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11.10, Charlie ❤️🐱🖕🏼
i’m watching you lot being idiots from here
that’s an impressive fort
one question
why the fuck did you choose the shorts over the mini skirt???
if i have to see harry’s thighs at school, i at least deserve to see yours as a palette cleanser
nicholas
reply to me when i’m flirting with you
…
fine
enjoy being old and pretending to be cool. see if i care xxxxxxxx
I flip my phone over on the table and pretend that I’m not bothered. Across from me, Tao raises an eyebrow. He goes ignored. He doesn’t get a chance to push me because the headteacher, Mr Shannon, is suddenly in front of me asking me to calm the Year 13s down outside before they set fire to the school. It wouldn't be the first time in this town, but we won’t get into that now.
Being Head Boy is shit sometimes. Like when Mr Shannon asks me to do stuff. Unacceptable of him, actually. I agree to do it anyway (though I won’t actually tell them to stop, I’m not an idiot), because it’s a chance to see Nick.
I have been going out with Nick Nelson since I was fourteen. He likes rugby and Formula 1, animals (especially dogs), the Marvel Universe, the sound felt tips make on paper, rain, drawing on shoes, Disneyland and minimalism. He also likes me.
Nick is kind of a dream, actually, until I’m texting him and he isn’t responding. Fucking rude. To be fair to him, it is his last day of school. That’s a weird as fuck sentence for me to think because what do you mean I have to do Truham without Nick next year? Obviously I’ve known this day would come for our whole two-year relationship, but that doesn’t make it any easier now that the day is finally here.
Anyway. I go outside to the tennis courts and the fuck off fort the Year 13s have made out of cardboard boxes. There are some very mediocre and sparse High School Musical decorations strewn around and a barbeque set up between the two courts. I’m almost impressed.
Harry finds me first. He’s a twat, but at least he’s not a bully anymore. He spits some nonsense at me that I don’t really care to hear until suddenly he’s calling Nick’s name and directing me towards him. Finally, something useful.
Nick turns around at the sound of his name, and… there he is. My favourite person. He lights up when he sees me and waves me over. I hate that seeing him still gives me butterflies. Pathetic, really.
“You didn’t text me back, twat,” I say when I’m close enough to throw accusations at him.
“Yeah. Too busy getting my head in the game.”
God, he’s a dork.
“Speaking of. Where’s your skirt?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Not a chance, Spring.”
I don’t get the opportunity to follow up on that, or to start begging, before he’s holding an old disposable camera up to my face. I hear the click before I have a second to dodge him.
“Wow. That wasn’t great.”
“Fuck off!” I squawk. “You surprised me.”
We chat for a while – enough time for me to convince Mr Shannon that I’ve done what he asked – and Nick takes a few more pictures while I’m there. He takes another one of me, prepared this time, and then turns the camera and takes one of both of us. I steal it and snap one of him. He complains that he doesn’t want photos of himself on his walls at uni, but I tell him that one's for me.
“I expect to see that one of us framed when I come and visit you at uni, Nelson,” I warn him, even though I’m getting a little bit sick of the word uni these days.
It’s a good thing, really. Exciting. At least, it is for Nick. He’s ready for uni, ready for a whole new life more than 200 miles away from me. Which is fine. It’s cool. It has to be cool, or else I’m just a clingy dickhead holding Nick back. Right?
The trouble is, all Nick seems to talk about lately is uni. How excited he is to leave home. And me.
No, that’s not fair. I know deep down that Nick doesn’t want to leave me. He loves me, but he has to live his life the way he wants to. He would never ask me to give something up for him, and I wouldn’t do that to him, either. Still, it’s sometimes easy to forget those things when all he talks to me about is Leeds. His usual sappy or teasing messages stop being about normal, everyday stuff and instead, all I’m getting is uni content. Here’s a small selection of our text threads lately to prove my fucking point:
15.31, Nick ❤️🐶🖕🏼
Omg Char I just saw the cutest duvet cover in Asda
Do you think I’ll get bullied if I turn up to uni with puppy bedding???
15.34, Charlie ❤️🐱🖕🏼
yes, nick
very much
but also, you’re adorable
xoxo
Mum went a bit OTT on the mugs
I think she thinks I’m going to drink a lot of tea
… you ARE going to drink a lot of tea
that’s all you and queen sarah do some days
Hush
And omg she got like six pillows
How many beds does she think I’m gonna get
We don’t even know what size it is yet
I may have more pillow than bed
she’s thinking of my visits when i hog them all xoxox
🥲
She’s the best
always x
19.12, Nick ❤️🐶🖕🏼
do you think Leeds uni has a policy against smuggling dogs in
19.40, Charlie ❤️🐱🖕🏼
i don’t know, nick
ask them x
If they do I’ll just break it
Rip my perfect uni record
Nellie & Henry are coming with me
Leeds has this really cool looking park that they’d love
I bet I’ll play rugby there with my new teammates. Chucking the ball. Drinking beer and bbqing. LADS LADS LADS
oh my god
divorce
It does look fucking cool though
10.22, Nick ❤️🐶🖕🏼
CHARLIEEEEEE
GUESS HOW MANY DAYS UNTIL UNIIIIII
11.40, Charlie ❤️🐱🖕🏼
really?
