Chapter Text
- Alone
Alfie was scared to go to school. He wouldn’t tell his mom that though. He loved his mother more than anything in the world. She might have been the only thing he loved that loved him back. But still, he couldn’t tell her about the bullying.
It felt like every day was a new torture to endure. The other boys at Truham grammar were so mean to him. He was starting to understand why.
When they called him names, he wondered why it felt like they were right. Of course, it hurt, but those words and slurs got him thinking more and more about himself. The way he looked didn’t help.
He knew he reeked of classic nerd, just by the way he looked. He couldn’t help that he was born with poor eyesight, or that he had straight hair that popped up a little weird on one side. That was just how he was.
Believe him, he would have loved if he looked like all the other boys in school. Most of them were already getting taller. But he was stuck in this tiny form.
He hopped on the bus, waving goodbye to his mom. He sat two rows from the back. He always did. Almost everyone tried to score a seat in the back row, but Alfie was perfectly content in this row.
It also gave him a good view of everyone boarding the bus. He watched as Charlie Spring, a year 12 at Truham, boarded the bus with his sister. Alfie had come to like Charlie. They had never spoken, but Charlie always offered him a kind smile in the halls.
The Springs were also the stop just after Alfie in the mornings, so he felt he knew them well.
Truham Grammar was already bustling in the morning. Alfie had never been much of a morning person. He preferred staying up late to watch movies or read. Sometimes even to listen to music.
“Hey, Alfie!” A voice he knew too well called from the tables by the front gate. The next he knew, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, and he was crushed between two rugby boys’ big muscles and hormone stink.
“Do you even touch your hair in the morning?” One of the boys asked. The other one laughed, and Alfie saw another one of these boys come up to him.
“I bet he has the birds do it! Like Cinderella,” another one said. “Do you feel like a princess, Alfiella?” He asked in a posh accent.
No one around them seemed to care what was going on. He tried shrugging the boys off, but as always, bullying him was their favorite pastime. He tried to find a place in his mind to hide, like he always did.
Alfie was sure these boys were just being friendly. That’s what guys do, right? They poke fun. It wasn’t bullying if they weren’t directly insulting him. And they weren’t that bad… Right?
Eventually, Alfie was able to worm his way out of that situation, and into his Form room. He was sat next to a boy a year older than him who spent almost all of his time talking to another boy across the classroom. Alfie had decided long ago that the only words he actually needed to say in this class was, “Here, sir.” Otherwise, it was like he was invisible.
“Alright boys,” Mr. Armstrong addressed the class, “Today, there will be an assembly in the gymnasium to hear from our candidates for head boy. I’ve been told to tell you that, and I quote.” He cleared his throat and began to read from a slip of paper.
“The election for head boy is in no way a popularity contest. The ballot is to be submitted after the assembly, where you will choose the candidate you believe to be the best prospect to change our school. The candidates are as follows: Angus Burke, Harry Greene, Marcus Prescott, and Charlie Spring. Because of the assembly, you will be permitted to skip your third period classes to listen to the speeches.” Mr. Armstrong sighed. “Any questions?” No one answered. “Great, chat with yourselves until the bell.”
Alfie took that as his cue to go back to drawing in his sketchbook. He was proud of his art. He liked drawing people, but the boys at Truham never sat still long enough for him to use them as a reference. Except for this one boy. He must’ve drawn him a million times at this point, but still he didn’t know the boy’s name.
He sat one table away from Alfie and never sat in the same position. He squirmed and wriggled until he found a place he was comfortable. Alfie found it entertaining to watch the boy grin at what his friends said without ever adding to the conversation. Occasionally they would make eye contact, but it never lasted long. Alfie just knew he liked drawing the boy. He had good anatomy. That was it. A guy can admire another guy’s anatomy without making it weird.
