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Nick arrived early, in the hopes to be there before Charlie. Maybe because he was nervous. Or excited. Or anxious. Or just needed to build up the courage.
He had thought about it the previous night. Everyone after practice kept talking about Tara and Imogen... and him. Everyone, except Charlie. Charlie was quiet, more than usual. And he looked... defeated? Upset? A bit angry? Nick couldn't really fully grasp what was going on, but he knew two things: one, Charlie was not his usual happy self and, two, he himself felt like the whole conversation was a huge, very uncomfortable weight on his chest. He didn't care about Tara or Imogen. Tara was just a girl he had kissed years ago. Yeah, he really liked her back then, but he hadn't thought about her in ages. And Imogen? What about her? She was just a friend he hanged out with before classes.
Unlike Charlie. He thought about Charlie every day, he talked to him as much as possible, and he wanted to spend every moment with him. He liked Charlie. He wasn't sure what that meant exactly, he couldn't really understand in which way he liked Charlie. He knew there was some sort of attraction he had been feeling increasingly, but... was it actually romantic? A crush of some sort? Or just a platonic feeling, a really deep, strong friendship...?
Was there any chance that he might be falling madly in love with the cutest, loveliest and kindest person he had ever known?
Nick was just... so, so confused. He was unsure about almost everything, his brain second-guessing every thought and feeling he had. But he was certain of one thing: he liked Charlie. More than anyone. And Charlie was actually the only person Nick wanted to go to Harry's party with. Because everything was better when Charlie was around. And they would talk, and laugh, and Nick knew he could be truly himself. He wouldn't have to pretend, to play the role of the rugby king, one of the lads, to tolerate the banter and the jokes that he actually didn't really like that much. With Charlie, he could just... be.
Nick fell asleep after deciding to ask Charlie about the party, and that was his first thought when he woke up. He was grateful for a hectic morning routine that allowed for little time to think, so that his own brain would not try to talk him out of his decision. Before he realized, he was already sitting on his desk, in form. Waiting for Charlie. Now finally freaking out on the inside due to a rampage of thoughts and feelings that combined utter happiness and full-on panic for what would happen. If Charlie didn't come soon, he would probably explode.
And there he was. Charlie. And everything became clear. Nick softly smiled as his friend approached.
"Hi," Charlie said, grinning. He seemed happier than the previous day, the kind warmth back in his voice.
Nick took a deep breath. Words were stuck in his throat, sentences were not forming in his brain. He couldn't find the way to articulate what he wanted to say. What he needed to say. He closed his eyes tightly, conjured every ounce of courage he had, and exhaled:
"Do you want to go to Harry's party?"
Another deep breath, a short one. And the words came out, untangling the knot in his throat:
"With me." He looked intently into Charlie's eyes, hoping that the boy would understand what he was really saying.
"Oh," Charlie replied. He seemed thrown off. Was he surprised?
"I...," Charlie said, unsure, "I don't know. It doesn't sound like my sort of thing."
"Please, come," Nick begged. Now that his ideas had become clearer, he knew he had to say this: "I want you to be there."
He hoped Charlie could understand what he couldn't, the meaning behind his words, the feeling behind the look in his eyes.
"Okay," Charlie whispered, half-defeated?, half-hopeful? Nick wasn't sure, but the other boy was grinning widely and his eyes were full of sparkles, and Nick couldn't stop himself from smiling back. And as Charlie went back to his books, blushing, Nick just couldn't take his eyes away from his friend, a warm feeling spreading through his chest, a soft electricity running through his skin.
He couldn't wait for Saturday to come.