Chapter Text
'Comment vous décririez-vous?'
'How would you describe yourself?' That has to be the hardest simple question of all time, and the first one his therapist ever asked. He often thinks about it. He knows what people describe him as, but he doesn't know if it's true. That's part of growing up, it's what his therapist said. "Growing up is getting to know yourself and looking for your identity, Charlie, and that takes time." Sometimes thinking about it keeps him occupied when stressed. It is reassuring to come up with good qualities about yourself, sometimes. Other times, it backfires.
He would like to think he's fun, and his friends laugh at least, but most people that say that they are funny are actually not… He likes music, and drums, he likes sleeping, he likes running because his brain secretes dopamine with exercise and because he likes the wind in his face. He's good at things, sometimes. He likes being good at things like anybody else does, but that's a bit obvious.
He also has dislikes. Multiple. He remembers this was actually an exercise in his French book of last year, which is really fitting right now.
A brief list of things Charlie doesn't like goes like this:
Cooking [verb. Cuisiner] (too many dirty dishes to clean)
Canned tuna fish [masc noun. Thon en conserve] (it's gross and has the texture of chewing wood. The name alone is gross).
Turkey [fem noun. Dinde] [masc noun. Dindon] (it's dry and gross. The name? Hilarious).
School [fem noun. l'école] (what is he? Twelve? Everybody hates school, period. self-explanatory).
Seats with no backrest [how does that even translate? siège sans something. Not happening] (he's gay and has no posture, that's the explanation)
The song David Guetta and Bebe Rexa put out, which is just the 'I'm Blue' song but minus the ironic lyrics that made it fun, and maximum annoying noises. [also not happening] (he may think he's annoying himself, but at least he'll never be as annoying as that damn song)
The rugby lads [garçons de rugby? Noun? Masc, plural?] (yes, all of them. Self-explanatory, also. "But Charlie, those are stereotypes" bla bla bla).
French. [Noun. français] (Of course he didn't say this in his exercise. He didn't even say any of these in the exercise, he doesn't remember what he said)
Charlie doesn't like French at all. He likes to listen to people speaking it, or used to, but he does NOT like French. Nouns have genders, adjectives have genders, some words have more than one accentuation apparently, and half the time when he tries to say anything he sounds like he's gagging or gonna be sick. He's really bad at it, but it won't stop him from learning every single grammatical rule and trying to be on top of that class.
Normally, Charlie wouldn't like being on top of his class. Whiny, whatever. Maybe he should be happy about it, but his therapist says expressing your negative feelings, even if they are annoying, is very important. He's gonna be whiny for once because he feels extremely frustrated with life and with himself right now.
So, he wouldn’t typically like being on top of the class.
There's a thing in fiction where the nerd protagonists always get bullied. Spiderman, Fairly OddParents, Stranger Things. You name it, the nerd ones are always the ones getting bullied. He feels like it makes no sense and he used to think people just made it up to victimise themselves in movies and be 'relatable', but apparently, it is true. Tale as old as time. It is literally so dumb.
He doesn't think he's really that smart, he thinks he's actually pretty dumb for someone who overthinks so much. It started just because he knew the capital cities of a couple of countries, the teacher asked about them in class, and he responded correctly. Apparently, that made him annoying to his peers. It escalated when it happened with classic literature, and the peak was with maths. He's good at maths, he just has to remember formulas and patterns and that's it, but people did not like that he was good at it and not them. It must have something to do, he thinks, with the way his teacher would always ask him and only him, even if someone else was raising their hand. He would always respond, though, because he likes being right.
Things didn't go much better when it was found out he is not straight. He has a whiteboard on his wall, and right there next to where he tapes his schedules he had a tiny space where counted the days until graduation for the entirety of year nine and half of year ten. It is no one's surprise that boy schools are filled with homophobia.
Interestingly enough, sometimes people grow out of being homophobic and realise that bullying the gay kid until he develops a lot of self-esteem issues, is not that fun after all!! And that it wastes a lot of energy. The bullying kind of stopped when they got older, and sometimes when it still happened other people stepped up to defend him, but they still wouldn't talk to him. It was like a general agreement to be just decent enough, but still not too decent to be involved with the gay one. And like that is how he became kind of known, as the gay one.
