Author's Note: Thankyou so much to everybody who has already read chapter one; twenty eight views overnight is a big thing for me XD My apology for the lack of Catrick-ness in the last chapter, but I kind of believe that the dorky, slow relationships with a build up are generally sweeter:3 I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'd really appreciate any comments that you may have on what you would like to happen :3

The ball was flat, Carl had noticed fairly quickly after beginning to play with it. And, annoyingly enough, had a strong, distinct smell of piss to it. It was more for that reason than the actual soccer game that he actually continued to kick it towards Patrick. For a few minutes now, the two boys had been kicking the soccer ball back and forth in a kind of mutual silence. There wasn't a lot to talk about now; no big events had taken place around the prison, and they hadn't been given any new comics for a while.. what else was there to talk about these days? Eventually, Carl sighed, stopping the ball with his foot as it rolled to him once again, and then looked over at Patrick.

"You ever play soccer at school?"

The older boy looked over and shrugged a little, Carl watching as he pushed up his glasses before speaking.

"I wasn't exactly the most social kid."

The boy nodded, looking down at a ball for a second, then kicking it quickly to Patrick, who jumped slightly as it hit his leg with a little force.

"Scared of the ball, Cinderella?"

"Shut up."

Carl grinned, a little entertained at this, and watched him get the ball from a metre or two away.

"What were you like at school, then?"

... ... ... ... ... ...

At the question, Patrick looked up, only glancing down again to pick up the ball. At school, he had been a geek. A computer nerd. Whatever. Comics, sci-fi shows, alien research.. it was all his sort of thing; it interested him, he would happily admit, regardless of the fact that it hadn't gotten him the best reputation. He was good with computers, too, not that that would have much of an effect on anything anymore. Though he wasn't popular, he never really got bullied either. Called a geek once or twice before. A nerd. A boffin. Nothing that bad,though. And he spent a lot of time alone; he preferred it that way. Rather than explaining all this, he just shrugged.

"I liked comics. Sci-fi stuff." He said simply, not going into detail as he dropped the ball in front of him once again, touching it lightly with his foot to keep it still before kicking it over to Carl. "What about you?"

The younger boy stopped the ball, as the pair of them had both done a fair few times now, and began pushing it from foot to foot. Patrick just watched; he could imagine what Carl was like at school fairly easily. One of the popular kids; always with a group of friends, playing soccer or something, though perhaps not an asshole as a fair few kids like that often seemed to be.

"I was a people person, I guess."

That confirmed it, then, Patrick thought with a slight nod, pushing up his glasses and looking at Carl's face rather than the ball now. The other boy was concentrated solely on the ball, dribbling it in small circles on the spot. It was kind of sweet how focused he was. It was a minute or two before Patrick spoke again, though his voice was a little quieter. "Bet you got all the girls, right?" Although he wasn't jumping at the chance to hear about his past girlfriends, he also didn't want the conversation to die out into a pool of awkwardness once again.

Still looking at Carl's face, Patrick noticed him think for a second before slowly stopping the ball and glancing up again, which left Patrick's gaze to drop to the floor; he had been staring again. "Not really." Carl's voice was quiet, too, he noticed as he kicked a pebble along, listening a lot more carefully than the other boy would have thought. "I just.. wasn't all that into girls, you know?" At that, Patrick's heartbeat practically doubled at once. He looked up, a little too quickly.

"You weren't?"

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Carl flooded a bright shade of red. Shit. He had made a damn fool of himself, that was pretty clear, and in front of Patrick. Saying he wasn't into girls? Weren't girls what teenage boys were supposed to talk about?

"I.." He swallowed, looking down at the ball again and shaking his head. "I'm sorry.. I'm going to go back to my cell." After hesitating for a second, he kicked the ball towards Patrick again, turning before quickly beginning to walk in the direction of his cell block. Although he did hear a "Carl, wait-" from behind him, he didn't bother with stopping. Sure, Carl trusted Patrick, and the older boy didn't seem like one to randomly start being an asshole. But he had only known him for, what? Two, three months? People could easily turn out to be the opposite of what you expected, he knew that much. When he was called by Patrick, the pace at which he walked only sped up, not feeling that it would be a fun topic to go into further conversation about. Eventually, the boy found himself in his cell where he just dropped onto the bed, laying on it with a slight groan. Patrick's reaction.. he seemed so..surprised. It wasn't, Carl guessed, something that particularly mattered anymore- there were no girls, nor boys, around his age at the prison, excluding Patrick, and the majority of the world was probably dead anyway. It hadn't been something that the boy had really thought about since the world ended, but he was gradually beginning to enjoy being with Patrick more and more and.. dang it; he was beginning to think he had a 'crush', as people used to call it when he was at school. Yes, that was right;

Carl had a crush on Patrick.