The bell rang, and Alfie shuffled out with the rest of the boys. He walked through the halls in his own bubble, everyone around him having conversations that he wasn’t welcome in. He looked behind him to find the boy looking at the back of his head. The boy turned his head back to his friends, but he still stood somewhat outside of their circle. Alfie smiled to himself, holding his sketchbook closer to his chest.
~*’*~
- Meet
The boys were ushered to their seats in the gymnasium. Alfie was pushed about by boys older than him. He was used to it by now.
He shuffled to his seat and plopped down right next to the boy from Form. Alfie tried as hard as he could to not look at him. He failed. After drawing every detail of the boy’s perfect face and dirty blond hair, Alfie still found himself staring at the details he could never capture from far away. The tiny freckle over his lip and the true green hue of his irises.
“Uh, hi?” The boy asked. Alfie’s eyes widened.
“Hi.” He didn’t know what else to say than that. There were no other words in his head. It’s like in the presence of this boy, everything Alfie thought he knew was thrown out the window and replaced with joyful static.
Alfie cleared his throat, coming back to himself, “Um, sorry. Hi, I’m Alfie.” He thought he sounded pathetic with his high pitched voice and name that many had called, ‘cute’.
The boy looked amused. “Hi, Alfie. I’m Connor. You’re the boy who’s always drawing in Form, aren’t you?” He asked, trying to speak above the noise of all the boys in the school in one single room. Connor. That was a nice name.
“Um, yeah. That’s me. I didn’t think anyone noticed me in there.” Alfie commented quietly. His hands were folded neatly in his lap, and right then, his nails were digging into the soft skin.
“All that drawing means you must be pretty good, huh?” He asks. Alfie has no idea how he has such a cool aloof nature. Alfie nodded in response to his question.
He rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, I guess I’m pretty okay. Nothing to like, put in a museum or anything, but…” He trailed off with a shrug. Connor smirked. Alfie noticed a dimple in his left cheek. He wondered if there was another one on the other side.
“Can I see a drawing?” Connor asked. Alfie turned absolutely beet red. If anyone had seen him in that state, they would have assumed he sat in the sun for hours the day before. Alfie’s sketchbook was filled with various doodles of Connor. He could try to find a page worth showing him, but those pages weren’t exactly good. Just pages of practice and shading.
Connor seemed to pick up on Alfie’s hesitation, because he said, “Never mind. I’m sure you don’t want to show me your art. My sister is like that too. She doesn’t like me listening to her sing or reading her stories. Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you sure? I mean I’m sure I could find something to show you,” Alfie said.
“No, it’s fine. If you want to show me something, I’d love to see it, but I don’t think you actually want to right now.” Connor sat back in his chair. Alfie nodded.
After a moment, Alfie decided to speak again. “Who do you think you’ll vote for?” He asked. Connor gave it some thought, genuinely pondering his question.
“Anyone but Harry Greene. He’s been a piece of shit to my sister lately. I doubt he’d even do anything as head boy. Just abuse his power.” He thought for another second, “And use it to get girls.” Alfie laughed shyly. He hadn’t been expecting that. Of course it was true. Alfie had a running theory that Harry Greene was training another army of rugby lads who would bully every even remotely queer kid. But that was just a theory.
“Who do you think you’ll vote for?” Connor asked. Alfie knew the answer. He wasn’t sure if he could say it, though. Everyone knew who Charlie Spring was. He was bullied before Alfie even got to Truham Grammar. Alfie had heard about it from kids older than him, and in many ways, he related to Charlie more than he wanted to admit.
“Charlie Spring seems like a nice guy.” Alfie almost whispered. Connor studied him, then looked back to the stage where a few teachers were still setting things up.
Connor chuckled lightly, “Yeah, he does. You know, Nick Nelson and I had a conversation the other day. He must’ve brought up Charlie at least twelve times.” Connor laughed and Alfie joined him hesitantly. Much like how everyone knew who Charlie was, they knew Nick Nelson just as well. He was the start of the rugby team, but that was rarely ever what people focused on. Nick and Charlie were together. Alfie had seen them holding hands in the hallways and sneaking kisses, just like any couple might. A part of Alfie really wanted what they had. They seemed perfect for each other. But he wouldn’t tell anyone that. No one could know what he wanted. No one could know he was queer.