Charlie still doesn't know if it is 'good fame' or 'bad fame'. It just kind of is 'he's-the-only-gay-one fame', but people say 'hi' in the corridors. That's nice, he supposes. Totally not like an exhibition animal. Even if people seem to like him enough now and that he fits in, it's hard for him to trust them. He's only ever felt like he can trust four people: his sister, and his friends Tao, Elle, and Isaac. They make life feel a little lighter and put up with him so, so much.
Charlie wouldn't usually like being on top of his class, because he doesn't like being known only as the gay nerd, and he knows he's not really cool because of it; but listen, if you are on top of the class, you get certain privileges Charlie wouldn't have otherwise. Like the privilege of at least the teachers liking you, asking you to be part of the student council, and believing people will actually vote for you, and the privilege of feeling worthy of something for once, or even feeling superior. Here's where he recognizes he is a bit cynical. It feels good being the only one in his class that can answer that Nicaragua's capital city is Managua. It feels good knowing all about Julius Caesar. It feels good to ace every French grammatical rule. Logically, he knows he is absolutely not superior to anybody, quite the opposite. But… numbers don't lie, that's what people say. He has to be given that, at least. The numbers. He needs something to be worth it.
Is it fucked up? Yes. But you know what? If he can be better at something than the people that bullied him for years, he will take it. That's where the rugby team comes in all of this.
Tale. As. Old. As. Time. The sports team being homophobic assholes? What?!! Can you blame him?
Charlie finishes his extra French practice and hands it to his teacher just in time for Nick Nelson to hand out his. The teacher looks through it.
If Charlie had to say there is a leader of the rugby lad school social group, he would say Harry Greene. Nick Nelson, as captain of the team, has to be a close second with not as much 'what I say is what is done' social power, but definitely with the potential.
Nick has the reputation of being nice, but Charlie has never trusted that. The more people like someone, the easier it is for that person to manipulate them. He doesn't care if he's tall, muscular, or good-looking and if he knows how to talk his way up into people's minds, he won't fall for it. He falls too easily but he won't fall for it. He's learned a lesson or two about what people say and what people are actually like. He'll give him 'not as loudly bad as the other ones', but there is where the benefit of the doubt ends. To not be explicitly homophobic doesn't make someone likeable. Having the potential to do something and still doing nothing is just as bad. Nick's like a tasteless 0.7 on a scale that goes up to five in Charlie's rating list that he has just made up. Charlie Spring's Choice Awards, everyone! As if they are important. He'll give you a little friendship bracelet at the door if you are nominated.
"Great as always, Charlie!" his Teacher says. "8.5 for material that is not even of your level!"
But that means nothing to him when it is Nick Nelson's turn: "9.5"
This goes a long way.
Nick has more followers than Charlie.
Charlie can run faster (that's a flex when you're competing against a supposed athlete).
Charlie is better at maths.
Nick's essays are better in general.
Nick has memorised more elements in the periodic table.
Charlie can recognize more constellations in a sky map (that one was kind of fun to win).
This French practice is probably Charlie's biggest failure because that means Nick wins their silly little competition, and he has to see Nick's smug smile and accept defeat. It means it's not fun anymore. This means he can't say he's better. This means a punch to his stupid ego.
"Are you satisfied yet?" Nick says as he brings his hand forward for Charlie to shake. Charlie doesn't respond. He just shakes his hand, stares into his eyes, and turns around to leave.
He's a bad loser, alright, that he does know. He's not proud of it.
Nick doesn't even know what he's doing there. The part of him that hears about emotional intelligence on the internet all the time wants to tell him he should grow up, but the petty part of him is too prideful, and not in a good way with parades and rainbows and encouragement. At least extra practice is always good. His teachers have said his grades are better and his mother congratulated him, so it's not all bad, but still.
He doesn't remember exactly when it all started or what he did, but Charlie's been on his radar for a while, and all that while has been unpleasant, no matter how much Nick's tried to make Charlie like him, or at least not hate him as much. If he says 'hi', he receives a cold shoulder. If he talks to him, everything turns into a competition. Nick's had enough of that, his friend group is all competitions already. From who can tie his shoes faster or who made the most scores, to who's talked to the most girls that week. Every day, every waking hour. He's had enough. It was fun when they were fourteen, but not anymore. He just wants to go through school with peace of mind.
