Nicholas walked morosely through the corridors, ignoring the fact that everyone else seemed to be laughing merrily and enjoying their last few days at school before the summer holidays. He hummed a nameless, melancholy tune and scuffed his feet as he walked. He had spent the morning alone. To be more precise, he had spent the past three days alone. He hadn't spoken with Sam since the night of the party and hadn't been particularly interested in seeking anyone else's company.

How was it, he had mused, that something could change so dramatically between the two of them in a matter of minutes?

He wound his way to a nearby bench and slumped onto it. The window adjacent was open, letting in a warm breeze that ruffled his hair. He fidgeted and picked at his fingernails, as he was prone to do while thinking, and became oblivious to the world around him.

What worried him the most was the nature of their relationship. Only in the most hidden corner of his mind had he ever harbored any thoughts other than a platonic, sturdy friendship with Sam, and now it seems his thoughts could go nowhere but those corners. Would he lose that friendship, now that Sam had an inkling of feelings that were deeper? He also fretted over how much Sam actually knew, and what he had guessed. Nick's almost-confession wasn't exactly a declaration of love, but it was stepping over a line that most boys their age certainly did not cross.

After a few minutes, the skin around Nick's short nails were red and raw and, in some places, slowly seeping blood. Feeling frustrated at his frustration, he got up for another walk around the grounds.

---

Ted Hopkiss. Nick narrowed his eyes. What right did he have, existing as he did? It was deplorable. Nick saw him from the opposite end of the courtyard, leaning suggestively over some boy sitting down. The boy's face was hidden by Ted's back, and the block did nothing to appease Nick's curiosity. Feigning nonchalance, he walked slowly and surely closer, angling himself to see just who was Ted's next victim.

As the boy came into a clearer view, Nick was able to distinguish some characteristics. He was tall, with tanned skin and dark, curling brown hair…

"Sam?"

Sam whipped his head up, looking obviously uncomfortable with the situation he was in, and Nick saw something akin to relief in his eyes. Nick only glared at the duo in return.

"Hopkiss," he said through gritted teeth, "do you mind? I'd like to have a word with Sam, here."

Ted turned slowly towards him, and stepped up so closely that Nick could feel the other boy's breath on his face.

"Sure thing, Sayre," he said, his tone hostile, then swiveled to face Sam again.

"We'll talk again later, alright? I'll see you around, Sam."

Sam only nodded; looking absolutely miserable and smaller than any boy his size had a right to be. Nick was torn between continuing to glare at Ted's retreating form or sitting next to Sam. Luckily for him, he chose the latter.

---

It was awkward. Five minutes had already passed in uncomfortable silence, in which Sam had looked around dejectedly and Nick had taken again to worrying around his fingernails. He felt as if he could scream, or perhaps suffocate, in the tension around them that was so very stifling. He decided, however, on a more direct approach.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he blurted, looking anywhere but at the subject. "I, well, I have no idea what else to say, actually."

Brilliant. Verbal sugar, really. Such eloquent words, how could anyone resist?

Sam only shrugged, seemingly unfazed by Nick's lack of subtlety.

"'S okay," he mumbled. "I don't really know why we're fighting, anyway."

Sam really needed to work on his lying, Nick thought. He fidgeted when he lied. His cheeks burned, showing up only slightly in a way that Nick was constantly jealous of. Now, he expected, Sam would fall into another sullen silence that he usually adopted when he lied to Nick. The guilt would well up in him until he confessed what he had been untruthful about. It was the same every time.

To his surprise, however, Sam continued talking. "Did you mean it?"

Nick looked puzzled. "What?"

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Did you mean it when you said you… cared for me? Did you mean it, you know, like that?"

Nick cursed his own fair skin repeatedly in his head. He could already feel the blush creeping up his neck, crawling behind his ears, and settling on his cheeks. They burned with embarrassment, and Nick felt it was time to make a decision. He only hoped it was the right one.

"Yes," he replied truthfully. "I care about you, Sam. More than that idiot Hopkiss ever will."

Sam still looked unsatisfied. "What am I to you, Nick?"

"A friend," Nick said hurriedly, and knew he was trying to take the easy way out. Some emotion flickered on Sam's face, and he wondered why today, of all days, it seemed impossible to lie to his dark haired companion.

"You're a friend to me, Sam. My very best. I wouldn't want to lose what we have for anything."

Sam laughed nervously. "It's only a little fight, Nick. Something we always have. Why would you lose me over it?"

"It's not the fight I was worried about," Nick said, angry at his inability to say what he was thinking.

"Well then, what was it?"

Nick hesitated. What if he was forced to spend his last year at Somersby alone? What if, after Sam realized how Nick really felt, he walked away forever? How would Nick be able to cope then?

"I wouldn't want to lose you if," Nick breathed a slow breath, but kept going as if afraid to stop, "you realized that I wanted you as more than a friend. When I said that I cared about you, Sam, I meant it. In every sense of the word. I'm – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spring this on you. I'll understand if you leave now."

Nick kept staring at the same patch of grass in front of him, and grew worried when there was only silence as a reply. Sam had yet to get up and walk away, but he also hadn't said a word since Nick's impromptu speech. Apprehensive at what he might see, Nick slowly dragged his eyes up towards the other boys face.

Without warning, Nick felt Sam's slightly chapped lips against his own, and froze in something akin to shock.

Sam pulled away and put a tentative hand on Nick's cheek, looking with honest brown eyes into uneasy blue ones.

"As if leaving had even crossed my mind."