Page 53 of In the Same Boat

‘I’m mature,’ he insists, exploding a zombie’s head with a shotgun.

‘Clearly,’ I say sarcastically.

That gets his attention. He turns his head slightly, eyebrows lifting.

‘This is a highly skilled and strategic game.’

I look pointedly at the television just as his character smashes a zombie in the face with a baseball bat.

‘Sure,’ I reply.

His mouth curves, and for one annoying second I realise I’m enjoying the bantering, just a bit. Sitting next to him, teasing him, eating his food. For a silly second it feels like we could be a couple – if we didn’t dislike each other.

Fortunately, I am extremely sensible. I’m not easily won over with chips or lust-struck by abs.

Most of the time.

‘Well,’ I say, pulling myself to my feet, ‘good luck with your skilful and tactical bludgeoning.’

‘Cheers.’

‘Try not to save the world too loudly. Some of us are trying to survive sharing a double bed with a parent.’

He laughs.

‘I’ll keep the apocalypse down.’

‘Appreciated.’

See, we’re being mature already… sort of.

I start back towards my cabin, then hear him call softly after me.

‘Night, Sammie.’

I glance back. He’s already turned back towards the screen again, but he’s smiling.

‘Goodnight, Nico,’ I reply.

By the time I slide back into bed beside Mum, my side feels even smaller than it did before. Mum murmurs something incoherent and shifts closer – ah, my side is smaller. I gave up territory and Mum claimed it in her sleep.

I lie down, on my side, and listen. I’m trying to work out if I can hear Nico’s game, any shots, any screams, any skulls exploding. I don’t think I can hear a thing but it’s like I want to, like I’m searching for a reason to be mad at him, something I can go back out there and have a pop at him for. But why? Because I’m that annoyed at his presence that I’ll pin my anger to anything? Or because I want to see him in his boxers again?

I dread to think which one it is. Probably better to switch back to plan A: willing myself to sleep.

I’m sure it will be fine. Nico and I can simply avoid each other politely until it’s time to go home. I don’t know what will happen after that – I need to try not to worry about it. Perhaps, as Mum and Hank get to know one another, they’ll realise they don’t like each other as much as they first thought. Or maybe my joke about him being my next dad wasn’t so silly after all. I just need to take it one day at a time – and protect my own sanity.

But if Mum is spending all her time with Hank, and Nico and I are both sharing what feels like a relatively small space, we’re bound to wind up spending time alone together eventually, aren’t we? And it’s in that moment where one of us ending up overboard might be a genuine possibility. Assuming I’m strong enough to push him.

12

NICO

I always wonder why it is that even the men who can’t cook are experts at cooking two things: breakfast and barbecue.

Genuinely, I am near useless in the kitchen, but my breakfasts could win awards. I don’t know how it’s possible, but if I’m making a full English – it’s perfect. Making hot dogs on the barbecue – a work of art. But as soon as I try to cook the same sausages for bangers and mash – absolute failure.

I’ve woken up feeling like I need to try harder, to make this trip work, even if it’s just to make it go faster. I started thinking about what I could bring to the table and it came to me… breakfast, no pun intended.