Then why does he keep agreeing and showing up to Charlie Spring's little intellectual competition of seeing who has a bigger prick? He guesses it was fun at times, competing, but now it just seems stupid. It always has been kind of pointless and childish, actually. It's the last day of school before summer break, he should be enjoying himself instead of doing extra school practice in a language he already knows how to speak… although grammar is a little harder.
Nick says goodbye to his poor French teacher that just wants her students to do ok in French and heads off to the shopping mall. The food part, specifically. It is a ten-minute walk away from school. Everything is way too close in this little town for his liking.
"So, how did it go with King Charles?" His friend Darcy says. They are waiting for Tara, Darcy's girlfriend. Nick slides into the seat that is in front of Darcy and drops his head on the table. That's gonna make him break out with acne if Darcy didn't clean the surface, which they probably didn't.
Darcy must be one of his best friends ever. He can talk to her and she doesn't find that his ‘going on and on about a specific topic’ is annoying, like his other friends do. She is also not afraid to say her opinions. This is very important for Nick, sometimes he needs an outsider's opinion and his friends from rugby usually just say 'do what you must,' which is very much not helpful when he needs advice, even if he appreciates them.
"I won," he says. Darcy looks at him very intensely. He can't see it, but he can feel it.
"And..?" There it is.
"And nothing," he sighs.
"Come on! Be happy about it, at least!"
"I can't because I feel stupid," he says, muffled in his arms. "The whole thing is stupid, we aren't even in the same year, of course, I'm gonna win most things. I don't get him, what's his deal?" Darcy sits straighter in their seat.
"Is this gonna be one of those psychological dissections? Because I love those" Nick tilts his head and looks at them. "What? Just continue" he hides his face again, then.
"I don't even remember when I agreed to this shit."
"I think I do," Darcy says "he made fun of you for being bad at maths one day in an extracurricular activity… sports day?" Ah, yes. Sports day, two years ago when they had the activities before classes ended and Nick's teacher had the bright idea to ask for homework, and Nick had almost all day free, so he did it right there and everybody had something to say. From 'Haha, that's so funny' to 'wow, you really are very bad at this' because nobody ever leaves him alone when he actually needs it. But was that really how it started? Hard to tell. "And then you went on about how different people have different abilities, and then one thing leads to the other." And then the scores and extra practices every few months and shoving it into the other's face. Charlie is generally rude, but he is rude in a passive-aggressive way. Sharp remarks, silence. That is kind of more infuriating than straight-up being told to fuck right off. He doesn't know if he could handle it, though, that forward hate.
Probably yes.
"Thanks for reminding me he's a prick"
"But he was right, you are kind of bad at maths"
"Who's side are you on, Darcy?"
"Yours, yours!"
He sighs. He can hear his mother saying ‘why are you sighing so much? You are gonna deflate’
"I guess I just go with it," he continues, "but it's less… satisfying… than I thought it would be. I don't even want to use my bragging rights.”
“Hey!” Darcy exclaims. Nick looks up and then looks at where she’s pointing. “Speaking of the devil”
Yes, this town is too small. He can see that behind the decorative plants next to their table, Charlie Spring is conveniently standing right there in the infinite McDonald’s line with three of his friends. Nick immediately looks away.
“We summoned him,” he says and notices how Darcy is still looking. “Stop staring at him! You’re gonna make him come over here”
"He wouldn’t and you know it. He avoids you like the plague"
"With no reason, by the way"
"It's 'cause you're annoying"
"Fuck off"
Nick sighs again. He's gonna deflate, but he doesn't have enough energy to think about Charlie Spring…
But, the worst thing is that he has to hear about people telling him he's not even that bad, that he's nice. Maybe Nick just has a different idea of 'nice' than other people. Maybe Charlie doesn't find him particularly worthy of niceness, which is even more infuriating. A girl once overheard him say they don't really get along and proceeded to call him out for being homophobic. If anything, Nick thinks it is more homophobic to think gay people can't be annoying, too. It reminded him of Harry. Harry is the other extreme, he loves the fact that Charlie doesn't like Nick. He says it keeps him away from the group and Nick may not like Charlie, but he likes it even less when Harry is being a prick, which generously is three-quarters of the time. He doesn't like being compared to him. He doesn't think he's the best person out there, but he has personal standards.
