At school the next morning I'm sitting at my usual table, and I start texting Charlie. I want to ask him if he wants to hang out again. I've just finished typing my message when Imogen comes over to me. I flip my phone over so she can't see the screen, although I'm not sure why. She asks me who I'm texting. "Your mum," I say with a smile while putting my phone into my pocket. She teases me, asking whose DM's I've slid into, the whole crowd makes whoops and laughs. I don't say anything, and after a moment they all move on. I don't know why my message asking my friend to come round my house suddenly felt so private, but I do know that when Imogen walks away I delete the text without sending it.

That afternoon while the rugby team is playing a match, and Charlie is standing as reserve on the sidelines, I see him talking to his friend Tao Xu. The tall boy stands beside Charlie and they're both looking out at us. I turn my focus onto the game and in the end we win the match. I call out to Charlie to come celebrate with the team, but Charlie's face is drawn and sad. I wonder what Tao said to him to make him look like that. I'll ask him later. A few of the boys clap me on the back so I get back to the rest of the team and try to take my mind off of Charlie Spring.

The next day when I get to form, Charlie's sitting at the desk. He's fiddling with his ink pen and looking more upset than I've seen him in weeks. I put my jacket down on the back of the chair and say "Hey". Charlie gazes at me with big sad eyes and I almost want to ask him if he needs a hug, because it really looks like he could use one. To be completely honest, so could I.

My mind is still spinning with the realisation that I might, somehow, actually like Charlie. Like, like, like him. And I'm not sure what to do with that. I mean, I haven't had any indication that he likes me. He sees me as his supportive straight friend and I'd hate to mess that all up. I'd have to be pretty full of myself to think that he would like me, just because I'm also a boy. Gay guys don't just like all boys indiscriminately. And even if he did, what would happen next? Everyone at school knows I'm straight. None of them can seem to forget that I kissed a girl, one time, three years ago. No, Charlie is my friend and I am not going to fuck that all up because I thought about kissing him once.

He still hasn't said anything, and now I'm beginning to worry that something is really wrong. "Charlie?"

"What?" he responds, looking away for a moment, and then his gaze turns back to me.

"You just … spaced out."

"Oh," he says and now I'm really concerned. He hasn't been this quiet since our first week sitting together. Is he upset with me? Did I make things weird when he was at my house? Did he notice how I was looking at him? Oh god I hope he's not mad at me or something, I don't think I'd be able to explain what's going on with me. Hell, I don't even really understand it myself.

One thing I do know is that I need to know for sure. I pull my chair closer to the desk, lean forward, and look him directly in the eyes. "What? What's up?" I ask him. His face is so serious.

He looks like he's trying to figure out exactly what he wants to say. I wait patiently, but inside I'm dying. I imagine him what he was going to say next.

"Do you think that just because I like boys I like all of them? I wanted a friend Nick, I wasn't looking for some weirdo who doesn't even know what he likes. I think if you feel that way then maybe we shouldn't be friends."

"Do you…" he starts. Then he closes his mouth and I'm waiting for him to say it, to call me out on being a creep, to tell me that we should switch seatmates, something. "Do you want to come round my house?"

He finishes his sentence and it takes me a second to process it. Do I want to come round his house? I do. I really, really do. I laugh a little with the sheer relief of knowing that I haven't absolutely ruined everything with my best friend. "Yeah, that sounds fun. Maybe you can teach me how to play the drums."

Saturday morning I take Nellie for her walk and then tell Mum that I'm heading over to Charlie's.

"Have fun sweetheart, will you be over there for dinner?"

"Yeah, probably. I'll let you know for sure later."

"Alright then, have a great day!" she says and gives me a hug before I leave.

I make the ten minute walk to Charlie's place and I still can't quite believe that he's been so close to me all these years and we've never known each other. I get to his door and take a deep breath before knocking. The door swings open almost immediately and Charlie grins at me.

"Hey!" he says, and he looks so much happier than he did in class the other day.

"Hey!" I reply with a little wave. He brings me into the house and shows me around. The rest of his family have gone out for the day but he says they should be home around five. That gives us six entire hours to spend together.

