"Quiet!"

Charlie's gaze snapped upwards at the familiar word that his form teacher, Mr. Farouk, used; he was currently sat with Nick, given that they always sat together in form, so there was a modicum of ease which passed through him at that. Isaac sat catty-corner to them, clearly a bit put off not to be able to sit with Charlie, while Imogen and Sahar sat behind them.

"Okay, um... Thank you, Mr. Farouk," Mr. Ajayi replied, always the more level-headed of the two of them. "Mr. Henderson, could you please explain to me why you've received a detention with us?"

Isaac straightened up at that. "I was the one who carved the obscene language into the desks, sir," he responded.

Mr. Farouk raised one eyebrow. "You think that making a joke about eating your own head is funny, do you?" he asked, his voice deathly calm. "That's a trait of a serious mental illness, I'll have you know..."

"We don't need to have that discuss today, Mr. Farouk," Mr. Ajayi said quickly. "Now, Isaac, I'm sure you understand why defacing school property is wrong, which is why you've been asked to serve detention today."

Isaac had the good grace to look humble. "Yes, sir."

"Good, then we're all in agreement," Mr. Ajayi said, pleased. "Now, then, detention will be served until four-thirty."

"I understand that Mr. Lange has a way of doing things," Mr. Farouk continued, "but Mr. Ajayi and I think that it's a bit too strict."

"For example, we don't mind if you want to move seats, as long as you don't disturb the others here serving detention," Mr. Ajayi put in. "You are permitted to work on assignments, or you can read quietly, either from a book you've brought, or from any of the books here." He gestured around at the shelves positioned at various points of the library.

"As for talking," Mr. Farouk said, glancing at all of them in turn, "while it is typically discouraged, we neither of us have an issue with it. We just ask that, if you do want to have conversations, but if some of you would like to do homework or read, you take them to another part of the library and don't disturb your fellow students."

"Lunchtime will be held at noon," Mr. Ajayi said softly. "We'll have snacks at nine-thirty and then again at two-thirty. If you want a snack, or lunch, and don't have anything, let either of us know, and something will be provided."

"As for lavatory breaks," Mr. Farouk said, "just let the two of us know that you're going to head over there. We don't have an issue with it, just let us know where you'll be and when."

Mr. Ajayi nodded decisively. "That's it, then, I think, unless there are any questions?" He scanned the students, realizing that they were a hodgepodge of emotions, including exhausted, regretful, ashamed, annoyed, and bored. "Well, all right, then. Mr. Farouk and I will be in the office across the hall. Feel free to let us know if you need anything," he said, and moved to leave the library, with Mr. Farouk following a moment later.

Charlie drummed his fingers upon the surface of the desk; he would typically be having a lie-in on Saturday, and then have breakfast with Tori around ten. Then, he would do homework for three hours, have lunch, and practice his drums. He would sometimes go over to Tao's for a movie day, but that had changed ever since he and Elle had become a couple. Movie days were few and far between, and Charlie couldn't understand blowing off your friends completely for your significant other...

"Are you all right?"

Charlie turned, looking over at Nick, surprised he was even talking to him. "Yeah, sorry," he said awkwardly, vaguely aware that Isaac had pulled out a book, and that Imogen and Sahar were talking quietly behind them. "Just... I don't know. Wishing I was home... Sorry," he added, thinking he'd made it awkward.

"You say that a lot," Nick observed a moment later.

"Say what?"

"That you're sorry," Nick said.

Charlie blinked. "Sorry."

"No, no S-word," Nick said quickly. "We're banning it, effective immediately."

Charlie bit down hard on his lower lip, feeling mischievous.

"Don't say it," Nick said, obviously trying not to laugh.

"I kind of want to say it..."

"Don't!" Nick said, just a bit too loudly. He hesitated for a moment, looking around. "Want to get up for a bit? Walk around the library."

Charlie blinked, but nodded his head. "Sure," he said, and waited for Nick to get up before he did, too, and they lazily made their way through the various stacks. He scanned the titles, and nodded towards one, grimacing a bit. "That one always scared me..."

Nick stepped forward, peering at the title. "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest?"

Charlie swallowed. "Yeah. That's why I've always tried to keep quiet. I don't want to end up in a place like that."

Nick looked down at Charlie, looking confused. "Why would you end up in a place like that? I mean, you're too nice..."

Charlie giggled slightly then. "I don't think it has to do with whether you're nice or not," he replied, shifting just a bit, which is when Nick saw the plaster, partially hidden underneath his jumper. "Um..." Charlie said, his tone awkward.

