Chapter Text
It's the first day of the second term in our school year. I go to the picnic tables outside the school gates and sit at the end of the table where all my friends are. Everyone is already forming into groups and talking amongst each other. “Alright mate?” Harry Greene says from the other side of the table. I nod in return. “Alright.” Then I start quietly listening in on the conversation he's having. Harry and Imogen Heaney are talking to each other currently. Harry is talking about some girl he managed to hook up with over winter break, and Imogen is clearly quite unamused, but she's pretending to be interested. Observing quietly is my favorite thing to do when I'm around my friends. You might think that I'm a social butterfly, being the best rugby player on the school team and being in a group with a bunch of popular rugby jocks like me, but they're all a bit too loud and problematic for me to be able to put up with them for more than 5 minutes.
My name is Nick Nelson. I am 16 years old. I like dogs, Marvel, Formula 1, my dog Nellie, and rugby. The school calls me the 'rugby king', but I think that might be a bit of an overstatement. The school I go to is one of the only two grammar schools in our small town. I go to the Truham Grammar School for Boys, or 'Truham', and the other grammar school is the Harvey Greene Grammar School for Girls. or 'Higgs'. Sometimes I think that they should just combine into one giant school. When any of the rugby boys talk about a girl from Higgs, they talk about them like they're some sort of rare mystical creature (granted, they still disrespect and objectify them), and even I used to do that when I was in year 9 and 10, but now I think that's a little creepy. I mean, they're just humans after all. I think they deserve some respect.
I'm not really interested in getting a girlfriend right now, though. I don't have my eyes set on anyone.
I go through my bag frantically and pull out a couple papers. My new form is Hamlet 5 in room B25. I start mumbling 'B25, B25' over and over under my breath so I don’t forget it. Ben Hope walks up to our table and we greet each other with a nod and a pat on the back. Then he goes to the other side of the picnic table and starts talking to another anonymous rugby boy about his Christmas. I have so many friends on the team that sometimes I can't keep up with their names. Ben is holding his phone tightly by his hip, and sometimes he occasionally brings it up to his face to check it, but he's always seemed protective about people seeing his screen. Eventually, his phone vibrates and he runs inside the building. I wonder what is on his phone that’s so private to him. Maybe he has a girlfriend.
After a bit, our principal goes on the loudspeaker and says something about our new form groups. I start mumbling again, 'B25, B25' as I make my way towards the class. When I walk in, I notice the class only has one or two students in it. I guess I've come early. I glance at my new form tutor that I'll be having for the next semester. Great. Mr. Lange. My friends say that he's really strict. I curse under my breath, then I reluctantly walk to his desk. “Well if it isn’t Nicholas Nelson! Welcome to Hamlet house.” He says in a slightly patronising tone, like he doesn't want to be here either.
“Morning, sir.” I say in an un-amused tone. “You can have a seat just over there in the back, Nick.” Mr. Lange says, pointing to a table in the corner by the window. I nod again and walk to my seat, taking my backpack and jacket off before I sit down. The only other people in the class right now are just a couple year 8s, so out of boredom, I take out my notebook and start sloppily scribbling the answers to some homework I forgot to do over break. Doing homework didn't last a while, though, because now I'm doodling endlessly on the paper. More people are walking into the class now, but I don't see anyone that I'm really friends with immediately.
After what seems like hours of waiting and scribbling endlessly on my paper, I see Charlie Spring enter the form class. I look up at him and my eyes begin to widen slightly. I don’t really talk to Charlie Spring, or know much about him at all. I know that he is in year 10, and that he is quite popular in school, and that last year my friends picked on him a lot for being gay. I never bullied him, but I didn't really.. stand up for him either. If I were to try and help anyone that my friends pick on, I would never hear the end of it. I don't care if someone's gay or straight, but my friends seem to. Mr. Lange starts talking to Charlie, and I can tell that he's also pretty unhappy to be here too. I look back down on my paper to not seem creepy.
After Charlie finishes talking to Mr. Lange, he walks up and sits right next to me. I stare at him for a second. He stares back, smiling slightly. Like he's excited to see me. Which is funny, because we've never talked before at all. I can't help but smile back, honestly. Charlie starts by saying a simple “Hi” and a dorky, wider smile. I think… I definitely want to be his friend. There's something about Charlie that makes me just know that he's fun to be around. I try to think of something witty to say, but eventually I just pathetically say “Hi” back. He looks down at his lap, and I look down onto my paper which I'd been subconsciously scribbling on this entire time. It's so full of frantic squiggles that I can't even read the homework answers anymore. I quickly glance back up at Charlie, then back down at the paper and turn a new page on my notebook.
'To-do List:
- Get holiday homework done (dont doodle this time)
- Befriend Charlie Spring'