Nah I’ll tell you
It’s 89
That’s so few!!!!!
Exciting innit
sure!
I can’t wait to get my room assignment through
I wonder what my flatmates will be like
So bloody excited to meet themmmmmm
:)
Yeah. The point is, he’s been a bit annoying about it all. It’s partly my own fault that he’s still going on and on – I haven’t said anything to him about it bothering me, so how would he know? Apart from my passive, one-word responses and general grumpiness, that is. Usually Nick picks up on my mood so well and I am a bit surprised, but then he’s so hyper fixated on uni right now that I don’t think he has the brain space to notice that anything is weird. Normally we talk about this stuff – the things we get sad or annoyed about, but he’s just so excited and I don’t want him to feel bad, even if I am panicking.
I know that the mature thing to do would be to tell him and get the reassurance I need, but I think I’d rather drink it away at Harry’s end of school party tomorrow night instead. Soz, Geoff. Maybe next week.
We go back to Nick’s after school, like we so often do. We don’t really do anything, which is also normal for us. We change into comfy clothes, and I mess around on his laptop a bit while he makes himself some food. I say no when he offers me some. I’m still not great at snacking, but he always asks. It’s sweet, really.
After he’s eaten, he starts talking about uni again. He’s been looking into the intricacies of Leeds uni rugby and hoping he’ll be good enough to make the first team, and it’s his new favourite thing to talk about. I don’t know how to stop him without making it about me so I use the only weapon I have in my arsenal and lean over to kiss the words right out of his mouth. He makes a surprised noise against my lips but comes easily when I pull him down on top of me. After a moment of letting himself be thoroughly kissed, Nick pulls back with a furrowed brow.
“You alright, Char? I didn’t think it was going to be that kind of afternoon. Not that I’m complaining or anything, obviously, but… just wanted to check in. Is there something else you wanted to talk about?”
Fuck. He knows I’m using sex as a distraction. I’m tempted, again, to do the sensible thing and tell him the truth.
Instead, I give him my best smirk and say, “not really,” and then kiss him even harder.
🌼🌼🌼
I stay over at Nick’s, because I much prefer sleeping in his bed than my own these days. My alarm wakes me up the next morning and I hear Nick groan, telling me to stay in bed with him. I want to, but I’m on study leave and I know I won’t do any revising with Nick around. Especially not if I’m having to distract him with sex every time he brings up Leeds. My dick might actually fall off, to be fair. I start to climb out of bed, but he grabs me around the waist and pulls me back into him, whining about me not going. Eventually I manage to wrestle free, but he almost gets me with his sleepy little pout.
God, he’s annoying but he’s so fucking cute.
Or he is, anyway, until he’s just plain annoying again. He drops me off at school and says he’s going back to bed when he gets home, but by third period the text onslaught has begun.
11.34, Nick ❤️🐶🖕🏼
Do you think I should take my xbox or is that too unsociable?
Maybe I should email to check whether I’ll have a double bed?? Like how do people know which sheets to buy?
Fuckin better be a double btw I can’t deal with your bed 2.0
Did you get that picture? My phone’s being weird and it’s not loading for me
Probs from when I dropped it down the stairs lol
Is Kaleem in school?? If he is, can you ask him whether he knows about the beds?
So… xbox?? Yay nay???
I’m going to scream. My friend Aled, who is revising with me, notices my frustration. I tell him a little bit about what’s going on and he tells me I should talk to Nick. Which, yeah. No shit. I consider it again, even opening our text thread.
Charlie ❤️🐱🖕🏼
nick. can we talk about uni later? like, a proper chat. all good, but i’ve had something on my mind
I read it back and immediately delete it. It sounds like I’m about to tell him I want to break up with him no matter how I try to word it, and obviously that’s the last thing I want. Instead, I swipe out of our text conversation and load up Google instead, typing in how to deal with your relationship going long-distance.
It… does not help.
“You’ll be alright,” Aled tells me. “You’re Nick and Charlie.”
And what the fuck does that mean?
🌼🌼🌼
By the time Nick picks me up after school, I’ve spiralled into a proper fucking slump. The search results had just made me freak out even more. Story after story of people saying how they started long distance with the best of intentions but it never worked out. Fuck.
When I get into Nick’s car and he asks if I’m okay, all I do is grunt. I don’t want to take my mood out on him and, if I open my mouth, I might actually explode. Which, no. That wouldn’t help anything. I know he’ll let me sulk for a bit, assuming I’ll tell him when I’m ready. Poor sod. I’ve buried this one down far enough that it’s not coming back up any time soon.