After a bit we head up to his room and I see he's got his drum kit in the corner. His room is so … him. He's got a light up sign on the wall that says "MUSIC" and shelves full of books. The posters on his walls are for old classic books and bands, there's a half drunk cup of tea on his desk. Notably, there are no fairy lights on his walls.

Maybe I'll get him some.

"So those are your drums?"

"Yeah!" he replies enthusiastically. "Go on, I know you want to try them out!"

"Yeah I do!" I laugh and sit on the little stool. I pick up the sticks and start hitting the various drums. I have no idea what I'm doing, but Charlie is laughing delightedly, so I keep on doing it. After a few minutes he says, with a chuckle in his voice, "You're terrible!"

"I'm trying my best!"

"Here, budge up, let me help." He nudges me with one hip and sits down on the stool next to me. The stool that is very much made for only one person to sit on. He's practically on my lap and I hold onto the drumsticks more tightly. We're sitting so close that our sides are touching from our shoulders all the way to our toes. Charlie reaches over and takes both of my hands in his. He uses my hands to make the sticks expertly hit the drums in a complicated rhythm. I should be watching the drumsticks, but I'm watching his face instead. It's like he's been lit up from the inside.

"Look, like this!" he says and I look down as he keeps guiding my hands to strike the drums, making a pounding beat that sounds like nothing more than my own heart right now. Can he hear it beating? Can he feel it where his arm is over my chest? Or is his heart doing the same thing right now? His hands are so warm on mine, and I can feel the calluses from his years of playing drums. I look at his face again and there's a contented smile there that I don't think I've seen before. This is where he's really himself, I think. Here, in his room, with his music and his books and nobody who is going to judge or bully him.

I am so very grateful that he let me in to share this space with him.

"There, you're a pro now!" He grins, and then he looks up and meets my eyes. I think he knows I've been looking at him. His cheeks colour slightly, and I can feel that mine are pink too. He blinks at me, and then suddenly lets go of my hands and stands up with a nervous exhale that's almost a laugh.

"Erm … well … that's probably cheating …" he says before walking to the other side of the room, his hand gripping the back of his own neck in a nervous gesture.

I look back at the drums. I am so confused.

A little while later we're in his living room doing our schoolwork. He suggested I bring mine over so he could give me a hand with the maths stuff if I needed it. It's been an hour of us working together in near silence. I'm sprawled on my back on his couch, and I lay my book on my chest and turn my head to look at him where he's been sitting on the floor beside me. "Charliiiiiiie!"

He's hard at work on some maths that seems really complicated. How is he in a higher maths class than I am when he's in the year below me? "Yeah?" he asks in a distracted tone.

"Are you done yet?" I'm done. I'm very done wasting the time we've got together today on schoolwork. Too bad it's not snowing again. "Homework is BORING."

He snickers and gestures with his pencil "I've still got three more questions to-"

I snatch his notebook out from in front of him. He reaches up to get it from me, but I've got the height advantage.

"Hey!" he laughs. "Give that back!"

"No way, NERD" I tease, holding the notebook out of his reach. He jumps and grabs it with a wicked laugh and I cry out, "NOOOOO unfair!"

He holds the book against his chest and I wrap my arms around him from behind, grabbing at it from both sides. "Oh no, no you don't," I say from over his shoulder. I could kiss his neck right now, it's right there. But he twists and turns and after a few moments we're both down. I roll at the last moment and then he's under me on the living room floor. I'm kneeling over him, my knees on either side of his hips, my hands planted on the carpet just under his shoulders. We're both breathing hard, and I'm looking down into his face. I notice then, in a way that I haven't really before, that Charlie is beautiful. I mean, I know I've looked at him, and I've always known that he's nice looking, but his curls have gone all wild again, and his dimpled cheeks are flushed, and he's got the loveliest smile on his soft full lips, and I REALLY have to get ahold of myself right now.

"Why are you so strong?" he asks, a little breathless, looking up at me from the floor.

I smile. "I'm not strong, you're just small."

"It's your fault for being a rugby lad."

"Excuse me?" I say in a mock exasperated tone. "A 'rugby lad'?"

"Yeah!!"