"Y'know…" Darcy starts. Nick knows that tone of voice, she's gonna say something either controversial or something nuts "If he wasn't gay, and I wasn't gay, I'd say he's cute" She might as well say she's gonna murder the whole parliament, kill herself, and reincarnate as a goose. "what? Don't look at me like that! I'm a lesbian, not blind. He's the male equivalent of brunette Carly Rae Jepsen, you know it"
"You have no taste in men, clearly"
"Worse than yours? Ok, Mr. 'Oh my God, Darcy, have you seen Benedict Cumberbatch's last movie?!'"
"Shut up, lesbian. He's hot"
"Wait, say that again, I wasn't recording" she takes her phone out and shoves it in Nick's face while they both laugh.
"Lesbians have no rights"
"And bisexuality doesn't even exist" this is another thing he can't talk about with anyone other than Tara and Darcy. Call him a coward, he's not telling Harry if he can help it. And he can help it, he's as single as an oyster at the bottom of the sea.
"Touché" Nick takes Darcy's phone. It is turned off.
"Hey!" Nick puts it in his pocket. "Hate crime"
"Soon" Darcy steps up and basically throws her entire upper body on the table and stretches her arm to reach Nick's pocket "what are you doing?!" Darcy takes her phone back and grins "you are mad, people saw that"
"Let 'em watch, baby, let 'em watch"
"You do feel like being hate-crimed, it seems like" he looks at the tall ceiling with desperation "to respond to your uninformed affirmation earlier, then... I, as a bisexual, say he is cute until he opens his mouth. Happy?"
"Not actually, I already knew he's your type."
"I don't have a type"
"Yes you do, I won that point a while back."
Nick frowns "What point?"
"Tara and I have a competition of who can guess more of people's types, and I got you with Zoe Deschanel, Carly and Mr Cucumber Batch, and now him. I think I'm good at it. By the way, did you know that Finn from the school band likes Becky Allen?" Darcy gets into 'gossip mode', which is hunching down and whispering. "The one with purple hair? We got it out of him in practice last week and I feel like you would know more about it, given that you are on the team with him"
"...You guys are weird"
"Shut up, we're goals and we were bored. You can't tell anybody I told you that about Finn, though"
"Everybody likes Becky Allen, Darcy. It's no news"
Darcy then puts their hand in a fist pretending like it is a mic, brings it to Nick's face, and puts a news reporter's voice on.
"Got something to confess, Nelson?"
"I am not giving in to your weird game"
"Confessss"
"No!" He laughs.
"I need the points! Come on!"
Nick is about to say something else when he hears a laugh at his back and sees Darcy staring in that direction, so he turns around, too.
Charlie is still in line with his friends. One of them, the shorter Asian guy, is laughing while bending his knees and looks like he needs medical assistance or else he's gonna pass out because of breath loss. The other two, a black girl and a white chubby guy that is shorter than both Charlie and the girl, are laughing as well. Charlie is balancing an empty food tray on his head, and the girl puts an empty paper cup on top of it. The chubby guy is accommodating it so it doesn't fall every once in a while.
"Oh my God she's so quirky, I love her" the chubby guy mocks him and Charlie slaps his shoulder, but the tray doesn't fall.
"No but how does it literally not move?" The girl says as she pushes the food tray down a little.
"I think it's the hair," the white guy says.
"It is big," the girl says back.
The Asian guy seems to be breathing more stably now. He says: "it's full of secrets" and bursts out laughing again.
"Tao!" The girl says. "Is that a Mean Girls reference?!"
"It's a masterpiece!!"
Charlie laughs and that makes the tray fall from his head. They then proceed to laugh some more: about how they'll have to get a new tray, about how Charlie's curls are flat now, about Tao's strict taste in movies.
"Why do you guys even hate each other so much?" Nick jumps on his seat. He forgot for a second that Darcy was still there. Darcy's looking at him when she says that, but then looks over at the other friend group as she continues almost whispering. It's rare to hear Darcy talk in such a soft voice. "I think you would get along just fine if you gave him the opportunity."