I… was incorrect. It is very much going to come back up again soon.
I’m drunk. I know that nothing good can come from it, not while I’m in this mood, but for some reason I can’t seem to stop refilling my cup. This will probably end in disaster but. Fuck it. That’s just where we’re at right now.
I started pounding vodka the minute we arrived. Nick drove us, so he watches helplessly from behind his cup of lemonade while I down my first drink, and then my second, in quick succession.
“Char, are you sure that’s a good idea?”
I want to tell him he’s not my dad and to let me be, but, actually, a different tactic might work better. Instead, I gaze up at him, smirking slightly, and watch as his face starts to flush. God, he’s easy.
“Nick,” I murmur, watching with satisfaction as his eyes dip down to my lips briefly. “I want a drunk hook up in the bathroom later.”
And then I walk away before he even has a chance to respond.
I’m very aware that I’m using his attraction to me to avoid talking. I try to stay away from him for the rest of the party, which isn’t wholly unusual. We’re not one of those couples who needs to spend every second together or who don’t have any other friends. Good job, too, seeing as he’s about to abandon me.
God, I’m a terrible person. What kind of dickhead can’t even be happy for his boyfriend when something exciting is happening to him?
Everywhere I turn at this stupid party, people are talking about uni. I haven’t found a single conversation partner who isn’t buzzing about how excited they are to finally be done with school and everything about it. Like Year 12s, probably. I eventually stumble into the conservatory because I can’t stand properly anymore. Tao is there, nursing something pink and too sweet looking in his plastic cup. He starts chatting to me about God knows what but I’m struggling to focus on his exact words. Until he asks about Nick, that is, and my head snaps around.
“Have you and Nick talked about it?” he repeats when I tell him I didn’t hear him, and I don’t really know what it is and I definitely don’t want to discuss it, so I shush him and lay my head on his shoulder instead.
“Aw, you’re such an adorable lightweight,” he coos, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “I’m glad we’re not leaving school this year.”
I groan loudly. “If one more person mentions leaving school, I’m literally going to scream.”
Tao doesn’t take my ire seriously. He giggles and pats my cheek. “There, there. You’ll be fine. You’re Nick and Charlie.”
Tao too? Fucking hell. Would someone please tell me what the fuck that even means?
Eventually, Nick finds me there. He looks worried. I mean, fair. We tend to drift away at these things, but we always check in regularly and make sure each other is okay. He must know by now that I’m avoiding him.
He kneels down in front of the chair I’m on and tilts his head. “You okay, Char?”
I want to roll my eyes so hard my head falls off. I’m not a fucking baby that needs to be asked that every three seconds. “I’m fine,” I grit out.
He looks a little like he’s been slapped. I haven’t talked to him like this since I was really ill and I couldn’t help it.
He stands up. “Alright, fine. No need to shout at me.”
I try to tell him that I wasn’t shouting, but I kind of was. He walks away before I get a chance to defend myself though. Fine. Whatever. Better get used to him walking away, I guess.
By midnight, I don’t really know what’s happening anymore. I’ve made it down to the basement and my head is fucking spinning. I’d hoped the loud music down here would drown out my thoughts but no such luck. There is no noise loud enough to convince me that I’m not a piece of shit.
I don’t know why I’m being like this with Nick. In trying to avoid being selfish, I’ve managed to make myself so resentful that I’m taking it out on him anyway. Avoiding talking to him hasn’t solved anything – shocking, I know – and has made me weird and angry instead. I don’t want to take my own insecurities and anxieties out on Nick but, like. He’s there. And he annoyed me. And it’s so much easier to let myself do that than it is to hold it together all the fucking time.
See? Like I said, I’m a piece of shit.
Aled finds me before anyone else. When I hear his voice, I’m both disappointed and relieved that it isn’t Nick. He’s checking if I’m okay, too. I don’t know why people keep asking me that when it’s quite clear that I’m not.
“Is this because of Tao and Elle?” he queries.
I have no idea what that means. What about Tao and Elle?
I must have asked the question out loud because Aled continues. “You know, about them breaking up?”
I snap my head up to look at him. What? Aled is apologising and saying he thought I would know by now, which I clearly don’t. He tells me that they couldn’t face the thought of the distance so decided to just end it now and… double what? They’re not even going to try? They’re simply going to assume that all long-distance relationships are doomed and that there’s nothing else for it but to call it now? Why would they do that without even trying?
Nick and I won’t do that. He doesn’t want to give up before we’ve tried, does he?
Or, does he? Does he want to break up with me?
Oh my god, what if he wants to break up with me?
I ignore Aled’s rambled apologies and worried expression, instead covering my ears with my hands and burying my head in my knees instead.
“Char?” a voice asks a little while later, and it is Nick this time. Fucking great.