"I remember you coming into form with it already on," Nick put in, his tone nonjudgemental, although the worry was evident, as he turned his gaze to look at some of the other books; he didn't want Charlie to think he found him disgusting, but he also knew that it was impolite to just keep staring. "It's smaller than it was, that day..."

"Thursday," Charlie said after a moment. "I... I changed the dressing whenever I showered. I mean, sterilization is important."

Nick nodded, pulling out a book, reading the back, and returning it to the shelf. "My mom's a pediatrician, so she's always going on about that."

Charlie blinked; he didn't know much about Nick's background, just that he had a dog called Nellie, and mostly lived with his mum, who was single. "My sister, Tori, is interested in the medical field," he said at last.

"Does she know which part?" Nick asked; he knew who Tori was, as she was in the same year as Imogen was at Higgs, his year.

"I think she's mentioned adolescence and dealing with mental illness," Charlie replied. "I've been her pet project, because she's really the only one who knows what's..." He broke off, and lowered his eyes towards the desk.

"What's going on with you?" Nick guessed.

Charlie nodded, although the movement was stiff. "Yeah..."

"I was I could be close to my brother," Nick said softly, and Charlie looked up again. "His name is David, and he's at university in Glasgow, studying history. He's four years older than me, and he thinks he's very cool," he said, shaking his head. "He doesn't accept me for who I am either, but..." He shrugged. "I guess it's easier, because, one look at me, and people assume I'm this big, dumb, straight Rugby lad..."

Charlie's eyes widened impossibly at Nick's words. "You... You mean you're not...?"

"I'm bi, actually," Nick said softly, some of his tension leaving his muscles. "I've told my mum, and David knows, too, obviously... I called our dad and told him about it after we all got back from the trip to London. David said he was going to out me otherwise," he continued, wrapping his arms around himself.

"How did your dad react? He doesn't live with you, then? Or locally?"

"My dad's French, and he lives in Paris," Nick responded. "He'll only speak to me or to David in French... He did get angry, once he learned that David planned on outing me, and said that David didn't grow into the man he thought he would."

Charlie blinked. "That's something, at least," he replied.

Nick sighed. "Yeah, but he admitted that he didn't know how to deal with my sexuality. He's tried, in his own way, I guess, but David and I don't really see him together. David goes for alternating holidays from university, but I've got my mum here, plus Nellie, school, and my mates, so I'm fine staying here."

Charlie looked through the stacks of books, seeing the Imogen and Sahar were still talking, while Isaac, as usual, had his nose in a book. "I see you with Imogen a lot," he said softly.

Nick nodded. "Yeah. We hang out together almost every morning."

Charlie continued staring at her for a moment before he turned back towards Nick. "She's very pretty, if you're into that," he went on, shrugging a bit. "Lots of the students, here at Truham, and over at Higgs, think you're a couple."

Nick dragged the toe of his trainer along the library carpet. "That's because we've been very convincing on that front," he admitted.

"Oh... Oh!" Charlie whispered, eyes widening. "So, Imogen's your beard?"

Nick shoved his hands into his pockets, his body language stiffening. "Yeah. Not that I'm ashamed of who I am or anything, but..."

"But you actually want to have a normal life," Charlie said softly, smiling a bit as Nick looked up at him. "I mean, I get it. Part of me wishes that was an option for me, but it never was, not after what happened to me in Year 9."

"I hope you know I'm not like that," Nick said softly. "Like those Rugby lads. I mean, I should have tried to stop them from saying and does all that unfriendly stuff..."

"Nick, it's not like you knew me then," Charlie said quickly.

"That doesn't matter," Nick retorted, tilting his head so that it rested upon part of the bookshelf they stood beside. "You shouldn't have to put up with any of that stuff. It's absolute crap, and it's people like Harry, Sherry, and their dad that make it worse... I mean, to be honest, I wish I'd met you when I was younger."

Charlie blinked; he hadn't been expecting that. "Yeah?" he asked.

Nick sighed. "I wish I'd known then what I know now."

Charlie considered that for a moment before he gave Nick a small smile. "No being sad on the first day we have an actual, proper conversation."

Nick chuckled a bit at that. "At least Imogen knows I don't like her like that," he said softly. "I think it'd be worse if she, I don't know, fancied me or something..."

"Yeah, definitely worse," Charlie agreed.

"I guess I also wish we'd talked more," Nick said quietly. "I mean, not that your friends are terrible, but you can always use another friend... I mean, if you'd wanted to..."