Nick already looks like a kettle with how much he is sighing. "But I have, that's the problem! He doesn't like me no matter what I say or do. He's like a safe box I can't crack"
Darcy huffs from her nose. "I guess it has no point, then"
"Yeah, but why? That's the deal"
"There doesn't have to be a reason," Darcy leans on the table and Nick follows. "Sometimes people don't like other people and that's it"
"Just like that?"
"Yeah"
"Unprovoked?"
"Well, Nick, I can't possibly know for certain if this one, in particular, is unprovoked, but it seems like"
Nick crosses his arms and leans back. He would very much like an answer. He dislikes Spring because Spring dislikes him, but why does he?
"Do you think I'm maybe too loud and scare people off?"
"Nick!"
"What?"
"Don't think too much about it!! And if you are loud, what am I? The apocalypse trumpets?"
But… What did he do? Is it just the 'competition'? Seems too dumb for that to be it. If it were for him, it wouldn't be like that. He doesn't particularly like not liking people, and not being liked. It stresses him out a bit.
Nick closes his eyes. If he tries to remember when he started noticing Charlie he would probably say the end of year nine in a corridor. He had caught him staring with big blue eyes, and tried to wave back, but he had already left. He then started wondering about that and it lasted a month before he completely forgot for a year. And then a year later the same punching curiosity and magnet-like pull lasted the incredible amount of the eight minutes between when he saw him in the cafeteria, remembered his existence, got out of god knows where the courage to go talk to him and was silently given 'the look' before Charlie just got up from the table, grabbed his things, and walked off.
"Nick," Darcy says. Nick looks up from where he had his gaze glued to, a little stain on the table. "I'm sorry"
Nick frowns. "Why for?"
"I shouldn't have poked you about it, now you're sad. Seeing you sad is like seeing a kicked puppy"
Nick slaps her shoulder and laughs, and then smiles at her and brings his hand to lie on the table, palm facing the ceiling. Darcy then brings hers and grabs his hand.
"It's ok, and I guess you are right. It's just a bit frustrating, that's all."
"This is not supposed to be a depressing evening, Nick"
"It's not depressing! I just… I guess I was kind of bummed for a while because of it, but it's alright now."
Darcy looks at him with a look he can't quite decipher before they grin devilishly. "I won't tell Tara you find him to be good-looking, then"
Nick feels a shiver down his spine but he ignores it and gasps jokingly. "You're horrible" and he takes Darcy's phone again and Darcy screams.
"Hey!!" Nick wonders how many people are staring at them right now. Darcy takes their phone from the air by stepping on the chair to reach Nick's stretched-out arm. "I won't tell her, I won't tell her! It was just a silly joke anyway. This is not like in primary school, people don't hate you because they like you" Darcy says.
"Did someone ever steal your toys to get your attention?" Nick says and Darcy grins.
"No, I was that kid"
Darcy's hand leaves Nick's hand to look at their phone. By Darcy's sudden look of grimness, Tara is not getting there for a while. She was supposed to go shopping with her mum.
This is getting too awkward, and Nick is second guessing having told Darcy that, it is kind of embarrassing. He shakes his head. Time to change the topic.
"Anyway, do you know what happened in practice?"
"I swear you get here every week with a different story and each one is worse than the previous one" Nick laughs because he knows it is true. Maybe he shouldn't be laughing. Darcy leans forward in the 'gossip mode' position again. This feels infinitely lighter.
"We were in a practice match against one another as usual. And Harry doesn’t ever get that we are actually a team and not rivals and takes the pretending too far. So, long story short, he started picking on Robert and presumably ended up with a broken nose…"
Darcy closes their eyes and brings a hand to their nose. "Ouch"
"I kind of feel bad for him, but it's been piling up"
"How so?"
"You know, he likes to pick on people, but I think he thinks he's funnier than he actually is, which then turns to annoying, and then to rude"
"I feel called out"
Nick teasingly pushes Darcy's shoulder from across the table. "At least you are aware of your annoyingness. That's not a word"
Darcy sticks out their tongue in mockery. Then she sits better on her chair and looks past Nick again, past the decorative plants. "Speaking of the devil"
"God no" Nick whispers as he brings his head down and tries to look back as he can. He freezes in his place when he hears Darcy laughing.