I glance up at him and he’s clearly worried about me. I want to find it nice and sweet, which is probably his intention. Instead, it feels suffocating.
“What’s wrong?” he half-shouts over the music.
I laugh bitterly. “You here to talk about university again?”
“What?”
“It’s pissing me off so much, Nick,” I tell him. Fuck. I was not meant to say that. Not like this. Not here. Not drunk.
“Pissing you off?” he repeats, looking confused and a little hurt.
I can fix this. I can stop him from looking at me like that. I can stop him wanting to leave me.
I surge forward and wrap an arm around his neck, kissing him hard. Our noses bump and our teeth clash but it’s okay. It’s fine. I can fix this.
Except I can’t, apparently, because he’s pushing me away. I don’t think he’s ever stopped me kissing him before. Fuck. Does he actually want this to end?
“Don’t,” he pleads. I double down and try to kiss him again but he stands up this time. “Charlie, you’re acting really weird. Will you talk to me, please? Come on, let’s go upstairs where it’s quieter.”
I don’t answer, but I let him pull me up and lead me up the stairs. Fuck. Is this it? Everybody knows that a talk never ends well. Is he going to do this here, now? Break up with me?
My panic gets more and more intense as he leads me back towards the conservatory. The rain is almost as loud as the music downstairs as it pummels on the glass roof. It’s kind of pretty. I think I’d rather stare at that instead of having this conversation.
Nick leads me to the armchair and sits me down and then crouches in front of me so our eyelines are level. “Right. What’s going on?”
I don’t reply. He sounds like he’s behind a window or something, all muffled and quiet. Or maybe that’s just the vodka.
“Charlie,” he says a little louder. I try to focus on him instead of the spinning in my head. “Why are you acting like this, Charlie?”
“What?” I huff. I think I’m smiling, but it doesn’t feel right. It feels mean, somehow. My stomach lurches. I really don’t want to do this now. “What am I acting like?”
“Well, one minute you’re seriously pissed off with me – and I still have no idea why, by the way – and the next you’re trying to stick your tongue down my throat in front of everyone.”
I feel sick. He looks so confused and so hurt and I – I did that to him. Me. Because I’m stupid.
“Talk to me, Charlie. You can’t be angry at me if you can’t even tell me what I’m doing wrong.”
Doing wrong? He’s doing nothing wrong. Not really. He’s allowed to want to grow up and move on with his life. I’m the problem here. I don’t know how to say all that though when my thoughts and my words are all jumbled in my head and stuck in my throat. Instead, I shake my head. Because that’ll help.
“Fucking hell,” he sighs, standing up again and backing onto the sofa behind him. “I don’t know what to do here, Char.”
“Do what you need to do,” I mumble.
“What? What do I need to do?”
“Yeah. Just break up with me if that’s what you want.”
I don’t look at him, I don’t want to see the expression on his face. I do hear his sharp exhale though.
“Break up with you? What the fuck are you talking about, Charlie?”
“If you want, like, a fresh start at uni. If you’re bored, or whatever.”
“I don’t understand,” he utters, sounding desperate now. “Is that what you want?”
“I… just want you to be happy,” I admit quietly, finally looking at him. His mouth is open as he stares at me, wide-eyed. He looks terrified. I did that, too.
“Why are you saying this, Charlie? Is that why you’ve been so weird today, because you want to break up but you don’t know how to do it? What, you’re going to ask me to do it instead?”
I swallow thickly. I didn’t notice I was crying until I feel the dampness on my cheeks. I don’t know how to explain what’s going on in my brain, how frustrated and scared and anxious I’ve been lately. I open my mouth, close it again. Nothing comes out.
“Wow,” Nick breathes, letting out a humourless puff of air. “You’re not even going to deny it?”
No. I have nothing to deny. I’m not the one who wants this to end.
“I – I’m the one who’s getting left behind,” I remind him.
It’s not the answer he wants, clearly. He looks even more angry now. It sparks something in me, and suddenly I’m standing up and letting it all pour out of me.
“You’re the one who’s fucking off to university, aren’t you? You’re the one moving 200 miles away and leaving me here, on my own, like I don’t even matter. You don’t seem to understand what that means, Nick. You keep saying we’ll be fine, and that we’ll FaceTime, and that everything will be sunshine and rainbows, but it won’t! It fucking won’t, Nick. I’m going to be stuck here in this shitty little town all by myself and all you can fucking talk about is how you can’t wait to leave. Like it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you, leaving me.”
Nick stands up too. “What? Charlie, I’m not leaving you. And what am I meant to do, not go to fucking university?”
I deflate, shrinking back into myself. “No, I –”
“Because that’s what it sounds like you’re saying. Oh my god, this is insane. Charlie, we’ve known about this for months and you’re freaking out now? We’ve talked about it to death, haven’t we?”