"I'm glad that we can be friends now, Nick," Charlie interrupted, not wanting to make this more awkward for him. "I mean, my parents don't like animals, and hearing you talk about Nellie got me a bit jealous," he admitted.

Nick grinned. "You should come 'round my house sometime and meet her."

Charlie blinked. "Really?"

Nick nodded. "Are you free next Saturday?" he asked.

Charlie laughed a bit. "As long as I don't get blood all over a lavatory again..."

Nick's expression clouded. "Are you okay?" he asked, nodding towards the plaster. "I know you said you kept it clean and everything, but..."

"But... What's the underlying issue?" Charlie asked.

Nick sighed. "Yeah. Not to make you uncomfortable or anything, Char. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Charlie blinked, his cheeks heating up at that. "'Char'?" he asked.

Nick immediately blushed as well. "Oh! Um, wow... Sorry, that just slipped out..."

Charlie grinned. "Say it again!" he begged.

Nick shook his head. "No," he said, but he was close to laughing now, too.

"I like it," Charlie told him, pitching his voice lower, and peeking up at Nick from underneath his lashes. "It's cute."

"Okay," Nick said, clearly amused, "now I'm never going to call you that again."

Charlie laughed a bit, before lowering his eyes to the literal elephant in the room. "I got diagnosed with an eating disorder last term," he admitted, running his finger along the plaster's edge. "It's anorexia, and I also got diagnosed with OCD. I had to be an inpatient after I kept refusing to eat at home as an outpatient..."

"That's why you disappeared from school before Christmas," Nick whispered.

Charlie nodded jerkily. "Yeah. My parents didn't get it, but my therapist, Geoff, was a really nice guy. Cardigan wearing older bloke, but was really understanding. Only he and Tori really understood everything. I don't think my dad could understand, and my mum didn't want to. She is a bit difficult, my mum, always forcing me to eat, and babying me..."

"Are you still able to complete the term on time?" Nick asked.

Charlie sighed. "Yeah. I've even considered bypassing GCSEs altogether and just going straight into A-Levels. It's my sister, Tori's, A-Level year, and my parents would likely want an empty house by next year. I can't see myself ever coming back to Truham or, if I did, I certainly wouldn't come back here, or visit my childhood home."

"What would you study at university, if you followed your plan on getting A-Levels and bypassing GCSEs?" Nick asked, sounding curious.

"Something I'm good at, like maths, or drums," Charlie responded with a shrug. "But my parents think that music is more of a hobby than a practical career path. "I could compromise and go into sociology and English lit..."

"I'm planning a uni day with Imogen, and our friend, Tara, in a few weeks," he said softly. "I think you also know the other girl coming with us—Elle?"

Charlie brightened. "Yeah, I know Elle. She's dating my best mate, Tao. I love Tao, and I love Elle, but they've ignored me and Isaac a lot since they started dating last term. I mean, I don't even think they know about my relapse," he said, whispering the final part of his sentence, as he clutched at his arm, "it's been that bad."

Nick's brows furrowed together. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching outwards and gently squeezing Charlie's arm, to the point where both boy wondered if the other could hear their respective heartbeats. "Look, I... I know we really only started properly talking today, but I want you to know that you can talk to me. I'm your friend and I do care."

Charlie smiled at Nick. "Thank you," he said softly. "I'm your friend, too, Nick."

The pair of them wandered back to their desk, surprised that nearly an hour of detention had gone by. Isaac was still reading, while Imogen and Sahar were just peeking at each other. It gave Nick and Charlie both some pause, but, with Mr. Farouk and Mr. Ajayi just across the hall, they didn't want to draw attention to it, not yet. Returning to their desk, they gave each other the same wide-eyed expression, wondering what would happen.

Mr. Farouk led the charge at promptly nine-thirty, with Mr. Ajayi just behind him. They provided snacks for the five students gathered, and attempted to make small talk with them for twenty minutes. However, either they weren't morning people—even at the weekend—or just weren't interested, so, at the end of the snack period, they cleared away the rubbish and returned to the office across the hall.

"Why would they even try to be our friends?" Sahar asked, breaking the silence. "Everyone knows that the teachers are just as bad as the headmaster and headmistress..."

Charlie peeked out into the hallway, and noticed that the office door was closed. Turning back to Sahar, he replied, "That's not true. Sometimes, when things get a bit overwhelming for me, I spend lunchtime in the art room, Mr. Ajayi's classroom. I've seen Mr. Farouk in there with him, and I think they're dating, based on how they sit, look, and talk to one another..."