“Why were you talking to Nick?” Alfie asked. Connor shrugged.
“He was helping a whole bunch of us Year 9s with our future plans. All he was saying was that he was going to Leeds after this year and his wonderful boyfriend was going to come up on the weekends to visit. It got kind of annoying, honestly.” Alfie chuckled. Connor smiled at him, something in his heart giving a little flicker. Connor would worry about that later.
“Oh! It’s starting!” Alfie whisper-shouted. Everyone around them quieted down as the headmaster walked up to the podium. He introduced the first boy who gave a speech about what he would change about the canteen and it was an overall pretty bland speech. Alfie silently checked that boy off in his head.
When Harry Greene got up to speak, the first thing he said was, “Confidence, Charisma, Sex appeal.” Which didn’t make sense to Alfie because this was an all boys school. Unless Harry was making a gay joke, Alfie was just extremely confused. His speech wasn’t bad. Alfie thought a good number of people might vote for him because of that. Come on Charlie, make this good, he begged in his head.
“Uh, hi, everyone. My name’s Charlie. A lot of you probably already know who I am because I’m one of the only openly gay people in this school.” Alfie sucked in a breath. He was used to that word being used as an insult, but hearing it be used so freely as a label felt… empowering. “…They called me slurs, shoved me around, made me scared to come to school. Most of all, they made me feel like I was the problem.” Alfie saw himself in those words. He didn’t think he’d related to anything more.
It felt like Alfie was the only person in the room. Like Charlie was speaking directly to him. “But I wasn’t. The problem was the culture of bullying that existed in this school. Guys often struggle with mental health ’cause we keep our feelings to ourselves. We have to brush everything off as banter and pretend we feel okay when we don’t. Pretend that being made fun of or laughed at or kicked or punched or whatever isn’t scary or upsetting or… Pretend it isn’t fucking shit.” Some people chuckled, but Alfie stayed as still as a statue. He held his breath for Charlie’s next words, not caring about the people around him. The same people that made him feel like shit for being himself.
“I want to be head boy to end the culture of bullying at Truham. I wanna destroy the homophobia that made my life hell. I want to make it easier and safer to exist in this school no matter who you are. So, if you want that too, I hope you’ll vote for me.” The crowd burst into applause. Some people even stood up to cheer. But Alfie stayed seated. He was lost in his thoughts. Never once had he wanted something more than to be free to exist as himself. Without judgement. Charlie was truly amazing.
They walked out of the gymnasium in a crowd of hormones and laughter. Charlie’s friends began cheering his name, and Alfie saw Nick plant a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek. Alfie and Connor walked to lunch in silence. Alfie always ate under a tree near the gate. He had seen Connor sit at the lunch table with his friends. Hell, he’d even drawn him there once. Or twice. Okay, it was a few more times than that, but no one needed to know. Especially not Connor.
“Are you going to sit with your friends?” Alfie asked. Connor had followed him to the tree he usually sat at. Connor shrugged.
“They like to play on the field usually. After we eat, of course. And I’ve always thought this tree looked pretty… serene. Maybe that’s just because of you.” Alfie set his things down and settled into place, his back against the bark of the tree. Was that… flirting? Did he just get flirted with? Alfie had never been flirted with before. It probably wasn’t flirting. Connor wouldn’t want to flirt with him. Yes, this most definitely wasn’t flirting.
“I’m pretty boring, though. I don’t usually do much during lunch.”
“I’m sure you’re not boring,” Connor said. “And you do plenty of stuff. You draw, you eat, what more do you need! Anyways, the lads were gonna have a rugby match during lunch. It’s not my favorite sport, I mean, I don’t hate it, but I’m not a very fast runner. Or a very good tackler. Or kicker. Come to think of it, I may just suck at rugby.”
