Chapter Text
Elle’s painting was covered, and she refused to let anyone have so much as a peek at it until it was time for the big reveal. They all crowded around Elle’s painting. Elle was introduced as a new student, starting in September, so Charlie guessed if she had hesitated at all, the decision had been made now. She was asked if she wanted to say anything about her piece.
She stepped forward, taking her place next to her art. Charlie could see that she was nervous, but she held herself so calmly he was sure most of the crowd couldn’t tell.
“So …” she began. “There have been a lot of changes in my life over the last couple of years, but, with this piece, I guess I wanted to capture a place that holds a lot of happy memories. Even in the darker times. Somewhere I always felt … safe.”
And then the cloth was pulled off and Elle’s painting was there for everyone to see.
Charlie felt tears sting his eyes. She was right—it was a place they had all felt safe. Him, and her, and Tao, and Isaac, in the art room, where it had all started. He and Isaac surged forward immediately to hug her, seeing their whole friendship, everything that had brought them together, there on that one canvas. And then Tao joined them, too, the four of them. There had been darkness, but as the painting showed, there had also been rays of light. And they had come through to the other side, to this place where they had each other, and from the strength they had built together, they could move forward and start to explore who they were and what the world had to offer them.
And then they had to step back, because other people wanted to crowd round Elle and congratulate her and tell her how awesome she was, and she deserved every single glowing word.
Charlie and Isaac made their way back to where Nick was standing. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted,” Charlie said.
“You want to go?” Nick asked.
“Yeah. I think so. Isaac?”
Isaac looked around him, his eyes lingering on a piece of art in the center of the room. “No, I think I’ll stay.”
“All right. Good-night, then.” Charlie hugged him once more for good measure, and then he left with Nick, both of them talking about the art as they left the building.
“Every single piece of art there was, like, amazing,” Nick said.
“Agreed.”
“But, yeah, like, Elle’s is in a different league.”
“It was.”
And that was as far as they got, because Ben Hope stepped out from behind a pillar and stood there, waiting for Charlie to notice him.
Charlie froze, staring at Ben. He didn’t want to be here. No, he didn’t want Ben to be here. Ben carried the darkness of the past with him, he was surrounded by it. And Charlie wanted to move into the future, into the light. Where Nick was.
“Hey,” Ben said, as if they were just friends who happened to run into each other. But his face wasn’t as casual as his tone. He looked … scared. Like he didn’t know what to say, or what Charlie would say.
Nick stepped between them. “What are you doing here?”
Looking past Nick, Ben said, “I … I need to talk to you.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Nick told him, reaching for Charlie’s hand and starting to pull him away.
Charlie couldn’t seem to move. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to talk to Ben, but he was stuck, staring, fascinated. He knew Ben didn’t have anything to say he wanted to hear, but some small self-punishing part of him wanted to hear it anyway. He let Nick start to tug him away.
Ben called after them, “I just want to apologise.”
At those words, Charlie stopped and looked back at him. Was it possible he was sincere? Was it possible he thought saying “sorry” was going to make up for everything?
“Properly,” Ben added when he saw he’d caught Charlie’s attention. “Please. Just hear me out.”
Charlie looked at Nick, who was still holding his hand, firm and steady, and then back at Ben.
Ben said, “I’m not going back to Truham for sixth form, so if you really hate me after this, you’ll never see me again.”
Did he actually think it was possible Charlie would stop hating him? And if only it was true that he’d never see him again, never hear from him again. He wanted to forget Ben and everything Ben had made him feel, to move on with his life. But to do that, apparently he had to let Ben get whatever this was out of his system, or he’d just keep coming back.
He looked at Nick, who was clearly unhappy with all of this, then let go of Nick’s hand and walked back to Ben. The air seemed to grow colder with every step away from Nick’s warmth and back into the darkness that was Ben. But Nick was right behind him. