"Do you want to meet Ginger later?" Will asks when we're sat in our maths class, waiting for Mr Peters to arrive.

"Your dog?"

"That's the one," he confirms.

I smile as I doodle on my page. "Sure."

"Sweet. I've told him all about you."

I recoil my head and finally glance over at Will, noticing the grin that pulls on his cheeks. "You've told your dog about me?"

"Yep. Gotta keep him posted."

When my laughter comes out a lot louder than intended, I cover my mouth and try to stop my shoulders from bouncing. The whole class stares as I struggle to keep my laughter in. Will, on the other hand, has no problem with allowing everyone to hear his racket. He laughs even louder than me with no shame coating his face.

"Settle down," Mr Peters bellows, strolling into the classroom where he sets his briefcase on his desk. His eyes trail over the class, seeming much softer than they usually are.

Will scoffs and lets a scowl take over his face.

"Get ready for the most boring hour of your life," Will mumbles.

I hide my smirk with my hand, trying my hardest to not irritate Mr Peters, especially after I found him crying last week. Although he's moody and he picks on everyone, I can't help feeling a little sorry. Who knows what goes on in his life? Either way, it's no excuse to punish us.

Usually when Will makes a comment or quietly insults Mr Peters, I ignore it. Usually it's because I'm in a low mood and have no effort to simply crack a smile. Today, however, I feel on top of the world. I feel the best I've felt in a long time.

It won't last. This has happened plenty of times before. So much to the point that I know for a fact it will pass by in a day or so.

"Here are your test sheets. No talking to anyone. No cheating. No phones. If I see any of these, you will immediately fail," Mr Peters lectures us as he hands out the sheets.

"Careful, Sir. William might flip the table," Flynn taunts from the back of the room when Mr Peters reaches our desk.

Will slowly turns his head to face Flynn. If looks could kill, Flynn would be on the floor. "You better shut your mouth."

"It was a joke. Chill."

He fake laughs in response. "You're so funny."

"I know I am."

"I cannot wait till we're out of this class. I'll kick your-" Will begins to say, but Mr Peters clears his throat loudly before the threat can be finished.

"That's enough, boys."

Will slumps back in his chair and scoffs, visibly pissed off by Flynn. They've constantly been arguing back and forth all year.

"You okay?" I whisper.

Will pulls a smile on his cheeks, performing for me. "Peachy perfect."

"Ignore him. He's just trying to wind you up."

Mr Peters returns to our desk when the class is silent and focused on their sheets. He crouches down to be level with Will, and I'm so positive that he's going to lecture him over what was said. I hold my breath and prepare for Will to put up a fight and get kicked out of class.

"When you get upset, step outside and take five minutes to yourself," Mr Peters whispers, making sure our other classmates can't hear.

My lips part in shock that Mr Peters is willingly helping Will. I begin to wonder if it's because of the chat I had with him last week. But surely it can't be? No teacher would actually listen to a student who's telling them how to do their job. Would they?

I'd be surprised if that is the case.

"I wasn't upset," Will snaps defensively.

Mr Peters sucks in his cheeks, trying to calm himself. "I'm trying to help you."

"Why? You've never cared before."

I pretend to focus on my worksheet and write down the answers to the questions, but my hand is secretly growing closer to Will's under the desk. I feel his skin touch my fingers, and he slightly jumps at the cold feel. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that his shoulders are relaxing and his breathing is starting to slow. He entwines his fingers with mine, squeezing my hand for comfort and to check that I'm really there.

Will doesn't believe that anyone would help him. He doesn't think he deserves it.

"Just take the time if you need it. Okay?" Mr Peters says. He stands quickly, not wanting to give Will the chance to object or complain.

Will leans closer to my ear, keeping his gaze glued on our teacher. "That was weird, right?"

I shrug my shoulders, deciding not to inform him about my chat with Mr Peters where I asked if he would ease up on Will. "Maybe he's in a good mood today."

"Still weird."

"He's being nice."

"Exactly." He smirks and runs his hand through his brown curls. "Him being nice is weird."

When I don't respond and continue to get on with my worksheet, Will rests his head on the table and looks up at me, his eyes glistening beneath the dim lights. I glance over at him and lift half a smile.

My heart melts every time we make eye contact. It's always been like that.

"I wish I could be more like you," he whispers.

My eyebrows twitch, because I don't understand why he could possibly want to be like me out of all people. I'm a mess. It may not scrape to the surface, but Will knows this. He knows how cloudy and grey my mind is. It's swarmed with loud thoughts that keep me up at night and cause me to drift off into a world of my own almost all day. If I had the choice of being someone else, I wouldn't hesitate to do so. But Will wishes he could be more like me.

"You always stay so calm. Even if someone hurts you or insults you, you never yell or fight. You're just...calm. I wish I could be like that. I do try."

It took a long time for me to learn how to control my emotions and hide the ways I feel. Sometimes it's hard, because it becomes difficult to open up to others, sometimes it's a blessing for that exact reason.

With Will, however, I feel like I can tell him everything. It's so easy to open up to him, that sometimes it scares me.

"How do you do it?" he asks.

I look around the classroom. Everyone is concentrating on their tests, no one is taking any notice in our whispers. Not even Mr Peters, but he's typing harshly on his laptop, so I assume he has bigger things to deal with.