I start poking at his cheeks and ribs gently with one finger, talking to him like a cliche rugby lad, teasing him with silly banter. I'm tickling him a bit and he's squirming under me and laughing and god our faces are so close to each other. He grabs the hand that I was using to poke him and pulls it to the floor next to his head. "OKAY, okay stop, you win."

Why is there no air in this room?

Our eyes lock for a long moment, and then he covers his face with his other hand and gives that little nervous laugh again. I roll off of him, and every part of me that was just touching Charlie feels cold now. I wonder if he feels it too.

I try to remember what we were doing. Oh, right, schoolwork. Okay, not that. I turn my face toward his with a little grin. "Mario Kart?"

We sit on his couch and play video games for hours. His family gets home and I meet his parents, his sister Tori, and his little brother, Oliver. Oliver is thrilled to have another boy in the house and immediately asks for a piggy back ride. I let him climb onto my back and we gallop around the front room until he's giggling uncontrollably.

Tori sits on the couch next to Charlie for a while, watching me appraisingly while sipping from a glass with a straw. After an hour or so she gives me an approving look, then offers to play with Oliver so Charlie and I can go back up to his room.

Once up there Charlie plays a bit on his drums, and then shows me his favourite books. We sit together on his bed, each of us with one earbud in, listening to music on his phone. He plays his favourites for me, and I do the same for him. His parents ask if I'll be staying for dinner and Charlie says yes before I can. I text mum and let her know I'll be home late.

Charlie's parents order pizza and let us hang out and eat in the living room to watch a movie while everyone else has dinner in the kitchen and then they all go to their own spaces in the house.

By ten, Charlie and I are side by side on his couch watching a cheesy romance film. I hear his breathing, steady and even beside me, and look over to see he's fallen asleep. He's wrapped up in a blanket and his body is kind of curled toward mine. One hand extends out from the blanket, palm up, very close to me. I look up into his face, sleeping peacefully beside me. I extend my hand over his, as if to clasp it in my own. I get a few centimetres from his open hand and it feels as though sparks are extending between us. The heat from his hand is like a magnet, I want nothing more than to put our palms together, and lace his fingers between mine. I can almost feel it, and then I pull away and grasp my own blanket instead.

He looks so sweet beside me, what if I just curled my body into his and went to sleep next to him? Would we wake up in time for me to get home before mum starts worrying? Would Charlie wake up and be upset that I'd fallen asleep by his side? Would his parents freak out?

No, I need to stay awake, and I need to keep my head. I've been at plenty of mates' houses when they fell asleep during a movie. I usually finish the movie then wake them when I'm headed home. They've done the same at my house.

I look back at the screen. The couple we've spent the last hour watching are now kissing passionately. I look back down at Charlie's open hand. I hold my hand near his again and the electric draw of him is almost too much. I move my hand away and try to focus on the movie.

I'm successful with one of those things. I don't actually hold Charlie's hand, but when the ending credits to the film start blaring I'm surprised because I haven't been paying attention to it at all. Charlie blinks at the sudden noise and wakes up. By this time I've been snuggled up on the couch watching him sleep for at least a half an hour. I don't think I've ever seen his face look so peaceful. I know I should have woken him up, or at least not been staring at him like some kind of stalker, but it's the first time I've been able to really look at him without worrying about him or anyone else noticing my attention. I drink in the sight of him, watching his chest rise and fall, and the way he curls into himself even in his sleep, like a cat. When he wakes up he immediately turns to me, like he can almost feel me watching him.

"Huh? Did I fall asleep?" He asks a little groggily.

My head is leaned against the back of the couch, my gaze directed at him. "Yep, you missed the end of the movie," I say, and then with regret, "and I kinda need to go home."

"Oh" Charlie frowns. He gets up and wraps his blanket around his head and shoulders to walk me to the door. "I wish you didn't have to go."

"I wish I didn't either." I'm looking at him, and he's wrapped up in his fuzzy blanket, and this time I can't resist taking at least a bit of a chance. "You look so cuddly like that."

He blinks at me and there's a look on his face. Is it … could it be hope? Does he maybe want me to-

"Do I?" He asks, and he looks up at me with his big eyes, his dark curls poking out from under the blanket, and he takes a half a step closer.