We haven’t. We definitely haven’t. We said we’d do long distance, but we haven’t talked about the realities of that. We haven’t talked about what happens when he makes loads of new friends and doesn’t have time for me anymore, or what he’s going to do when people hit on him, or if he sees us lasting the whole time he’s away. We haven’t talked about anything real.
“No. You don’t understand, Nick.”
“What don’t I understand?”
He’s half-shouting now and I hate it. Nick hasn’t ever raised his voice at me before, not even when I’ve pushed and pushed him. We’ve fought before, obviously, but he’s never shouted at me. He was always the calmer one while I lost it. I can’t stand it.
I swallow back a sob and ask him, “Why are you being like this?”
“Mate, what the fuck am I being like?”
Mate. Fucking mate.
“Don’t call me mate,” I tell him firmly, narrowing my eyes at him. “You never call me mate.”
He shakes his head, looking like he can’t believe me. That’s probably fair, but I’m annoyed now. Him calling me what he calls the lads at school is crossing a fucking line. Like I’m just anyone else. Proving my fucking point.
“Why are you being such a dick tonight?” he spits.
“Oh, fuck off then,” I shout back. I can barely hear my voice over how loud the rain is on the roof now. “Just fucking leave already!”
“Yeah, cool. No problem. With fucking pleasure,” he says, and then he’s turning and storming out of the room without even once looking back at me.
I fall onto the armchair, staring vacantly at the space he’d been standing in. I can’t quite comprehend what just happened and I don’t have the braincells to try, and so I bury my face in my hands and try to stop myself from fucking screaming into them.
Fuck.
🌼🌼🌼
This is shit. Everything feels shit. How can he actually be okay with throwing everything we’ve been through together away? What, because he might meet someone better in uni? Does he want a clean slate in Leeds? Nothing and nobody from his boring hometown holding him back? That doesn’t sound like the Nick I know and love, but I don’t know what else to think at this point.
I know I was shit last night. I was moody and pushy and then, what, I thought I could distract him with a quick make out session in Harry fucking Greene’s fucking basement? Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.
I don’t know why the Tao and Elle thing threw me so much. Like, they argue all the time, but they’ve been together for two years. And they’re just going to give up without trying? I guess I got in my head thinking that if they were bored and wanted a fresh start, then maybe so did Nick. It’s not like we do anything exciting. We mostly sit around in one of our houses. I’m boring, so I wouldn’t blame him if he was bored of me.
I groan as I turn over in bed. Not only do I feel embarrassed and very fucking regretful, I’m also so hungover. My head is pounding, and my stomach won’t seem to settle. If Nick were here, he’d make me some plain toast and a cup of tea with a side of paracetamol. But Nick isn’t here. Nick might never be here again, and it’s all my fault.
I reach for my phone but there are no missed texts or calls or DMs or fucking carrier pigeons. Nothing. He clearly doesn’t want to talk to me and I can’t really be surprised given the way I acted last night.
Eventually, I manage to force myself out of bed. Tori is downstairs somewhere and she usually helps when I feel like this. I find her on the sofa and we squish in together while some film of her choosing plays in the background.
“So,” she starts after long enough that I thought I was going to get away with it. “Is there a reason Nick dropped you at Harry’s last night but didn’t bring you home? Becky said she found you crying in the conservatory. You’re lucky she had her car.”
I debate brushing her off and hiding the truth, but that hasn’t exactly served me well so far, has it? So I tell her everything. I tell her about Nick constantly talking about university and me getting all anxious about it, about Tao and Elle, about everything stupid I said last night.
“That’s a lot,” she says once I’ve finished. “You don’t actually think he wants to break up, do you?”
“I mean, he didn’t deny it. When I told him to just do it if that’s what he wanted, he never said it wasn’t. But he got so angry and… fuck. He should want to after the way I acted.”
“Well, it doesn’t sound like he was perfect either, Charles.”
He wasn’t as bad as me, though. I’m the one who acted so weird and started all this.
Fuck.
🌼🌼🌼
It’s been 36 hours since I’ve heard from Nick. 36 and a half, actually, but who’s counting? I don’t think I’ve ever gone this long without getting at least a ‘❤️’ text from him before and I don’t really know what to do with that information. It looks like my stupid anxiety was right all along and he is done with me. Great.
I keep typing messages out and not sending them. A few of my absolutely golden drafts that never make it include:
Charlie ❤️🐱🖕🏼
can we talk
nick i’m so sorry I’m such a fucking idiot i love you please don’t leave me
hey, dickhead, remember me? how about acknowledging my existence?
fuck you
lets just run away together and never worry about being apart ever again
please forgive me. i’m so fucking sorry.
Yeah. Pathetic.
By Sunday night, I’ve managed to convince myself that he’ll never talk to me again. I’m so scared to send any kind of message and get the answer I don’t want in return, so I don’t, but why isn’t he messaging me? If he wants to talk, he knows where I am, and he doesn’t. So… that’s it then, I guess?
