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Nick ran off the pitch with the other Truham boys, but when they headed for the locker room and the showers, he went to find Coach Singh. "How's Charlie?"

"I think he'll be fine. It looked worse than it was."

"Can I look in on him?"

"Of course."

Nick knocked on the door of the nurse's office before opening it. Charlie was sitting on the exam table, holding a bloodied tissue to his nose.

"Hey," Nick said softly.

"Hey."

"Is your nose okay?" He closed the door behind him.

"I don't know."

"Let me see." Nick crossed the room and sat down next to Charlie, taking the tissue away and studying his nose. "It looks fine."

"Cool."

"You've got some mud on your face, though." He took a tissue from the box on the table and began gently wiping the mud off Charlie's cheek. It was such a small thing he could do for him, when he wanted to do so much more. If only …

"Um, sorry …" Charlie began.

"What?"

"I'm really sorry for being all clingy and annoying. I'm making this so awkward."

Nick was confused. Charlie had been anything but clingy, and the only one making things awkward was Nick. He hated that he was making Charlie doubt himself.

"You wanted to keep us a secret and I'm messing it up," Charlie continued.

"I'm the one who should be saying sorry." He looked at Charlie, trying to find the words for how badly he felt about … everything that had happened today, and the whole situation, but before he could, the door opened. Startled, Nick and Charlie both turned toward the door. It must have been obvious something was going on between them, given how close they were sitting.

Charlie's friend Isaac stood there, staring at them. "Uh … Sorry for, um, interrupting, but Mrs. Singh told me to give you some … antiseptic wipes." He put them down, smiling awkwardly. "Okay." And he was gone, but so was the moment.

Nick stood up. "Um … I'd better go."

"Okay." As Nick reached the door he heard Charlie behind him. "Isaac won't say anything."

He stopped, wishing he had the words for how much he didn't care whether Isaac said anything—wishing it was true that he didn't care. "Yeah," he said finally. "Okay." And he left.

Nick ignored the complaint session going on in the locker room, all the lads grousing about the way the game had gone, and went straight to the showers, letting them think he was upset about losing the game so badly. The shower washed the mud off him outside, but he still felt muddy inside. Confused, and cold, and lost.

By the time he left the locker room, the rain had stopped. At least that was some relief.

All the rugby lads were hanging about outside. As Nick exited, wanting nothing more than to go home and cuddle his dog, he saw Imogen waiting there with the others. She smiled at him.

"Oh. Hey." He smiled back.

"Hey!" She was looking at him like she had something important to say.

Nick remembered suddenly that she had confessed to liking him at Harry's party, and in the time since, preoccupied with Charlie, he had forgotten all about it. It was probably too much to hope for that she might have forgotten all about it, too.

"What's up?" he asked.

"You did so good."

"Uh, I mean, the match was cancelled and we were losing anyway, but … Thanks." Imogen stared at him, and Nick realised that everyone around them had gone silent, watching them, waiting for whatever she was going to say. "What's going on?"

"I … I … wanted to ask you if, um … Like, this is really random." She laughed nervously. "But maybe we could, like, go out somewhere. Together."

There was a chorus of "ooh"s from the people around them, while Nick stood frozen. He was properly boxed in now. If he said no, he would hurt and embarrass Imogen, and she was a nice person who didn't deserve that. If he said yes, he'd be betraying Charlie. If he said no, all his mates would make a big deal out of it, and he would never hear the end of it. If he said yes, maybe they'd all leave him alone.

"Like, I guess, sort of a … date. Or something," Imogen added, in case he had missed the point.

He hadn't. "Oh. Um …"

"Go on, Nick," Harry said. Nick mostly wanted to tell Harry to piss off, but that was a problem for another time. All the others were laughing, too. If he said no, it would be so hard. He didn't know how he would explain it.

So, because he was a coward, he said, "Yeah. I guess so, sure."

"Yes, lad!" Harry shouted, laughing. He patted Nick on the shoulder, and Nick tried to pretend he wasn't utterly disgusted with the whole situation—but mainly with himself.