"I’m kidding"
"I hate you" instead of getting back up, he lies out his arms entirely and brings his head even lower until his forehead and nose are against the table again. He then breathes out. "That would be worse, I actually can’t stand a minute longer with him than I absolutely have to in school."
"You are such a hater today, Saint Nicholas."
Nick laughs. He laughs but maybe he shouldn't be laughing, because it's choking. Being mates with Harry is choking him slowly and leaving marks. He needs to change the subject like he always does. Ignore it, it's for the better, for the peace.
"Now that we are gossiping and crossing meddling lines, who are Finn's other crushes?"
"With purple hair? Purple hair Barbie from that one movie about a princess and a pop star, Raven, and those purple minions from Despicable Me."
"Fuck you, you are making that up."
"I am, in fact, making it up"
A brief history of Truham Grammar School of Boys' sports day. By Charles F. Spring, 2023.
Year seven, 2019: it's a blur, being twelve is a nightmare.
Year eight, 2020: he ran the 200m dash for the first time. He lost, obviously.
Year nine, 2021: running in shorts suddenly becomes even more awkward when you are gay, people know it, and they stare at you like they expect you to fail so that they can make fun of you and your chicken legs. He spent the whole evening being grumpy and wanting to cry and doesn't remember much else.
Year ten, 2022: he won the 200m dash. With 'won' he means he was given a fake medal and a chocolate bar that stayed on his desk for a week until he finally opened it and shared it with his sister. The chocolate bar had already been melted and set so many times that when they opened it it had the wrinkles of the package shaped into it.
Year eleven, 2023: the teachers are mad, man.
End of the report to absolutely no one except himself as a reminder of why he's gonna do what he's gonna do.
Sports day is usually a bit boring. Ok, they get to do different activities in the schoolyard and the different courts and fields, and the Truham Grammar School and Higgs School are once again reunited, which means they can see their friends. But still, most of the student population agrees that going on an excursion for Sports Day is a far more fun experience. How responsible is it to take 200 teenagers to a forest? That's up for discussion with the council, but it is more entertaining for sure. They have different activities like jumping the rope, a piñata, yoga classes, dance classes, every sport they usually do, and at the end a Rugby match.
Charlie is looking for some water bottles in the boot of his gym teacher's car. Mrs Singh asked him to go get it, and he can't really refuse, not since he's running for head boy and it would be super awkward if he just turned her down and then had to host some sports activity. He is just picking the pack up but he's not staying. As soon as he gets the bottles to the little cabin everything is being stored in, he's getting away.
He looked up the place they are at in Google Earth because he wanted to know how big it is, and in the process, he found pictures of a beautiful landscape that can be seen at a specific observation point. It is kind of a small cliff that, if the people in the reviews are telling the truth, was formed because of an earthquake eight years ago, which took down all the trees that were there, revealing the lookout of the green and brownish yellow of the whole woodland and where it meets the blue summer sky. It would be absolutely gorgeous in autumn.
"Look at the bootlicker of Spring. He literally does nothing else than go around the teachers like a lap dog." This is heard from the distance, just loud enough so that the sound of his steps on the dirt doesn't cover it.
"Do you think he serves the function of a 'lapdog' for them, too? Or just on the knees?" That's Greene. Who would have thought? Wait until he gives his 'head boy' speech. It's gonna be thrilling.
Anything is better than this.
On Nick's part, he loves it here. He took about a million photos on the bus ride and he would still be doing the same, but he decided to just leave his phone in his bag and enjoy nature like the grandpa he is at heart. He feels like a light little deer running around the woods. Who said it is a little kid activity? No one. It could be the coming-of-age crisis where you have to start looking for university options and miss the simple days speaking to him but not necessarily. He just knows that the air feels like having new lungs. And everybody asking what he wants to study in uni has had him on his last nerves for a while, touching a bit of grass and breathing fresh air is not bad for anyone at all.
Maybe it is the coming-of-age crisis, just a bit.
"Nick, the rope!" One of his teammates says. Nick throws it at them and they throw the rope through a tree branch. When that end is touching the floor, Nick takes it and ties the little round piñata he has in his hands to it. It is the size of two basketballs, like a very big balloon, and it is covered in paper with the warm colours of the sunset.
