Huh?"
She fills up the mug with hot water and bounces the tea bag up and down; the water turning light green. "He likes drinking it before going to bed."
"Why not make him a hot chocolate?"
"Too sugary."
"So, what, you're going to bring it up to him like a mother? What if he's asleep already?"
"I doubt that's true," Kennedy says, eyes flicking to the clock.
I follow her gaze. It's a little before ten, so he's probably reading his finance book.
"Well, if he wanted tea, he could get it himself. You're spoiling him." I finish my hot chocolate and rinse the cup out in the sink.
"It's a nice gesture," Kennedy says, tossing out the teabag in the bin. "And I'm not bringing it to him. You are."
I stare at her. "God, the things you make me do," I say after a moment.
"It's not a big deal. You're going upstairs to sleep anyway, so just bring it to him. It's a gesture of friendship."
"I'm going to look like a goddamn waiter. A postman. Here, Curtis, is a gift from your girlfriend —"
"No," Kennedy interrupts, pushing the mug into my hand. "You won't say it's from me."
"Kennedy…" My fingers burn from the heat of the mug.
She finishes her hot chocolate and puts it in the sink beside mine, then crosses her arms as she looks at me. "Just say, Kennedy mentioned you liked tea at night. I thought I'd bring you some."
"He is so not going to believe that. He's going to think I poisoned it!"
"He is not," Kennedy says. "Fine, don't explain it at all. Just do it." She pushes me through the kitchen door. "This is the first step in your friendship."
I snort at that. "We will never be friends."
"I think you're more alike than you think," Kennedy mutters, nudging me up the staircase.
"Okay, okay," I say, pulling myself away from her grip. "I'm doing it. If it ends badly, I'm blaming it on you."
"Sounds good," Kennedy says, and waves. "I'm off to bed. Have fun bonding."
I roll my eyes and trudge up the stairs, careful not to spill the tea.
In the attic bedroom, all the lights off except for the lamp on Curtis's bedside table, emitting a circle of gold. As I guessed, he's sitting up in his bed in those ridiculous striped pyjamas, reading his investing book. He's already up to the last quarter.
His eyes flick up and meet mine.
"Hi," I say, walking up to him. "I brought you some tea."
Instead of reaching for it, he stares at me.
"Alright, I'll just put it here," I say, setting it on the bedside table. "It's green tea, by the way. That healthy stuff you bought."
"Did you poison it?" Curtis says after a few seconds.
"I thought you'd say that. But no. And if you die, you can rest easy knowing my fingerprints are all over the mug."
I wiggle my fingers at him, then depart for the bathroom to have a shower. While I undress and get the hot water running, I wonder what Curtis is doing with the tea. Maybe he's opened the window and chucked it out. Maybe he suspects an alien has abducted me and is now wearing my skin.
Under the hot water, I massage my skin with soap. There's no time better for a hot shower than a chilly day. Afterwards, I dry myself with a fluffy white towel and wrap it around my hips before leaving the bathroom. Curtis is in the middle of taking a sip of the tea when he sees me.
"I see you're not dead yet," I say, before walking over to my bed to grab my pyjamas. "Told you I didn't poison it."
"Ha," Curtis says.
I turn around, and his eyes are on his book. I could get changed in the same room as him — it feels excessive to go to the bathroom, close the door and get changed there — but then I remember his eyes on me that first night. Yeah, I don't want to drop the towel and have him judge my backside. Not that I'm insecure about my body, but Curtis has a way of making me feel a prickle of insecurity about everything.
So I disappear into the bathroom.
A couple of minutes later, I get comfortable in my bed, wrapping the blanket around me. I turn off my lamp, and all I can hear are the turning pages of Curtis's book and his occasional sips of tea. I close my eyes, but like yesterday, I can feel the light of his lamp behind my eyelids. So, like yesterday, I keep my eyes open and wait for him to finish.
"You know," I say a moment later, "nice favours like bringing refreshments warrant a thank you."
Curtis jumps at my words, head whipping to my bed, and I remember he can't see me watching him, can't see my face at all.
"Did I scare you?" I ask, a smile in my voice.
"I thought you were asleep."
"I can't sleep until you turn that lamp off," I say.
"You said that yesterday."
"Even if I were reading something interesting, I'd be a considerate roommate and turn the light off."
He scoffs.
"Hey. I am considerate — I brought you that tea."
"You're going to hold that tea over me for the rest of the trip, aren't you? It's just a cup of tea." Curtis keeps his eyes on his book as he flips a page. I don't know how he can read and talk at the same time. "You can read something too. You can read your fanfiction."
I sigh, wishing I'd never brought that up.
"Why are you so embarrassed to talk about it?" His brows raise. "It's not kinky shit, is it?"
"I'm not embarrassed to talk about it," I snap. "I just don't want to talk about it with you."
We're silent for a moment, and even though I hate facing the wall, I turn on my side and do it, anyway. "I'm going to sleep now," I announce.
Of course, that's a lie. I can't sleep when I'm thrumming with annoyance, when I'm facing the wall and feeling claustrophobic, when Curtis's stupid lamp is still on. I close my eyes and lower my breathing, but I'm still awake.
An eternity passes until I hear the rustle of the book being placed on the bedside table and total darkness replaces the lamplight. Curtis's sheets whisper and he tucks himself into bed. Quietly, he says, "thank you, Liam."