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“He’s a pathetic. Little. Fag.”
The first swing isn’t entirely intentional. It’s almost as though he’s no longer in his body. He watches himself punch Harry, watches Harry throw him into the wall. The other boys don’t stop Harry, but they don’t stop him either, so he continues to throw punches until there’s yelling, and Harry is being ripped off him, and then he’s being thrown out the door he’d just come in through.
He sees himself get into his mum’s car, watches himself pet Nellie softly, almost as though he’s terrified of hurting her, too. His knuckles hurt. It scares him, how easy it was to punch Harry. Harry Greene, who had been his best friend for years before Year 11.
His mum is speaking, and he watches himself watch Nellie, eyes hurting but remaining open.
“Nick.”
He’s within himself again, and he blinks roughly. Nellie whinges, head propped on his knee.
“What?”
His mum sighs through her nose, and he knows she’s upset.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
A tissue appears in his hand (he thinks it’s been there, it didn’t just appear), and he blots the slow stream from his nose. He hadn’t realised it was bleeding. “There’s nothing really to tell.” It isn’t a lie; He isn’t sure he even knows what happened, how can he tell someone else?
“Oh, Nicky. Come on, baby.” She’s frustrated with him. He hasn’t been on her bad side like this in a while, not since David was home last, not since he and his brother got into it over something stupid.
“Harry was…saying some really- nasty stuff about Charlie. He’s been really gross and mean about him for ages, and I just…I lost it.”
His mum whips her head to face him, briefly. He can tell she’s surprised at the admission. He isn’t one to get into fights, much less start them.
“I’m just so angry at myself for not seeing that all my friends…suck.” He shocks himself with that. It hadn’t been a conscious thought, but now that it’s there, he really, truly believes it. His mum frowns at him. “Sweetheart, you know fighting’s not the answer.”
He looks out the window. He hadn’t noticed how far they’d gotten from the cinema before they’d started talking. “I know. He just…used a really bad word.”
His mum shows a hint of recognition. “I see.” She stares, pensive, at the road. “Charlie’s a really special friend, isn’t he?”
He thinks she might be right.
That scares him, too.