In form Friday morning, he and Charlie agreed to meet in the park after school. He brought Nellie, who immediately whined and pawed at Charlie's pants leg when he arrived, but, unusually for him, Charlie paid no attention to her. "I'm so sorry," he said immediately, the words falling out of his mouth. "I messed everything up and it's okay if you don't want to see me anymore because—"

"Wait, what?" Of all the things Nick wanted, not seeing Charlie was the last on the list. He put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Charlie, that's not— That's not it at all. Please, don't apologise to me anymore. Okay? Just … no more sorrys."

"But—"

"It was all my fault," Nick said, desperate to make Charlie understand. "I didn't tell you about St. John's. I should have—I should have prepared you better, or made Kieran skip his stupid dentist appointment, or … I don't know. Played better, so you didn't have to be in that position."

"You can't play for the whole team, Nick."

"Sometimes I wish I could." Nick smiled at the idea. He reached for Charlie's hand. "That was a really good tackle. Or it would have been against, another school. I'm proud of you."

Charlie smiled shyly and ducked his head. "Thanks. So … we're okay?" He lifted his head and searched Nick's face.

"We're good. Really." Nick pulled him close, hugging him quickly, and then let him go.

Bending down, Charlie finally gave an impatient Nellie her pets.

"We'd better walk her now," Nick said.

"Okay."

He should tell Charlie about Imogen. But if he cancelled the date, which he had every intention of doing, then there wouldn't be anything to tell. He should wait until after he'd called it off, then tell Charlie what had happened.

Thinking of Imogen made Nick think about Charlie's friends, and about the glares he had gotten from Tao this morning on the way into school. He looked over at Charlie and sighed. "I don't think your friends like me very much."

"I don't think your friends like me very much, either."

"Who cares what they think? They're idiots. But your friends matter to you. It bothers me that Tao looked at me this morning like I was an awful person."

"Well, Harry did hit him in the head with a ball."

Nick winced. "You heard about that, did you?"

"Yeah. It was nice of you to try to help." Charlie took Nick's hand.

"I didn't, though. Help. I think I just made things worse. My friends couldn't stop ragging me about it."

Charlie raised his eyebrows as if to ask what else Nick had expected. "Tao just doesn't know you."

And he never would, it seemed. It frustrated Nick that he hadn't made any progress toward figuring himself out yet. He looked up at Charlie. "Why are you so patient with me? Why aren't you … I don't know, pushing me to hurry up?"

"I don't know, do you think that would help?"

Nick looked down at his shoes, not wanting to admit it. "No."

"Then that's why." Still holding Nick's hand, Charlie stepped closer to him. "I am the last person to want someone to be outed when they're not ready. I know what that's like, and I would never wish that on anyone. Much less you. However long it takes you to be sure of who you are and what you want, that's how long it takes."

"But it's not just about me. It's you, too, and not being able to tell your friends, and—"

"Nick." Charlie squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'm fine. Really."

"Are you?" Nick searched his face, looking for any sign that he wasn't being honest. He found none … but Charlie was good at hiding.

"Yes. I am."

Nick started to say he was sorry, but they had both said that to each other too often. Instead he said, "Thank you."

Charlie smiled at him. He loved to see Charlie smile.

At their feet, Nellie whined, tired of standing in one place. Both of them knelt to pet her, their hands touching in her soft fur.

Nick caught Charlie's hand in his. "Charlie."

"Yeah?"

"I just want you to know … I wouldn't change anything. Well, I mean, I might change some things, but … this. You and me. I wouldn't change that."

Charlie's eyes were huge in his face, filled with wonder. "You wouldn't?"

"No." Glancing around to make sure they were alone, Nick leaned forward and kissed him. He meant it to be quick, but it was so hard to stop kissing Charlie.

Nellie whined louder this time, anxious to get moving.

Ending the kiss, Nick smiled at her. "Sorry, old girl." He reached for Charlie's hand as they kept walking. "You want to hang out tomorrow?"

"Can't, so—" Nick gave him the "stop saying sorry" look and he caught himself. "Unfortunately. I'm having my friends over."

"Oh." Nick squeezed Charlie's hand. "Well, I'm glad you're spending time with your friends, but I'll miss you."

"Me, too." Charlie smiled.