Imogen's eyes sparkled at that. "That's so romantic!" she cried, clutching her hands underneath her chin.

"At least they can live their truth as much as possible," Sahar put in bitterly, leading Imogen to appear chastised.

Isaac, meanwhile, looked around the library. "Be careful how you go spreading that, Charlie. I don't even want to think about if Harry or Sherry had their dad bug some rooms of the school. I would be absolutely mortified..."

Sahar turned to regard Isaac. "You don't like them?" she asked.

Isaac shook his head. "Not really, no. Harry, I mean, I've met him, I know him, so I can honestly say I'm not a fan. As for Sherry... Well," he shrugged, "I've only really heard stories and seen her around at Truham/Higgs events. I've never spoken to her, so it'd be unfair if I passed judgement."

Sahar wrinkled her nose. "I guess that's true. I really only interact with Sherry. She's a terrible excuse for a human being."

Imogen nodded slightly. "That's true..."

"Then why were you friends with her during Year 10?" Sahar demanded. "You got that boyfriend of yours, then you stopped calling me. You spent all your time with Sherry, plus that idiot of a friend of hers, Joanne Lange."

Charlie's eyes widened. "Is that Mr. Lange's daughter?" he asked.

Sahar turned to Charlie. "I think so. She's mentioned that her dad is a teacher here."

"Then, it's got to be Mr. Lange," Nick put in. "He was mine and Charlie's form teacher when I was in Year 11 and Charlie was in Year 10."

"Mr. Lange is the one who found me on Thursday, and brought me straight in to see the headmaster," Charlie said, shaking his head. "No sympathy from him. Always all-business, and he probably is close to Mr. Greene, since their daughters are such good friends..."

Isaac, who had put his book down, turned so that he was facing the conversation. "That's my fault, mate. I'm so sorry."

Charlie turned to regard Isaac. "How could it be your fault?"

"Well, Mr. Lange is my form teacher now," Isaac explained, "and I thought something was wrong when we met up with Tao on Thursday morning. You barely talked, and then you just ran out of the library. I saw you went into the lavatory, and, when I went to form, I brought up my concerns to Mr. Lange, who had the nerve to say that you were..."

"That I was what, Isaac?" Charlie asked, watching as Isaac lowered his eyes. "Look, Isaac, I won't be pissed at you, okay? Can you tell me what happened, please?"

Isaac sighed. "Mr. Lange said that you were doing it for attention, because you were jealous about Tao spending all his time with Elle..."

Charlie swallowed a wave of bile. "Oh, my god..."

"That's horrible!" Nick cried.

"How could he say that?!" Imogen demanded.

Sahar shook her head. "Bastard," she whispered.

Isaac shifted in his chair. "Well, he went to find you, and Mr. Ajayi came to cover his class. Mr. Lange didn't tell me anything afterwards, saying that I should ask you myself. But I never got the opportunity, because you hide out in Mr. Ajayi's room each lunchtime whenever it goes too much for you, and I just... I couldn't find you before class on Friday, or after school..."

Charlie sighed; he hated the fact that Isaac was clearly suffering on his behalf. "I didn't want to be found, Isaac, because I hate talking about this," he admitted, wrapping his arms around his knees, which had come up to perch just beneath his chin, mid-way through the conversation. "It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. I... Sometimes I feel like a burden, and things would just be better if I..."

Nick, greatly daring, traced the pad of his index finger along the back of one of Charlie's hands, and was surprised when the younger boy turned it over, welcoming the physical contact. "Would be better if you what, Charlie?" he asked.

Charlie wetted his lips, focusing on the ugly pattern of the library's carpet. "If I just... If I just wasn't around at all," he whispered, his voice choking back a sob.

Nick couldn't stop himself in that moment; he launched forward, wrapping his arms around Charlie, uncaring about Imogen, Isaac, and Sahar, sitting all around them. All he knew was that he needed to protect Charlie, make sure he was all right, otherwise, he didn't know what he was doing with himself. It was as if things had been black and white; however, once he and Charlie had begun the process of opening up to one another, static took over, and now, everything was in full color around him, leading Nick to the most obvious conclusion: Charlie Spring was beautiful, and had truly been the direct cause of him coming to terms with his bisexuality, all those months ago in form.

A clearing of a throat caught them off guard, and they broke apart, spotting Mr. Farouk and Mr. Ajayi, standing there. Mr. Farouk was giving the students his patented eyebrow, which lasted until Nick and Charlie moved a respectable distance away from one another. Mr. Ajayi, meanwhile, looked very pleased, as he held onto the cooling box again.

