Work Text:
It starts with a dark mop of curls sticking out of the edge of the table in the room, right in the corner where you painted a tree with your very first class of students, a couple of years ago now.
You went into teaching because of your art teacher, a kind old lady, who you somehow always felt a kindredship with. She was stern but kind, always pointing out the way you had a knack for creativity, and even if it didn’t always come out as wanted (clay was never your favourite instrument) she always quipped that beauty was in the creation, not the product!
Looking back on it, it might’ve had something to do with her rainbow lanyard.
But, as it maybe always does, it starts with a kid in a classroom. Especially one they should be running out from at break time. Instead, Charlie Spring is sitting there, bunched up, balancing his lunch box on his knees; eyes big when he sees you coming in and all you can see is you.
You, at fourteen; fifteen; and even sixteen in revolving doors of empty classrooms with your lunch.
Sorry, sir, I’ll leave, I’m sorry! Charlie scrambles, kicking his phone across the room when trying to stand up. It’s entirely too quiet for a minute.
You pick up his phone and summon the sweet smile that you reserve just for certain students who need it.
No worries you say, putting his phone on your desk, nothing to say sorry about. Feel free to join me in my break, it does get rather lonely in here on your own, grading piles of the year 8 works. I’ll need the company.
Charlie looks stunned, but your smile works because he copies it slowly. Thanks, sir.
And that’s how it starts.
---
In the beginning, Charlie doesn’t come often, and sometimes you only find him at the end of break coming out of the room. You talk a little, about how his subjects are going, and what he’s picked for his GCSEs. You remind him of the work he made in your class, still hanging on the walls. He nibbles on his lunch.
There’s a kinship you feel, one you felt before, with Charlie. He’s not told you yet why.
One day, you walk into the room and you find Charlie with another student, in fact, your top student. She recently asked you to call her Elle. It means bright light.
Quite the appropriate name for her.
She’s often in there lately, working on her landscape assignment. She really wants to nail it - but even though you were taught you cannot be biased towards favourite students, maybe, just maybe, that particular teaching was one you didn’t really listen to. Oops. Elle’s going to nail it.
Elle’s showing Charlie her landscape, pushing her paintbrush in his hands, asking him to brush the edge of the painting for her as the paper’s too big, I can’t reach from here . Nonsensical, you think, whilst putting down your bag and preparing for next class, but Charlie’s panicked. Oh no, no no no, I’ll make it worse.
Nonsense , says Elle, you can do it. And otherwise I’ll just paint over it. It’ll be fine.
Okay , says Charlie, and he does.
Look at that, that’s perfectly adequate! Elle smiles, and Charlie chuckles.
The bell rings, and they quickly pack their bags and shuffle out of the door.
Charlie’s eyes, red-rimmed, with tracks of tears on his cheeks. You don’t ask him then.
---
He starts coming by weekly.
It turns daily.
Sometimes he’s even there even when you’re not.
---
On the eighth day of finding him in the tree corner, you decide it has been enough. Asking how he’s doing feels fairly empty at this point. You already know.
There’s a certain boundary as a teacher that you don’t want to cross, but it’s been difficult to see what’s on the right side of the line and what delves beyond. You feel it’s certainly not your place to push, but seeing the curls sticking out once again makes you feel a little frustrated.
Not at him. Never at him.
Rather at the reason why he might be here; one you were afraid to admit was already in the back of your mind.
So now you ask him. Emotions high on his face, and for a moment you see him back on the first day you saw him there. So you get close to him, kneeling down to make you level, to make sure he’s not in a bad place, and he can talk to you. You’ll listen.
Charlie swallows harshly and breathes deeply. Takes a look at the pin on your shirt.
And talks.
---
You perhaps shouldn’t, but you cry when you get home. You feel stupid, for not realising and acting earlier. Maybe a lot of this could’ve been prevented. It’s something that you told yourself was one of the main things you wanted to pursue in education; to make kids feel seen, and offer them safety.
It kind of feels like you failed with him.
---
The next morning, you inform the head of school about the situation. And to his credit, he acts immediately, wanting to call in the students in question. But you remember Charlie’s face when he left your room, and you ask whether you could take care of it yourself.
He permits you to.
So you start to work, you call in the students with their parents. And you explain, and you talk. You write a letter to send out with the anti bullying flyers that the head master has made available to send towards parents of students in the upper years. It’s maybe a bit more personal than you would’ve expected to be.
