I JUST WANT YOU TO LIKE ME | ✓

▬ 03: miles the mender

            Ziri sits on the edge of the bunk bed to take his meds and I do my best not to frown. It makes him feel sick when he takes them before eating and I feel a little sick that I've put him in a situation where that's necessary.

When we descend to the kitchen, everyone but Iris is gathered at the table with breakfast plates already empty. Ông reads the paper whilst Má is bent over her phone and a notepad, looking frazzled and don't notice us come in. There's a chill in the air between her and Bà. Have they already argued? It's eight-thirty.

Ziri wishes them good morning with more pep than I can even think about mustering. Still, he stays at my heels as I beeline for the kettle to make coffee in the largest mug available.

'Did you sleep alright?' Bà asks.

Ziri turns around to face the table. 'Yes, thank you.'

He tugs at the sleeves of his jumper, crocheted by Sonia like all our jumpers. This one depicts a flock of sheep grazing on a hill that looks a little like the Windows XP background. It's loose on him, like all our clothes. Ziri still insists on us sharing a wardrobe even if I'm almost two sizes bigger than him now. He always wore baggy clothes anyway.

'It's cold though. I thought I might get frostbite.'

The laughter he sows into his voice is manufactured but, shockingly, Bà laughs too. She's trying. Maybe they will learn to like him.

I place a mug of tea in Ziri's hands and his discomfort melts as he looks at me. He shifts his head and I know he's about to kiss me, then realises where he is and says thank you instead.

I drink several gulps of coffee even as it scalds my throat to get enough energy to open the fridge. There's a container of leftover chicken which I take out to fry for sandwiches along with some spinach. I hand Ziri, who still hovers at my side, an Activia yoghurt to eat while I make the food. It's important for him to eat a balanced breakfast for his bipolar. He never skips it, even when he's running late.

'Anh ba sent me a list,' Má says to no one in particular. 'He's done most of the shopping last week but we still need some ingredients he forgot and fruit and flowers for offerings.'

'We'll go.' I volunteer before the question can land and the back of my neck burns. I make myself busy with breakfast. 'Just, we've a car and we need to go t'shops anyway to make summat without pork.'

            Ziri stares at the woman as he holds open the door to Bao & Hussain's Asian Market for her and her walker. After thanking him, she goes on to compliment his braids, then comments on the lovely weather we're having because it's the first day in a month that the sky has been so perfectly blue.

'Say summat,' I nudge him but when he don't, I turn to the woman with an apologetic grimace. 'Sorry, he's southern.'

Understanding dawns on her face. 'Ah. Well, love conquers all.' She pulls her bobble hat lower over her greying hair and hunches lower over her walker as stars down the street.

Ziri scowls her retreating back. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Nowt.' I prod him through the open door into the shop before we owe Bao and Hussain their entire electricity bill. He takes a basket and walks dutifully beside me as I look through Má's list though his glower don't budge and I cave. 'Just, it wouldn't kill ya to say hello to a stranger every once in a while.'

'Unless the stranger was a serial murderer, innit. In which cause it would.' Ziri speaks with the kind of dramatics that make the braids in front of his ears swing. Somehow he widens and narrows his eyes at the same time.