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The one thing that they managed to keep secret from Neil and Jay was the night they learned that Simon wouldn’t be moving to Swansea after all.
Will was hunched over his computer, fingers reworking his UCAS personal statement for the thousandth time, substituting the smallest of words and rewriting chunks of paragraphs, when his bedroom door abruptly slammed open. His suspected that it was Jay or Neil—the inconsiderate arseholes—but before he could reprimand them, he turned to see that it was just Simon.
“I’m not moving to Swansea,” he managed to say between gasping puffs on breath. So this was one of the rare occasions he chose to run. “I’m not moving to Swansea!”
Will stared at the other boy for a few dragged seconds, taking in this piece of news. When it settled into him, filling up his heart, he lurched from his chair with lightning speed. “That’s bloody great news!” Instinct told him to hug Simon, but he wasn’t sure how he would react.
Simon seemed to read his mind, and they settled for a convincingly straight one-arm hug. Not a bent one. “Your dad got his job back then?”
“Yeah, yeah, it seems he wasn’t one of the few who got wiped out. Whatever. I don’t know why they made such a bloody fuss about it in the first place,” Simon rolled his eyes. “The point is I get to stay here, spend time with you sad lot before Roehampton, and get together with Carli.”
Will didn’t mask his skepticism. “Isn’t she back with that Tom bloke? Again?”
“Once she hears that I’m staying, she’ll leave him. You’ll see.”
Part of Will didn’t want to burst Simon’s little bubble of romantic delusion, but as his duty of self-appointed best friend, he deemed it grimly necessary. “Oh, I don’t know, Si. I think that whole spectacle of climbing into her little brother’s room should put you in the backburner.”
“That was an honest mistake!” seeing that Will wasn’t convinced, he got out his phone. “When we went camping at that shithole, she texted me back with this.”
Will looked down at Simon’s screen. Carli had returned the filthy prank text with a winky face. A bloody winky face. “Look at that! She might as well be John Keats,” Will remarked drily. “Except that you’re not her bright star. You’re her dim-witted, blind star who keeps following her beck and call even when the damn constellation is clearly fucking broken.”
Simon stared at Will as if he sprouted wings. “Don’t you know what this means? It’s a clear invitation to flirt, which is like, a few steps from marriage. She’s never texted me like this before.”
“Right, because the rest of her texts are one-word messages.”
“The element of mystery is very important. God, Will. Don’t you have a romantic bone in your body?”
“As a matter of fact, I do! It’s not my bloody fault you’ve never shoved your face out of Carli’s arse to notice.” He was frustrated and worn-out, suddenly realizing the impossible distance between him and Simon, even if said boy was standing right in front of him. He sat down on his bed, semi-wishing that Simon would leave him alone.
“What, you mean Charlotte?” his voice softened, and he sat down beside Will. “I didn’t know you were so keen on her. I mean, I get it, since she’s your first near-shag or whatever, but she’s not exactly the right girl for you.”
“I don’t exactly trust your judgment,” Will shot back. “In case you haven’t noticed, Carli’s boring.”
“Will!”
“When was the last time you had a conversation with her that lasted for more than two minutes? And helping her with Geography doesn’t count.”
“You’re a right twat.” Despite his words, Will heard a hint of humor in Simon’s voice. A letting go of his personal insecurities for a moment. “I can’t expect every bird I fancy to maintain an exhilarating conversation about...books or whatever. She’s not like you and me.”
Will scoffed. “We never talk about books, though I would love to have a conversation that bears some semblance of sophistication.”
“You know what I mean. You and I, we can talk about nothing and everything for hours.” Simon nudged him. “I thought you’d be a pain up my arse with that briefcase and those pretentious spectacles, but you’re alright.”
“Jay would say we’re gay if he hears a word of this,” said Will, hoping that Simon was clueless enough to not notice that he was blushing rather profusely. “But for the record, I think you’re alright too. More than alright.”
They fell silent, and Will wondered if he’d said too much. Simon was oblivious to most situations, especially romantic, but perhaps he had crossed a line this time. He darted a glance at him; Simon’s face was expressionless as he gazed back at Will.
The mood has changed, he reckoned.
“I just realized how much I’m going to miss you when we all go separate ways,” Simon started. “Well, I should’ve known that when you were the first person to pop into my mind when I heard that I wasn’t moving to Swansea.”
“The others are gonna be pissed.”
Simon shrugged. “Eh. I think they know.”
“Know what?”
“Well...I...nothing. Nothing really. Bloody hell, is that a bottle cap collection on your desk?”
“Don’t change the subject, Simon,” Will grimaced. “And, yes, I’ve been collecting since I was nine. It’s a perfectly respectable hobby.”
“Okay, so here’s the thing, mate.” Will’s heart was racing; did Simon know? How embarrassing would that be? He had just escaped the taunts of boarding school boys, the last thing he wanted was for Simon to lock him out too. “I may be a bit...confused. Sexually. Like, when I’m around you and stuff.”
Will couldn’t believe that he was hearing this. “Wait. Let me rewind and try to understand what you’re saying—”
“I like you, Will. Even more than Carli, but I guess I fixated on her so much because it would be weird. There, you have it.”
“As in, you fancy me? Or is it a case of ‘you’re not so bad-looking a bloke compared to Jay and Neil?’ Or is it like ‘please affirm my attractiveness before I stalk after her?’”
The next thing he felt was Simon’s lips on his. They were slightly chapped, but Will couldn't give less of a shit. He opened his mouth in response, and suddenly they were kissing, breathing in the same air, hands lost in each other's hair. Teeth clinked against teeth in a way befitting two inexperienced boys (technically, Simon gained some experience with Tara, but Will certainly did not want to think about her at this moment).
Kissing Simon was different from kissing Charlotte, that's for sure: he thought it'd feel weird to be this intimate with a boy, but this was his best friend, and the crooks and quirks of Simon's body was something like home to him by now. “Hope that answered your question,” Simon breathed, after they went up for air. “Sorry. I couldn't find the words that didn’t make me sound like a total creep.”
“So sticking your tongue down my throat was your genius solution?” Will grinned to show that he was teasing. “You’re lucky that I fancy you, you twat.”