But there’s a level of anger that runs through you in this. And maybe it’s at yourself. But mostly, maybe, at your own past bullies. You were never able to tell them. Feels like the time is now.
---
Charlie’s parents didn’t know of it. You sit next to Charlie when you help him tell them.
He’s not looking at them; tense as he is. He relaxes a bit when you put your hand on his shoulder.
---
Tell me if they come to you again, Charlie, I will act as soon as possible. I can promise you that.
Thanks, sir. I’ll try.
---
He stops coming by for a while. You walk a few supervisions of breaks with Priya, and see Charlie sitting with his friends at the picnic table. Timid, but seemingly relaxed.
You hope, so badly, it will be smooth sailing for now.
---
The next half a year, the only times you see Charlie is when he’s spending some time with Elle in your room.
There’s a small nod, and a how are you ? and a smile.
But it’s good. That’s all he needs. And you can only be glad.
---
In January, Elle leaves, and Charlie reappears.
Seemingly, in a better state and no he’s not hiding; and you do trust him when he says everything is fine at the moment.
He’s talking about a boyfriend, and while it results in a classic rendition of this boy is closeted and doesn’t want to be seen in public with me , there’s a possibility for a little tease. It feels lighter, this stuff, maybe a little more regular teenager troubles than you’ve seen with Charlie before.
It’s always a balance you need to maintain as teacher; to support, but not to forget your place in the relationship with students. But it’s touching, on a level of gay kid to gay teacher, that he asks you, in particular, and you do understand why he does. Maybe, in some way, you would have wished for someone when you were his age too. So you give him earnest advice.
And hope he’ll reach out to his friends too.
---
A few weeks later, Charlie confronts you out of the blue, with yet another crush on the horizon and honestly, it is a little difficult to stop the laugh coming out of you. This kid, so open towards love and he doesn’t shove it away. He’s got such a fire to him and you think he doesn’t even realise it.
I just repressed it and suffered.
That doesn’t sound very healthy!
Momentarily your sanity lapses and you forget the reason you entered education as a career again. Teenagers.
Nevertheless, Charlie walks out with a snappy he’s a really good friend! and it’s all going to be alright. You know it. He’s got it.
---
One day, you’re not surprised by another Charlie arrival, rather, a kind voice makes you look up.
Sorry, sir. Charlie Spring asked me to wait here for him? Is that alright?
At first, you’re curious, but the connection between Charlie Spring and random boy who looks like an athlete does cause you to look upon the boy with a bit of a side eye. You cannot have favourites. Charlie’s not a favourite. He’s not.
Okay. He is.
The boy seems scared, but once you nod your approval, he turns towards the tree corner.
You meet Charlie on your way out, and you cannot keep your curiosity for yourself this time. And you notice him swiftly not really responding to your question, and truly - that’s rather fair; careful not to out anyone.
It surprises you how different it all is nowadays. You would’ve never found two, not even one, other boys like you in secondary school - they all came in uni, and you only came out after secondary school too.
It makes you envious, just a little. But that’s okay. You’ll find someone, you know it.
Priya texts you right that moment, telling you’re late for rounds. Shoot !
---
Hey, do you know who that guy is sitting next to Charlie there?
Nathan. Really? I know you never come to rugby matches out of some weird artsy principle, but that’s Nick Nelson. He’s my captain.
Oh, alright.
Why do you ask?
No reason. Just wondered.
---
She’s right though, out of principle you tend not to go to the rugby matches if you can help it. Priya thinks it’s out of some weird creative person grudge.
You don’t have the heart to tell her the rugby lads at your school made your life hell.
But on sports’ day you can’t really avoid them; you’re meant to be supervising. Priya needs your help. But no one told you you needed to be there before the game actually starts. So you do what you always do on sports day: you go to your classroom to clean.
It’s actually always a rather nice day to do so, no kids coming in; you finally being able to clean up the glue mountain some year 9-er decided needed to be added to the table.
This time, however, your peace is abruptly disturbed by Charlie coming in, once again. He’s been coming in a lot recently, for lunch.
And internally, there’s a little frustration; he’s coming in again, isolating himself again, once again not talking to anyone. You wish he could see there’s so many around him who would love to help, you’ve seen him sitting around with your student Tao and the year 10 called Isaac, and Elle is not the kind of person to ignore someone asking for help even if she's not physically at school anymore.
Charlie’s letting others make himself disappear. And it’s so frustrating, because it hurts. Because that was you. Making yourself smaller and tinier and non-existent if you could. And it took you long, too long, to find yourself; make yourself bigger; make yourself matter.