"Lunchtime," Mr. Farouk said, his tone clipped. "Mr. Ajayi and I have also decided that, after lunch, you may walk around the school, if you so choose. However, no destruction of property, or going into other classrooms, is allowed. You may walk down the hallways and corridors, or you are permitted in the lavatory. That's it."

Mr. Ajayi sighed at the man's strict rules. "Okay, thank you, Mr. Farouk," he said, and stepped forward, setting the cool box onto a vacant desk. "Now, if you've already got lunch, that's fine, but, if you want to take a look into the cool box, and pick something, there's enough for everyone to have one thing each."

Charlie watched as his form and art teachers left the library, and got out his miserable excuse for a lunch—as always, it was a peanut butter sandwich with the thinnest imaginable layer of peanut butter, on unimaginative white bread, a pitiful justification of an apple, and a relatively normal-sized bottle of water. Charlie did as he always did—he broke up the sandwich into the tiniest pieces he possibly could, before allowing himself a sample of his mess of a sandwich, chewing approximately fifty-seven times before permitting himself to swallow it.

Nick got out a large paper carrier bag, the sound of it unwrinkling itself audible in the typically silent library. Nick had a rotisserie chicken, likely bought from the grocery store, which he used a knife and fork to carve. "I make my own," Nick said softly, once he saw Charlie openly staring at his lunch. "Coach says I need protein, and they don't sell these in the shops ready-made..."

Charlie nodded. "Halfway decent business idea..."

Nick flashed him a smile. "You're right," he agreed, before delving into his bag again. He brought out a wheat baguette, Keen's cheddar, an apple, a banana, an orange, what appeared to be a fruit smoothie—which Charlie guessed contained whey, kale, and other disgustingly healthy ingredients—and a package of Chocolate Viennese Fingers.

"Go for a Tesco's run?" Charlie asked.

Nick chuckled at that. "It's the Rugby," he explained, pulling out a carton of milk, as well as a bottle of orange squash, and a gallon of water. "We have to have three meals, plus a snack in between each meal, a day. Smoothies count as meals, though, but only in between mealtimes, and I'm allowed to have one with breakfast and lunch."

"Sounds exhausting," Charlie admitted.

"It starts off that way, but you get used to it," Nick told him.

Charlie took the opportunity to look around the room; Issac had a vacuum flask, presumably of his mother's homemade roasted tomato soup; a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich; Walker's Ready Salted potato crisps; a simple green salad; two cans of coke; and two servings of chocolate custard packs. Just behind him and Nick, both Imogen and Sahar were organizing their lunches on their desk. Imogen, meanwhile, brought in what appeared to be gourmet leftovers—an apricot chicken breast, prepared in a crock-pot; grilled asparagus; wild rice pilaf; two standard sized water bottles; along with blueberries and cherries for pudding. Sahar, from beside her, had opened up a Tupperware of falafel with tzatziki, hummus and pita bread, Fattoush, and what appeared to be homemade baklava.

Charlie stared hard at his own sandwich for a moment, wondering for the umpteenth time if he should consider taking up cooking. It would certainly afford him a wider range of food options, and his parents had always told him to write down whatever he wanted on the list for the shops, which was always on the fridge's door. Nevertheless, Charlie, like always, stared at the broken pieces his sandwich for as long as he could, before he popped onto into his mouth, softening it further with a generous sip of water.

Charlie was pleased to have eaten so much of his lunch, and noticed that his fellow students had finished theirs as well. He was about to talk some more to Nick—hardly believing that someone like the Rugby king would ever talk to him—when Mr. Ajayi and Mr. Farouk returned.

"Have you all finished eating?" Mr. Ajayi asked.

There were collective nods from around the library.

"Good," Mr. Farouk replied, nodding with approval. "Now it's time for your recreation of the day. Remember the rules, please."

"No going into unauthorized spaces—like other classrooms," Mr. Ajayi said.

"Absolutely no destruction of property," Mr. Farouk said firmly, his eyebrows coming out to play, like a pair of hairy caterpillars.

"No leaving the school building, unless there is an emergency, or Mr. Farouk, or I, come to tell you it's all right," Mr. Ajayi stated.

"And please don't get lost," Mr. Farouk said, squaring his gaze upon Imogen and Sahar. "As neither of you attend Truham, ladies, I'm looking at you two."

"Have you understood the rules, then?" Mr. Ajayi asked.

Again, collective nods were made around the library.

"All right, then," said Mr. Farouk, as he gestured towards the open library door. "Go forth, and be back in an hour."