Alfie laughed, “You don’t suck, I’m sure of it. And even if you did, you’ve got plenty of other stuff going for you.” Connor raised his eyebrows and chuckled.
“Oh really?” He laughed, “Like what else?” Okay. That felt like flirting. It shouldn’t have been though. No way. He refused to believe it. He could feel the heat in his face. This wasn’t how the other lads teased him. This was… something else entirely.
“Um, well.” He cleared his throat. “I mean. You seem really smart and kind and cool. And, well, I’ve heard plenty of the Higgs girls talking about the cute blond in year 9.”
“Aw, you think I’m cute?” Connor fluttered his eyelashes at Alfie. They both grinned. Alfie shoved Connor’s shoulder.
“Shut up, it’s just what the girls say,” Alfie said.
“Sure. But you think that too. I just have that charm factor. Some might even say…” He sat up, trying to swallow a smile. “Confidence. Charisma. Sex appeal.” Alfie almost spit out his food. That was not what he was expecting. Connor laughed, bright and strong, mostly at Alfie’s reaction.
“I really don’t get why he said that.” Alfie said past the laughs.
“It’ll be his fault when no one votes for him,” Connor said. He took a sip of his water. They kept talking for a while in between bites of their lunches. After a little bit, two older kids started walking toward them. Both Connor and Alfie knew exactly who they were.
“Hey, lads! You’re gonna vote for Harry, yeah? Better food in the canteen!” Harry’s friend said. Harry grinned holding a poster with his face on it. Connor and Alfie looked at each other and tried desperately not to laugh.
“Totally. We’ll definitely vote for Harry.” Connor’s voice was laced with so much sarcasm, it practically floated in the air. The boys didn’t seem to mind, though. They just moved on with a sour look.
Connor turned back, and Alfie laughed loud, belly laughs. They didn’t see the boys that came up behind them.
“Aw, look lads, Alfiella found her prince.” They laughed. Alfie looked down, deciding the ground was looking rather interesting. “Connor’s taking pity on the gay boy. Don’t you feel so good about yourself, Connor?” Connor looked between Alfie and the boys. His gaze hardened when he saw Alfie’s eyes glazed over, tears ready to fall.
Connor stood up, “Do you ever shut up, Wyatt? You used to be nice, then you get the tiniest bit popular and you decide you’re a prick. I’m not friends with Alfie out of pity. I’m friends with him because he’s a genuinely good person. Unlike you. So fuck off.” Wyatt stood there flabbergasted. I doubt he’d ever been told the truth like that before.
“But you didn’t even—” Wyatt tried to say.
“Go.” Connor pointed in the direction of the tables. Alfie’s mind was still whirring. Connor had called him a friend. A good person. He’d never had a real friend before. So this was how it felt.
The boys left and Connor sat back down. Alfie was smiling sadly. He didn’t want Connor to feel like he had to protect him. Alfie shouldn’t have needed his protection. But Alfie had to admit, the slight growl in his voice when he told them to go was… undeniably attractive. God, what was he even thinking.
“If they bother you again, tell me. I can deal with them.” Alfie drew a pattern in the dirt by his feet. “What’s wrong?” Connor asked.
“What?” Alfie was snapped back into reality.
“Something’s wrong. Tell me,” Connor said. Alfie could hardly believe they had only started talking today. It felt like they’d been friends forever.
“I just—you don’t have to fight my battles. I can do it myself.” Connor’s eyes went wide.
“Oh. I just. You weren’t saying anything and… Lord knows I hate bullies. I just thought I could help. I’m sorry if I upset you.” He took another sip of his drink. Alfie smiled.