Maybe with a little tough love, you leave him in the room to make a choice.
Don’t let anyone make you disappear, Charlie.
---
And he doesn’t.
Last you see of him, he walks out, and the boy in the classroom you’ve seen before, you remember his kind voice, takes his hand and pulls him away.
Ah . This must be the really good friend.
Good on you, Charlie. Look at how strong you are. Nick must be inspired too.
---
Over the next few months, you keep seeing them pop up. It’s the nature of being queer, you think, that once you know just a little more of someone, you’ll see everything.
Nick walking Charlie to the bus stop at the end of the day. Charlie walking back to their lunch table, giving Nick a can of Fanta. Charlie leaving a room, before a few seconds later Nick emerging to leave the same room.
It’s kind of hilarious, actually. They must think they are rather slick. Although you suppose they might be, because you’re not hearing the gossips going round the students. You’ve programmed yourself to be a bit more aware of them since the bullying last year.
But the rumour mill is quiet so far. It’s always all or nothing with teenagers.
---
Charlie doesn’t show himself in your classroom anymore.
To be honest, you’ve been kind of busy anyway. During a teacher’s day where all the students were off, Youssef Farouk introduced himself to you. He started this year at Truham, after having been at Higgs for a while.
You haven’t felt butterflies like this in ages.
---
In Paris, city of love, everything runs amok, as it tends to do during class trips. There’s an awkward moment with Nick and Ben Hope, but luckily you don’t have to intervene because Youssef has the quick wit that you as a teacher sometimes feel you miss.
One moment, however, it all seems like it’s going fine.
The next, Charlie Spring is on the floor of the Louvre.
You help him up with Nick, letting his friends know they shouldn’t crowd him too much, that you’ll take him to take a seat in the café.
He hasn’t eaten, he says. Youssef runs off to get something.
Nick’s face shows his worry, entirely focused on Charlie, and the concern touches you a lot, because Charlie deserves someone like that; someone who is fully in it, for him. Someone to trust.
So after giving him the options to stay in, and Youssef giving him something to eat, you feel okay with leaving him with Nick.
You can see it. Charlie’s safe with him.
---
After Paris, your head's rather in chaos.
Through the grapevine of year 9-ers in class you hear that it is official: the rugby captain is dating a boy from year 10 - he said so during a game of Truth or Dare during the Paris trip. There’s snickers, and chuckles, and off-hand comments which you quickly shut down.
If you can help it, you will shut down anyone you hear making any comment against them. It feels like redemption a bit, for younger you. But you don’t always have to; you hear one of the older year 9’s calling out his mates for the comments.
Why do you act so weird about it? You jealous? At least they’ve got the balls to be open about it, you’re not even sending Ava a dm because you’re too chickenshit to talk to her.
When the kid looks up, you give him a quick thumbs up.
He just shrugs.
---
On the morning of prom, Priya comes to pick you up from home, to help out the prom committee arranging the decorations of the party that evening.
Have you heard about Nick and Charlie? she asks, and you shake a no. She’s got a nephew in the rugby team who told his mum about it, and her sister messaged her.
Nick came out on Instagram .
All of a sudden you feel entirely too old for this world. How do these teenagers keep doing this? Priya laughs at your face.
I caught them snogging after practice once.
She had never told you before. And you’re so fond, so so fond, of Priya, because you know she was there for Nick, in a way you were there for Charlie. She kept it quiet, even for you.
If there’s anything you learned over the years, it’s that you’ll find family everywhere, in every corner, in every classroom.
---
It’s emotional to see Charlie in a different suit for once, tightly holding his boyfriend’s hand at prom when arriving. You wink at him when he sees you and waves, his distinct little Charlie wave.
Just a year ago, you rubbed his shoulder when, with red-rimmed eyes, he told you he was being bullied, viciously, with seemingly no end. He felt so alone.
And now, you see a glowing Elle dancing with Tao (when did that happen?). Priya’s texting her wife photos of the decorations and the band. You texted Youssef, to see where that may lead. And Charlie’s sitting next to Nick, softly talking, holding his hand. His eyes shine of something that he probably doesn’t even realise just yet.
For now there’s a calm, satisfied peace in him. And you know, whatever happens, he’ll see it through. He’s so kind, sweet, and so loving. Such a witty kid. So tough.
And all you feel is pride.
The kid will be alright.