"Beautiful," he says, happy with his work. There's sweat on his forehead already. The rugby team has a match later, but since they will be basically free all day, the teachers asked them for help with a couple of things, including the piñata. Nick can't wait to eat so much sugar that he feels like throwing his whole stomach up. Sports day means a healthy lifestyle!
"And then he told her he liked her hair, and she said, and I quote, 'thanks, it's fake' and took a bite off her sandwich, and then he practically ran away" he hears the team laughing at poor Finn and grins. The rumours were true, Darcy is a menace. He already knew that.
"She probably hears that all the time, you'll have to come up with something else," one of them says.
"You're kidding, I'm never showing my face again" Finn responds.
"I say go talk to her" Nick walks into the conversation. He puts one arm around Finn's shoulder and gives him a couple of pats of support "I believe in you and your personality to not scare her right off"
"That makes one of us, cap."
"Come on! Chin up! If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out, but give it a go!"
"Not just that. We're in the woods, get lost a couple of hundred feet for a while and nobody is gonna find you two" both Nick and Fin stare at the teammate that said that like he just grew a horn on his forehead.
"And I thought I was delusional, listen to this guy," Finn says. They laugh like that for a minute as they keep talking about Becky Allen and why Finn likes her. It is nice this way, Nick thinks, it is fun.
If he’s honest, he actually feels like he didn’t really do much in his adolescence. He made some friends and went to a couple of parties, but beyond that, it was kinda boring, and unproductive. His days circle around going to school and then going to practice. Over and over, back and forth. Maybe watching so many movies about people his age saving the world did something to him.
"Becky Allen?" They are interrupted by Harry, who's coming from the direction of the cabin, along with some other guys. Nick's head turns from their direction to the ground in a second. "Isn't she, like, friends with Spring's sister? She looks equally as freaky as him. Freaks always come in pairs, right, Nick?" Suddenly the field and fresh air aren't doing it anymore. How did he insult three people in one go? Or is it four? Nick takes his eyes off the ground.
"What am I gonna know?" Nick says while watching his tone so that he doesn't sound as defensive as he feels. For this, he says it with a slight giggle.
"Since you two spend so much time together, I thought you would be able to tell us first-hand. He's kind of obsessed with you, do you think he has a crush on you?" Nick's arms fall from Finn's shoulders instinctively and his flight or fight reflex has been activated. Of course, he's not gonna fight, though. He walks past everybody and in Harry's direction, trying to look as calm as he can. When he's next to Harry he doesn't stop, but he pats him on the shoulder without looking at him.
"I'm sure he has better taste than that." Is what he says, and he walks straight in the cabin's direction as he hears a couple of spare laughs. It wasn't even funny. He raises a hand without facing his mates, "I'm famished, I'll be right back"
He's tired. It would be hypocritical of Nick to say he's never talked badly about people, but Harry just seems to take every opportunity, and if he doesn't find one, he does it out of the blue.
Maybe he hates it here, after all, just a little.
His feet step on a fallen wood stick and it breaks making a cracking sound, which he feels all around.
Charlie thinks to himself as he walks through the woods: what is it with rugby? In theory, it seems fun enough. Running around, catching a ball, throwing people off to the ground, and rolling in the mud like dogs. They should let enough negative energy out. Maybe it is all the head-hitting. How do they have the energy to be jerks, still? Isn't it tiring? Because it is tiring him.
He fights a lot with a lot of people, like with his parents, but the truth is that he really appreciates the silent swing of the tree leaves, and part of him wants it to be like that all the time. The air goes through him and gets lost in the immensity of the woods. It is relaxing how he feels like he is so little here.
Charlie has always felt like he takes up too much space, in general. In his house when he gets home and goes straight to his room. In his family reunions when he never has anything to add. In school when kids prefer other partners for projects. In the bus when he has to basically get in a foetal position to fit his knees between the seats. That's why he likes the woods so much. He doesn't get to go to one very often, but he loves it. He feels like no one is watching, or judging.
He feels so little and unimportant like he has no pressure on him, and it doesn't make him feel anxious, it makes him feel light. It’s better than having to be in a jogging competition with half the school as a spectator. They would probably be thinking about how he doesn't look like he runs, or that the way his legs move is weird, or that his hair gets too messy, or that he’s too covered in sweat, or too dry, maybe. Or anything, they judge for anything. That’s why he decided to skip the activity he signed up for. Trekking is a sport on its own, anyway. It’s not like he is skipping to be a lazyass.
