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."