“No, it’s fine. I just don’t need you to do anything for me. Like, you’re not required to do anything. I don’t want you to do anything that will make you uncomfortable just because you’re my friend. I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”
Connor’s hand settled on top of Alfie’s where he was still tracing patterns in the dirt. He breathed in. “I want to.” There was a moment of tense silence where they just looked at each other. Searching each other’s faces for anything that would tell them no. Any hesitation at all.
Alfie broke the moment by pulling his hand away. He smiled. “Thank you.”
~*’*~
- Friends
Alfie didn’t know what had happened at lunch. His mind was one great big gay blur. He got in the line to vote for the head boy. He, of course, was going to vote for Charlie. When it was his turn in line, he marked the name as fast as possible, not wanting to hold the line up, and slipped it into the box.
The next day, when he heard that Charlie had won, he couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest.
He ate with Connor again that day. He liked having the company. He’d never had anything like it before. Alfie wasn’t sure why Connor had suddenly taken a liking to him, but he didn’t mind in the slightest.
Alfie sometimes saw Charlie in the hallways, his new head boy pin on his jacket. About a week after he was put in the position, Alfie found him pinning a poster about stopping bullying on the bulletin board. He stopped in his tracks. Charlie turned around and cocked his head to the side. Alfie fiddled with his coat. The bell rang above them.
“Hey. You okay?” He asked. Alfie gulped. Charlie had never talked to him before. Alfie looked up to Charlie. When he came out, Alfie felt a little less alone. Like maybe, just maybe, he could do that too. “Did you wanna talk to me about something.” For a second, Alfie considered telling him about the boys who bullied him. The boys who pretend to be his friend only to turn their backs and call him slurs. Instead, he ran back down the hallway he came from.
He felt extremely pathetic as he walked to lunch. Connor was already sitting at the tree, staring at the apple in his hand. He didn’t have his usual grin on his face. This was a rare moment where Connor was alone. He didn’t have to perform for anyone. All of his masks were dropped, and below was the ugly creature Connor didn’t want to battle.
Connor stared at the food in his hand. He was hungry. He knew he should eat. There was a voice in his head that told him not to eat. If he didn’t eat he could wither away. He could die under this tree. Maybe he could get Alfie to make a plaque. Here lies the boy no one ever noticed.
“Hey, you!” Alfie called amicably, unaware of the turmoil in Connor’s head. Connor grinned, praying it reached his eyes. He took a bite of his apple, hating the texture of chewed food in his mouth. If he didn’t think about it, he could eat long enough to keep breathing.
“Hey!” Connor called back with a wave of the apple above his head. Alfie sat down next to him and got his own lunch out. He was still embarrassed about his interaction with Charlie, but when he was with Connor, it didn’t feel as bad. Nothing did.
“How was your day?” Alfie asked. He popped open his crisps pack and placed one on his tongue. The salt mixed with the potato in a perfect burst of flavor.
“It was okay. About as good as school can be. Why do you eat those? You know they have flavored crisps, right?” Connor responded. He took another bite of his apple, wincing slightly with the way the food felt in his mouth.
“Well, yeah I know, but I like the plain ones,” Alfie said. Connor shrugged.
“If they’re so good, can I try one?” He asked.
Alfie gasped dramatically, “Have you never had a plain crisp?”
“No, I like actual flavor,” he said. Alfie offered the bag to Connor. He took a crisp and crunched it in his mouth. His eyes lit up. “Holy shit.” He took another crisp, then tried to play off his excitement. “They’re okay.”
Alfie nodded, “Yeah, I know.” He took a bite of a crisp and smiled smugly.
“I still think flavored crisps are better,” Connor clarified. Alfie rolled his eyes and offered the package again.
“Sure you do.”
~*’*~
Three Weeks Later
Alfie and Connor laughed together as they walked through the hallway. Alfie had learned a new technique in art class, and he was explaining the process to Connor as they walked to their next class. He had his smaller sketchbook open to his practice page. Connor didn’t seem to understand anything he was saying, but he was supportive anyway. They were stopped when a hand pulled the book out of Alfie’s grip.