He gets to the viewpoint and sits on the fallen log that is in front of the cliff and right next to a tree. And he closes his eyes. It is beautiful.
Having friends is having a circle of comfort and trust. It is like having a cushion waiting for you when you fall. Being friends with Harry Greene is like knowing you are on the edge of a flaming building, where you know you don't wanna fall, but you can't go the other way either. It's like when growing up his cousins learned how to play chess, but didn't want to explain the rules to him and he would have to find out on the go while losing every single piece. It's like when his brother and he would fight all the time when his older brother turned fourteen, and everything Nick said was wrong or turned against him.
Nick takes a bite of his sandwich and looks at it. It's a jam sandwich, can't go wrong with that one. He takes another bite and looks around. There are quite a lot of people, probably the ones waiting for their activities to start. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he recognises two of Charlie's friends: the girl and the short guy. They are talking very passionately about something. Near them, but not engaging, is the chubby guy. He's very soundly reading a book while sitting on a chair. Over there near the sink is Brandon from his PE class with his girlfriend Marissa. Sitting on plastic chairs he sees the famous Becky Allen and Tori Spring. Becky's talking and giving her a volleyball ball to hold while she bends over the chair to tie her shoelaces. Her long purple hair gets in the way and she tucks it behind her ear. Charlie's sister looks just like him –or the other way around since she's older–, but she looks more intimidating. He sees Darcy and Tara sitting at a table and talking very softly. He would go with them, but he doesn't want to be a third wheel all the time. It must be annoying if your friend keeps interrupting you because he doesn't want to be with his other friends. He takes another bite of the sandwich.
He could go talk to any of those people, but he doesn't want to bother, this is why he goes back to the piñata spot as soon as he takes the final bite off his sandwich. He feels the sandwich creeping up his oesophagus and getting stuck there when he arrives. There's the warm-coloured paper on the floor, and a rope sloppily wound on itself is lying on the ground. Harry is laughing and so is most of the team. Another part of the team is just talking normally a few feet away. They slowly turn around to lay their gazes on Nick, and Nick stares at the floor again. About ten steps from him are the rest of the piñata, pierced and ripped open.
"Was that necessary?" He says. Harry laughs.
"It's made to be broken, anyway"
"Yeah, but the whole point is to break it open in a group and have sweets fall from it and collect it. It's made to have fun"
"It was fun," Harry says. "Right?" The ones that were in the circle with Harry nod and affirm. Nick exhales slowly and closes his eyes for a second too long. That was his mistake.
"Ok," he says.
"Why are you upset? It's literally just cardboard, stop being dramatic"
And it is. It is just cardboard. But it was cardboard that was supposed to be fun for everyone. He watched it drying in the art room when he walked near the window a week ago. He watched Mr Ajayi, the art teacher, getting out of his car with it earlier in the morning. And he watched the year sevens getting excited when he brought out a bag of sweets. It was gonna be fun for everyone.
"I'm not upset," he says. He squats down, takes a little piece of thin paper, and he lets it fall again, swirling trough the air like leaves in October. There are technically several piñatas for different years, and it is technically just cardboard, but it hurts for some reason. He then steps up, turns around, and begins to walk to the cabin.
"Alright then, Saint Nicholas" Nick blinks aggressively again, but this time nobody can see it.
"I'm gonna go take a piss"
"Why don't you just go in the woods?" Harry says, mocking tone of voice.
"The cabin is close," Nick responds.
"But you were there just a minute ago"
"Yeah, but the cabin is close"
"Why didn't you go earlier?"
"I didn't have to then"
"Just go over there." He points to the trees, but Nick doesn't see them "Or what? Are you scared of us?"
"What? You wanna see my dick that badly?!" Nick says, but he doesn't turn to see Harry because he regrets it immediately. There are loud laughs behind him as he keeps walking.
"Harry, got something to tell us?" Someone says, and a repetition of phrases that mean the same gets loud.
He's regretting this, he really is.
"Nick!" Finn says a little out of breath because of how much he's been laughing "Can you bring a bag of crisps? Or a few, if they are small."
Nick brings his arm up, still not turning around, and gives them a thumbs up.