"I don't have the effort to argue. I'd rather protect myself and my peace than give a nasty person the time of day. There's no point. Spreading more hatred and anger is something I want to stray away from, so I take a deep breath and calm myself and remember that I can be better than that person. Walking away doesn't make a person weak. In fact, walking away is a lot harder. It's a strong thing to do," I explain.

"Sounds easier said than done," he grumbles.

I nod my head. "I suppose it depends on the person. But you can do it, Will. You just need to be patient with yourself."

He hides his blushed cheeks with his arms and shows off a handsome smile that always releases a cage of butterflies in my stomach.

"By the way," he whispers, sitting up to look under the table. "Nice trainers."

I circle my foot to show it off. "They don't rub on my ankle."

"Good. I'm glad."

We share a long smile together, both longing to be in the other's arms and feel another's touch. We crave to have that feeling of safety that spills through us when we know the other is near. It's almost magical. Just like the situations I always read about in my books. Now I'm living in one. Sometimes I think it's all one big dream that I'll soon wake up from. I'll open my eyes and return to early September on the first day back to sixth form. My body shivers at the thought of none of this being real, even though I know it is.

The moment doesn't last. Mr Peters, even though he seems in a lighter mood and is starting to change his ways, is still his old self. He calls out Will and I in-front of the entire class, accusing us of flirting; embarrassing us.

This time, Will does not answer back. He takes a deep breath, puts his head down, and gets on with his work.

* * *

I park my car outside Will's house. He doesn't have a garage or a driveway, so the only option is to park on his street like his neighbours do.

As I'm releasing my seatbelt and preparing to open my car door, Will quickly holds my hand to stop me. I'm smiling when I look over at him, but that smile quickly drops when I notice his panicked expression.

"My brother might be home. Just ignore him if we see him," he warns me.

I remember when I first started talking to Will. He told me his brother's name was Klaus, and I said I liked the name, but Will looked horrified by my compliment. He's spoke about his brother on other occasions, but it's never anything good. His brother insults him, causes arguments, gangs up on him, treats him like vermin.

I could never imagine being like that towards my siblings. We're all quite close, mostly because the emotional abuse from our father pulled us closer together. We understand each other in that aspect, only having one another to vent to about the situation. Sean and Amy often vent about it. I usually just sit there and listen. Even if they were to ever do anything bad to me, I wouldn't argue back or even dare to insult them. I hate confrontation. I hate the thought of someone being mad or upset with me. Just the thought makes my stomach cramp and keeps me up all night.

"Okay," I finally reply after dazing off for a moment. Will has grown used to my silent moments that I take to myself while I think over everything. He sits and waits patiently for me to return to reality, and then he smiles because he finds it adorable.

He leads me inside and gives me the chance to look around. There's a dinning room on the right, shown off in the open while I walk through the hallway. There's a glass cabinet that is filled with pictures and trophies and other ornaments. I examine them all. I immediately notice that every single medal, certificate and trophy is all awarded to Klaus Stanley. None to Will. Most of the photos are Klaus' school photos, Klaus shaking hands with other people as he accepts his awards. Klaus, Klaus, Klaus. And only two of Will. One of Will in his first year of primary school, and one in the family photo. They're all smiling...except Will. In fact, he looks the lowest I've ever seen him. His hood is up, deep bags under his emotionless eyes, his hands shoved in his pocket, his lips in a straight line. I gulp and quickly look away, not able to stand the sight of Will that way. I can only imagine how much he was struggling in that time of his life.

He takes me to the kitchen and grabs two oranges. One for him and one for me. I peel it when we walk into the living room. A verbal gasp can be heard from my mouth when I see the shredded up sofa.

"Ginger had a field day chewing that up," Will sighs.

"Your dog did that?"

"Yep. Looks good, right?"

I cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing, but when Will lifts a smirk in my direction, I can hardly contain myself. We both look back at the sofa and snort out with laughter.

"That's so bad," I gasp, still chuckling as I drag my hand across the sofa and touch the stuffing that is hanging out of it.

Footsteps running down the stairs echoes through the house, alerting us that we have company. A golden retriever suddenly bounces around the corner, wagging his tail aggressively when he sees Will. He jumps up and licks Will's face, whimpering because he's so happy to see him.

My heart warms at the sight.

"Hey, boy," Will greets him in this voice I've never heard before. It only makes me smile wider. "Look who I've brought home to meet you."

Ginger changes his focus to me. I worry that he'll growl or won't approve, but it only takes one second because he jumps over to me and almost pushes me off my feet.

"Hi, Ginger," I say in a high pitched voice. I pet him and itch behind his ears. "He's so sweet," I say to Will.

"He's the best," he agrees. "Dog's my soulmate."

I giggle when Ginger licks my cheek, slobbering all over my face. Using my sleeve to wipe it off, I grimace my face and try to hold myself up against his strength.

"Down, Ginger. Calm it," Will says in a sterner voice.

Ginger complies, sitting and wagging his tail that whacks the floor beneath him with force. Will finds a toy to give him, and then we sit down on the sofa together and spend time with him.

"Just saying, I don't bring just anyone to meet Ginger," Will tells me.

"Really?"

He grins. "Yep. They've always gotta be special, you know? Ginger's very important to me, so I've got to be sure that the people I bring home to meet him are people I'm going to have in my life for a long time."

My body tingles and my eyes widen.

Will thinks I'm going to be in his life for a long time. He wants that.

I want it, too. I hope this last for a lifetime. I don't ever want to go back to being strangers after all we have been through together. I never want him to be a stranger.

I don't want to imagine a life that Will isn't a part of.