"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."
