Falling (a Heartstopper fanfiction)

Tired

Nick and Charlie were the first two out of the cinema, and Charlie couldn't help teasing Nick, just a little. "I can't believe what a wimp you are."

"Uh, you jumped at all the scares, too."

Charlie grinned. "No, I jumped when you screamed, that's all." They'd have to start watching horror movies more often if they made Nick that clingy.

Before Nick could reply, Harry pushed himself between them, slinging an arm round Charlie's neck. "So, Charlie Spring, quick question. What's it like being gay?"

The others laughed, as though somehow that was funny.

"It's fine," Charlie said, keeping his voice colourless. Harry was getting enough encouragement from his mates, he didn't need it from Charlie's protests, too.

"You don't seem that gay, to be honest. I mean, you do sound sort of gay, but that's it. Do you like musicals?"

Nick grabbed Harry's shoulder and pulled him off Charlie, pushing him back toward the others. "Harry, can you just piss off, please?"

But Harry couldn't take a hint. Or he wanted to needle Nick by annoying Charlie. Or he was just obnoxious. "What sort of guys do you like?"

"I don't know." Charlie was walking faster now, hoping if he got far enough ahead of the others Harry would lose interest in putting on a show for them.

"What about Harry Styles? He's pretty sexy."

"I guess."

"Just leave it," Nick said.

But that was a mistake, because it drew Harry's attention back to Nick. "What about Nick?" he asked. "Do you think he's hot?"

Charlie couldn't duck this question with a noncommittal answer. He had to give Harry a reply of some kind, and it had to be one that couldn't cost Nick any more than them being together already had. He turned to face Harry. "Are you joking? Nick's not even my type."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nick flinch as though he'd been struck, his face paling. Part of Charlie wanted Nick to speak up, to say something. Anything.

But Harry was still the only one speaking, over the empty laughter of the others. "You definitely have a crush on him."

"No."

"You do." Harry started messing with Charlie's hair.

Nick grabbed him by the arms and pulled him away from Charlie. Hard. Pushing him back toward the others again. "Just stop."

Charlie didn't wait to see what would happen next. He knew. Nick wouldn't speak up, and Harry would keep going because there was no one to stop him, and Charlie didn't want to be part of it any longer. He sped up and hurried out of the mall.

In the car park, as he was checking his phone to see if his dad was here yet, Nick caught up to him. Charlie turned to him, wanting to say something, but ... he didn't have anything to say. Not right now. "My dad's here. I have to go." He started walking away.

"Charlie. Hey." Charlie ignored him, for the first time ever not feeling warmed just by Nick calling his name, and Nick hurried to catch him, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him round. "Wait."

He did wait, to see if Nick had anything new to say, but it was the same as always.

"I'm so sorry."

To think that Charlie was the one not allowed to say that. Nick said it more than Charlie ever thought it, or so it felt. "It's fine," he said, not wanting to argue about it.

"No. Harry was being a complete idiot and some of the others were being really unfriendly and ... We should have just left."

He wanted to feel bad for him—Nick looked so shocked and upset, like he hadn't been prepared for any of this—but mostly he was just annoyed. If Nick had wanted things to be different, why had he just stood there, the way all the others had? Charlie was tired of putting himself out to be part of Nick's life when Nick wouldn't, or couldn't, stand up for him. For them. "Nick," he said, his patience frayed, "I'm honestly used to it by now." After all that time in the locker room, all the times Harry had attacked him and Tao, had Nick really thought this would be any different? Well, he had, or he never would have suggested it. Charlie wished he had never agreed to come. He was so tired of putting up a brave face, pretending he was okay. But he couldn't tell Nick that. Maybe he should—but not now, at the very least. "I'll see you at school."

He turned around and left him there, too exhausted by it all, too hurt and irritated and disappointed, to say anything more comforting.

But before Charlie could get to his dad's car, another voice came from behind him, calling his name. Ben. He walked across the car park toward Charlie, staring at him intently. "I saw you holding hands with him. In the cinema. Are you going out with him, then?"

Charlie felt an icy fear. At all costs, he wanted to keep Nick from being outed by Ben, knowing exactly how Nick's friends would treat him if he was. "No."

"But you are getting with him."

"No."

"Don't lie." Ben looked at Charlie, but didn't seem to find whatever he was searching for. He stepped closer. "Well, I believe that you're not going out with him. As if anyone would ever want to go out with someone as desperate as you."

Part of Charlie believed just that. But another part of him knew that anything Ben said was for Ben's benefit ... and that there was someone who wanted to be with him, even if he couldn't bring himself to say so in public. "You did," he said, forcing the words out.

"Are you joking? You actually thought I liked you? You were just there like some tragic loser with barely any friends, who ate lunch alone every day and let bullies walk all over you. I never liked you. I'm not even gay. I just felt really sorry for you."

Charlie hated himself for letting Ben get into his head. None of what Ben said was real. It never had been. He knew what real felt like—real felt like Nick. Despite his fear, despite his inability to stand up for either of them, Nick always knew what he wanted. He never pretended. Not like Ben, whose every word was pretense.

But Ben's words echoed in Charlie's head anyway. Ben had never liked him. He just felt sorry for him. Maybe Nick just felt sorry for him, too. Maybe ...

To Charlie's relief, his dad pulled up before he had to figure out how to respond. He walked past Ben, leaving him there just as he had left Nick, and got into the car.

Watching Ben walk in front of the car, his dad asked, "Are you okay? What was that about?"

"Nothing," Charlie said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Whatever Ben had wanted, it didn't matter. He didn't matter.

Right now, Charlie wasn't even entirely certain that Nick mattered. He was so tired of all of it, so tired of pretending to be fine with the things people said and how they thought it was okay to treat him, so tired of acting like it was fine. Maybe if he just ... disappeared, and he didn't bother anyone, everyone would leave him be and he could just ... rest.