“Hey, Alfie,” Wyatt said. Connor’s hands balled into fists. He watched Alfie carefully. Alfie nodded him down the hallway. I’ve got this, he mouthed. “Whatcha readin’?” Heat rose in Alfie’s cheeks. Wyatt, of course, hadn’t cared to check the cover which very clearly read “Alfie’s Sketchbook”, but then again, Alfie was having very serious doubts about whether or not Wyatt could read. So he played along.
“A book. Ever seen one?” A small crowd gathered around them. Alfie saw Wyatt’s cheek twitch. He held the book out of Alfie’s reach. Alfie didn’t want to jump to reach it. That would be pathetic.
“I’m not sure about this, Alfie. I thought we were friends, but apparently you’re just another queer like Connor. Soon this school will be crawling with gays. Hell, it already is, even the head boy is one of them. He turned the rugby captain gay too. I wonder how many more of you there are.” He held the book still over Alfie’s head.
“Give me my book back, please.” Alfie said, trying as hard as he could to stay calm. He didn’t want to get in trouble today. He never did, but trouble seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Wyatt paused, seemingly thinking.
“You know what’s more fun?” He asked, then tossed the book to his friend, Luke. They tossed it back and forth.
“Give it back!” Alfie pleaded. The boys laughed, their friends jeering and joking.
“Oi!” A voice shouted. The boys turned toward the sound and Alfie took the chance to pick his book up from where it fell on the floor. “What do you think you’re doing?” Charlie asked. The Charlie Spring. He was coming to save Alfie.
“We were just mucking about,” Luke said.
“Yeah, it’s just banter,” Wyatt added. Charlie focused on him. He stepped forward, passing Alfie. He leaned down to reach the shorter boy’s level.
“It doesn’t look like banter. It looks like bullying.” Charlie addressed Luke as well, “Leave. If I see you picking on anyone else again, I’ll get you suspended.” Alfie clutched his sketchbook to his chest. The boys started to look worried.
“You can’t suspend us,” Wyatt said.
Charlie tilted his head slightly and lowered his voice, “Try me.” Wyatt gulped, and the bully and the head boy stared at each other for one tense moment before Wyatt scoffed and left with his friends.
Charlie immediately turned his attention to Alfie. “You okay?” He asked. Alfie nodded, wishing he had let Connor help him.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Alfie wasn’t sure if that was the truth, but it could be.
“Those boys aren’t gonna pick on you again, okay?” Charlie reassured him. He tilted his head a little.
Alfie sighed, “They might.” Charlie gave a soft chuckle to that.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
“Alfie.” He said. For some reason, he felt more confident in this space with Charlie. Mybe it had something to do with their like spirits. Shared experiences. But he knew he could be himself right now.
“Hi, Alfie. I’m Charlie.”
Alfie nodded, “I know.” Charlie smiled softly. If Alfie looked hard enough, he could see his reflection in Charlie’s wide eyes.
“If they pick on you again, come talk to me. I’ll sort them out, okay?” Alfie matched Charlie’s smile. He was still a little wary from the very near fight that had just happened. He’d always been scared of talking to people in power about his issues. In his experience, whenever he told an adult or someone in charge, everything just got worse. But he figured he could make this promise with Charlie. He would tell him if they started picking on him. He could do that.
“Okay,” Alfie said. Charlie stood up and gave him an almost imperceptible nod. He jogged down the hallway so he didn’t miss his class. He didn’t make it all the way to his class, though, before a familiar voice whispered to him.
“Alfie!” Connor called. He poked his head through the crack of a door that led to a storage closet. He waved Alfie in erratically. “Come on!” Alfie looked around the empty hallway and slipped into the storage closet with Connor.
“What is it?”
“Mrs. Donnell is giving us a pop quiz,” Connor whispered. Alfie threw his head back and groaned. Connor looked at Alfie with stars in his eyes.