Logically I know that I’m being a massive hypocrite, but I’m not really welcoming logic right now, thank you very much.
🌼🌼🌼
When I wake up on Monday morning, something has shifted. I had a dream about Nick. Nothing particularly groundbreaking, he was just there, in bed with me. When I woke up alone, feeling cold and empty, I realised that I don’t want to feel like this. If there’s anything my years of therapy have taught me, it’s that I don’t have to. There’s a way out if I put in the work, and what I need to do if I don’t want this to happen is put in the fucking work.
I’ve been telling myself all weekend that I don’t want to hear from Nick because then he might confirm that yes, he does want to break up. Never hearing anything is worse, though. Even if he does say that, at least I’ll know and can stop torturing myself.
I don’t know how to contact him, though. A text feels all wrong and not enough. Turning up at his house right now feels too pushy, in case he really does need some more space to think. I rot away on the sofa while I try and think of what to do and that’s when I find it. Nick’s disposable camera shoved down between the cushions. He must have left it here before the party on Friday.
When I look at the little screen on the back I realise it’s full and I have a sudden spark of inspiration. I could print them out for him. That’s a nice gesture, right? I could even frame that one of us in the tennis court like I said I wanted. That’ll show him I don’t want to give up on us, that I want him to take me with him to uni. Even if it is just a silly selfie and not actual me. It’ll have to do for now.
So that’s what I do. I go to Boots and drop the camera off to get the film developed and then I walk restlessly around town while I wait for them to be ready an hour later. I pick up a frame and an Oreo Dairy Milk bar and wait until the photos are finally ready to collect.
I look through them on the bus home. I’ve hated getting the bus ever since Nick got his driving licence. What can I say? I’m a born passenger princess. Still, it gives me time to flick through Nick’s pictures. They’re… actually nice. There’s the one of me that he took without me realising on the tennis courts and it’s not as bad as I imagined. There’s the one I took of him mid-blink, which actually is terrible. He looks like a thumb. Then there’s the selfie, the one I’ll frame, which is actually one of our best. Nick’s arm is around my shoulder and our heads are together and we’re both smiling and there’s a little lens flare from the sunshine falling across Nick’s chest. Very artsy. Very gay. Very cute.
I pause as I come across the next one of me except, this time, I’m asleep. I’m in his bed, softly lit by the streetlights outside, my hand curled up next to my face and my hair a fucking state. I don’t even know when he took it but it’s beautiful.
After that, it’s almost all me. Me in his car, me with Nellie, me on his sofa, me with his mum, me holding Henry, me on top of a hill with my arms out like a total twat. I look nice in most of them, candid and happy and all glowy when I look at him. Is that how he sees me? Is this Charlie Spring through his lens? Because if so, there’s no way he’s done, right?
This is our life in photographs. Sleeping and lounging around and going on walks and hanging out with his dogs. I love it. I love us. I love our boring little life. Maybe, if I can keep my head out of my arse, Nick will keep loving it, too.
I take my phone out of my pocket and snap a picture of the tennis court selfie, and then I send it to Nick.
🌼🌼🌼
I don’t get a response. I see the little blue tick that tells me he’s read my message, and then nothing else. Fuck. Am I too late?
No. I refuse to believe that. I keep sending the pictures anyway. Eventually, the blue ticks stop appearing, but I don’t stop. I send him all of the ones of us together and some of the ones he took of me and wait.
By the evening, I’m a little angry. I send some impulsive follow up texts that I instantly regret, but not until it’s too late.
16.33, Charlie ❤️🐱🖕🏼
you’re not even going to answer?
cool
talk to you whenever you decide i’m worthy i guess
16.40, Charlie ❤️🐱🖕🏼
that was mean
this is weird and i hate it
will you just message me back please before i lose my fucking mind?
Still, I get no response.
🌼🌼🌼
I have a new fire in my belly when I wake up on Tuesday. I’ve lived through three full, horrible, Nick-less days so far and this will be the fucking last, I swear it. Also, I’m a bit annoyed that he left me on read. I’m going to pinch him very hard once I eventually convince him to forgive me.
I’d had a bit of a brainwave during my restless night. I have the photo, I have the frame. Makes sense to make the gesture for real, right? I still don’t want to just show up at Nick’s house and force him to face me, but I can slip it through his letterbox and run away. I’m pretty fucking fast, after all. So, I get up and I put our selfie in its frame and then I find a pen and paper.
Hey. You take a lot of pictures of me. D’you have a crush on me or something? How embarrassing.
If you want to talk, I’ll be at the Truham Primary School Summer Fête tomorrow at 3. Christ, as if we’re in one of the fucking romcoms we make fun of. So gay.
Sorry for being sappy. I know you like it, but I’m sorry to myself because, ew. Btw, I love you. Like, a lot. Okay bye xxxxx
I slip the picture, the chocolate bar and the note into a padded envelope I find in my mum’s office, and then I practically sprint to Nick’s house.