"Yeah," I respond, and I honestly don't know if I even say it out loud. I take the two big steps toward him and wrap him in a hug. The electric feeling I got from his hand earlier now feels like it's flowing through my whole body. I pull him closer and hug him tightly, not painfully, just securely. I put my head in the crook between his ear and shoulder and just hold on for dear life.

Please be okay with this, I silently pray.

And then I feel his arms wrap around my back, and he's holding me tightly too, and we just stand like that forever, and for no time at all.

I have to let him go eventually. I don't want to, but I do. And when I do I feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I turn away quickly. "Okay". I laugh quietly, for no reason I can actually figure out."See you on Monday."

I walk toward the door and hear his quiet voice say "bye" as I walk out and shut the door securely behind me.

I cry the entire walk home. I'm not entirely sure why.

I get home and Mum sees me come in. She's wearing her pyjamas and has a mug of sleepy time tea in her hands. "Nicky?" she asks, "Did you have a good day?"

I turn my face so she can't see that I've been crying. "Yep" I say, and my voice catches a bit on the single word.

"... you okay?" she asks with concern. I love my mum so much. I love that she knows when there's something wrong, and that she wants to help me if she can. I don't think she can help me with this though.

"Yep. Fine." I say before hanging my coat and heading up the stairs to my room. I need some time to think. I need to figure out what is happening to me.

I sit on my bed and my mind replays highlights of the day. It's like I can still feel Charlie sitting beside me, holding my hands while we play his drums. I think of him beside me on the couch, all cozy and snuggled up in his blanket and I wish I'd been brave enough to take his hand, just to see what it was like. I think of us hugging before I left his house, and how I wanted that feeling to never end.

Alright, I decide, enough of this Nicholas Nelson. What do you do when you're not sure of something? You research. Obviously.

I change into my comfiest pyjamas, grab my laptop, and settle into my favourite place to do research, my beanbag chair. In the dim glow of my fairy lights I take a breath and open my laptop. I pull up the Google search page … now I just have to figure out what to ask. It's not like I can say "hey Google, am I gay?"

Can I?

I type "am I gay" into the search bar just to see what comes up. Suddenly my screen is filled with buzzfeed quizzes and links to sketchy websites with various questionnaires I can fill out. Well, that's a bit overwhelming, isn't it?

I start typing into the search bar again. This time I type "how to tell if you're gay" to see if there are more … I don't know, like official websites? Something more psychology based and less, you know, whatever all of those other links were. I spend hours reading. There are dozens of coming out stories. A ton of people talking about how they've known they were gay since they were small. Lots of information on important mental health resources for queer teens and horrifying stories of queer people who were hurt, bullied, or worse, by homophobic bigots.

It's all very interesting, and it helps me understand some of what Charlie has been through, but none of it really seems to describe what I've been feeling. Back to the starting board it is.

I type "I like girls but now I like a boy????" into the search bar and my finger hovers over the enter button. But I can't do it, I can't bring myself to hit the key that would complete the search. Instead, I shut my computer, get into bed, wrap myself up in my blanket, and cry myself to sleep.

Dear Nan,

Winter is ending and everything feels like it's changing. Or, at least, I feel like I'm changing. Have you ever made a new friend and their very existence makes you question everything you've ever known about who you are? How do I know which one is true, the person I've always been? Or the person I think I'm becoming?

I know what you'll say, as long as I keep being a good friend and taking care of Mum then it doesn't matter what else I am, but I've been feeling so confused. Is this just what it's like to be a teenager? Do we all go through this and just not talk to anyone about it?

I remember you said when you met grandad that you were around my age, what was it like? Did you know right away that he was the man you were going to spend your life with? How long did you know him before you started dating?

Don't worry, I haven't decided to run off and get married, I've just got a lot of things on my mind and I wonder if I'm going through normal teen stuff or if there's something … not wrong with me exactly. Just, different? Different from who I've been. Different from who I always thought I would grow up to be.

It's not a bad difference, just unexpected, and I'm not sure what to do next.

I suppose I'll just keep the things you've taught me in mind, and I can't go wrong. Be kind. Be thoughtful. Be sincere. Be the kind of friend I wish I had. I can do all of those things, and maybe doing them will help me figure out who I'm going to be next.

Thank you for always being there for me. I love you so much!

Nicky