I lower my voice to match her volume. "He asked me about my food."
"And he greeted you this morning, and both times you were super rude."
"I—" I open and close my mouth — "that's just what we do. You know how we are around together."
"That's how you two used to be, but Liam's making an effort. Can't you?"
I don't know what to say, and Kennedy closes her eyes in frustration. "Fuck, Curtis. Please don't be stubborn about this."
"I'm not!" I say too loudly, and the others glance over at us. "I'm not," I whisper. "He's not even being nice to me, anyway. He's being… weird."
"You sure? Because to me, it looks like Liam's realised the antagonism between you too is pointless and immature."
If Liam's anything, it's immature. He won't be nice to me because of some weird moral superiority. I was nice to him when I first started dating Kennedy. He started this.
"Are you calling me immature?" I ask.
"From the way you're acting, yes," Kennedy says. I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out, and Kennedy turns away to join in with the others' conversation.
I busy myself with my breakfast until I finish it. When I look up, Liam gives me a small smile, encouraging smile.
Wow. That almost looks genuine. I wonder what his ulterior motive is, why he's suddenly pretending to be nice. It's not like he was friendly in the bedroom last night.
Maybe he's only like that in front of Kennedy. Maybe he wants to make me look bad. Maybe he wants to sabotage my relationship.
#
Kennedy's irritation with me continues after breakfast, though she deigns to let me hold my hand. I wish I could make her see that while Liam might be a nice friend to her and the cousins, he's a dick to me. But we've had that conversation so many times, and every time she's been on Liam's side.
At the local supermarket, Bonnie and Liam zoom off with a trolley. To no one's surprise, they head to the sweets aisle.
Erin and Kennedy laugh, and the three of us trail after them. Before the display of lollies, Bonnie and Liam pick out a packet of sour chews.
"Do we want to get diabetes?" I ask.
Kennedy gives me a look, even though my tone was polite. Besides, my comment was genuine. I'm actually being nice by caring about their health and wellbeing. But I correct what I said, anyway. "What I mean is… perhaps we could decrease the number of lollies we get and find delicious alternatives."
"Sure," Bonnie says absently, popping the lolly packet into the trolley, anyway.
"Curtis is right," Erin says. "We can't eat lollies for lunch. Come on, let's go get some vegetables."
While Bonnie and Liam play with the trolley — Liam pushing it and Bonnie riding it (how old are we, seven?) — Erin discusses recipes she knows and picks out healthy staples. While Kennedy still seems frosty, she helps us get the ingredients we need. I grab a packet of green tea.
At the self-serve checkout, I pull out my wallet just as Erin and Kennedy take out theirs.
"Put that away, Curtis," Erin tells me. "You're a guest."
"You're letting me stay with you, at your family's house. The least you can do is let me pay for the groceries."
"It's fine, Curtis," Kennedy says. "Now, Erin, let me pay. You did all the driving yesterday, and you covered the fuel —"
While they bicker, I reach out and press my debit card against the card reader. A second later, the checkout makes a sound and Erin and Kennedy look over.
"Curtis, you didn't," Kennedy says.
"Curtis…" Erin begins, frowning.
"Come on," I say with a cheerful smile, picking up the bags of groceries.