🌼🌼🌼
I’m shitting it while I wait for him to show up at the fête the next day. I leave Olly and dad and escape to the entrance of the field, just inside the tennis court. It feels like last Thursday all over again, when all of this stupid shit started. I hope this tennis court experience ends as well as that one did, with me in his car and us in love and planning a future. Together. Preferably forever. Gross.
I stare at my phone as it hits 3pm. Part of me still thinks he’ll turn up and tell me he really does want to break up, and part of me thinks he won’t show up at all. There’s a tiny, hopeful corner of my brain that thinks we can fix this today. I don’t know.
I look up and there he is, walking through the tennis court gate.
Well. I guess I’m about to find out.
“I got the photo,” he says when he’s close enough to hear. He shakes his head sheepishly straight after. “I mean, obviously. I’m here.”
I huff out a laugh. “Genuinely the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”
“Yeah. And you call me a simp,” he teases with a small smile. That’s a good sign. Making fun of me is good.
“So. You didn’t text me back, twat.”
Nick blinks. “You didn’t text me back.”
“Uh, no? Nick, I sent you like 20 messages yesterday. You left me on read.”
“How can I leave you on read when I’ve never read them? Char, I swear, I didn’t see any messages,” he tells me, digging into his pocket for his phone.
He unlocks it and scrolls to our message thread, turning the phone around so I can see the screen. It… is not what mine shows. Nick’s is all messages from him in varying degrees of desperation. At some point, I want to study them so I can make fun of him relentlessly but now is not the time. Anyway, there are no texts from me on his phone.
“What the fuck,” I murmur, pulling my own phone out and showing him that. “Look, mine is just me.”
Nick takes the phone and skims my messages, clearly going through a fucking emotional journey as he does.
“Oh, shit,” he breathes. “What the fuck happened?”
“I don’t know! Are your other texts going through?”
He thinks about it for a moment and then his eyes widen. “Uh. Imogen and Tara never texted me back either. Shit, do you think this has something to do with when I kicked my phone down the stairs last week?”
I stare blankly at him. Fucking hell, he’s an idiot. He’s my idiot, though. I hope, anyway.
“Wait, what are all those photos you were sending me in the messages?”
“Oh. That’s embarrassing too, actually. I got your pictures developed. I found your silly little disposal camera at mine and thought it’d be a nice gesture. I was sending them all to you one by one.”
“Wow,” Nick breathes, and I think he’s going to get emotional until he smirks and says, “Gay.”
I pinch him. And then I pinch him again for not texting me back, even though apparently that wasn’t his fault. He grins and I feel a pang of hope.
“Well, I didn’t get any photos except the one through the door,” he reiterates. “Can I see them now?”
And so I show him. We sit down and lean against the fence as I show him all the pictures I took of the prints. We laugh at the stupid ones and pause at the cute ones. Occasionally we stop at one that brings up a memory, and we talk about it, all soft and fond. We remember all the silly dates we’ve been on and the terrible ones and the great ones, the repetitive days we spend indoors and outdoors, at school and at home. By the end, we’re both smiling.
We’re quiet for a moment before I murmur his name at the same time as he blurts out “I don’t want to break up.”
Oh thank fucking fuck. I sag in relief.
“Me neither,” I say, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I did. I really, really didn’t.”
“Same. I’m sorry I shouted at you. And didn’t drive you home.”
“I’m sorry I got drunk and tried to make out with you in front of everyone.”
“I’m sorry I called you a dick.”
“I’m sorry I was a dick.”
“I’m sorry for talking about uni all the time.”
“I’m sorry for getting pissed off with you talking about uni all the time.”
He laughs at that. It’s an amazing, boyish, Nick laugh. He leans his head down on my shoulder and reaches for my hand. I give his fingers a squeeze.
“I promise I’ll hang up that photo you framed for me. I love it, by the way. That was very cute.”
I barely resist rolling my eyes. “Don’t be gay.”
He huffs a laugh, shaking his head at me. Then he sobers and whispers, “I don’t want to break up with you, ever.”
It’s the best thing I’ve ever heard in my fucking life.
🌼🌼🌼
We sack off the fête after that. Nick suggests he drive us to our beach. The beach where we became boyfriends, the beach we’ve been on countless dates to, the beach that feels a little bit like it’s always there for us. I agree immediately.
We do all the things we usually do when we come here – visit the arcade, share a portion of fish and chips, paddle until our jeans get wet and we immediately regret it. I take pictures on my phone all afternoon because Nick shouldn’t be the only one who has good ones of us, and I don’t do it enough.
After all of that, we walk to the end of the thin pier and sit on the bench there. It’s our favourite spot. We’ve lost hours and hours here over the course of our relationship, talking and kissing and talking some more. We do the same now. We talk about everything we’ve been avoiding for weeks, about what it’s going to be like when we’re long distance and what we’re going to do to make it work. I honestly believe that we will, now. We’ll be okay, because we have to be. I won’t have it any other way.
I look at Nick in the low light of the setting sun. He’s beautiful and he’s an idiot and he’s annoying and he’s perfect and he’s mine. I smile softly at him and thank the universe that my life is like this.
We go back to his house after because I can’t stand the thought of another night away from him right now. We talk some more and we lounge on his bed playing on his Switch and then somehow we’re kissing. I pull him as close as I possibly can and hold him probably too tight, but he’s doing the same.
It feels almost like our first time again. It’s been an emotional weekend and I’m exhausted and I can tell he feels the same because he just keeps saying my name over and over and over again. I tell him to shut up and call him a weirdo but he keeps doing it anyway and, honestly, I don’t even mind. He keeps touching me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear, and I get it. I’m scared too. I believe in us, but we’re coming to the end of our relationship as we know it. I think it’ll work. I think we’ll be even better than ever, honestly. But it’s still an ending and it still makes me want to cling on tight and never let him go.
We lay together in silence afterwards, his head on my chest and our legs intertwined. I close my eyes and smile to myself until I feel him move and open my eyes to see him holding his phone up above us, taking a picture.
“Nick!” I squawk, reaching for the phone.
I fully intend on deleting it because we have literally just had sex and we’re still gross and sweaty, but I stop short when I see it. It’s kind of lovely, actually. He’s half-smirking up at the camera with his head on my chest and my hand in his hair and he caught my closed eyed smile. We look good.
I won’t tell him that though.
“You better not put that one up on your uni wall. I don’t need all your new flatmates to see my naked body,” I grumble.
“Nah, this one is for my eyes only,” he grins. “Can I set it as my wallpaper?”
“What, and replace the one of me with Nellie and Henry? Do you finally love me more than your dogs?”
Nick cranes his head back and gives me a look that clearly says I’m insane. “Charlie. No. You don’t love me more than my dogs, either.”
I can’t hold back my laugh because, yeah. Fair enough. “Okay, yeah. I’ll allow it.”
“I do love you more than any other human, though. That’ll have to do.”
“Hmm,” I pretend to consider it
I want to say the same back to him, that I love him more than any other human. It doesn’t feel like enough, though. It doesn’t encapsulate everything I feel for him, everything we’ve been and everything we will be. I don’t know what our relationship will look like when he’s at uni, or how we’ll cope with the distance, or how I’ll feel being at Truham without him. I don’t know much, but I know how much I love him, and now how much he loves me, and he’s right. That’ll have to do for now.
“Fine,” I agree eventually, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That’ll do.”
My alarm wakes us up the next morning. Now that things are sorted with Nick, I intended to go back to school to continue on with my revision. When I turn my alarm off and roll over, though, Nick makes an adorable grumbling noise.
“Don’t go to school today. You don’t have to. Stay with me,” he pleads.
And, you know what? Yeah. I reach out and pull him closer to me and he makes a happy little noise and snuggles in close.
“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll stay with you.”
I think I probably always will. We’re Nick and Charlie, after all.
🌼🌼🌼
Later.
(Like, at any point over the next three years later. You know what they’re like)
14.31, Nick ❤️🐶🖕🏼
CHAAAARLIIIEEEEEEEE
Dickhead
Hey
Hey
Hey
Hey
Pay attention to me
14.34, Charlie ❤️🐱🖕🏼
why
why do i love you
why do i put up with you
why do i love you more than any other human
just. why.
Blah blah pretending to be sassy and cold blah blah
excuse me i have never pretended to be sassy
i am the queen of sass
That’s Tori
oh, ur new girlfriend???
I swear to god Charles, I will murder you and your whole family
that would include Victoria Spring, the great love of your life
You are the most annoying person on this planet
Going back to “why”
WHY do *I* love you more than any other human
And also still want your attention even tho you’re bullying me
literally the story of ur life, nicholas.
u love me best when i’m bullying u xxxxxxx
Accurate
Maybe I should bring that up in therapy kjsdfhkshd
nick do not tell your therapist that you get hard when i’m mean to you
That is literally not what I said wow
am i wrong???????????????????
……
I can neither confirm nor deny
You’ll have to go through my lawyer
I’ll use him for our divorce too
woooow
divorce before we’re even married
impressive
fine, but i’m taking the dawwwwwwg
That makes me want a hot dog reeaaal baaaad
babe ur legally blonde obsession is getting out of hand
You started it!!!
hey nick
change of topic but
wanna go to the beach when we’re home next week? watch the sunset from our bench?
UMMMM YES
What made you think of that
dunno
just quite like you and stuff
Wow
Gay
unfortunately so
embarrassing of me i know
wanna hear something even more embarrassing?
sure x
Marry me xxxxxxxxxxxxx
nick nelson I SWEAR TO GOD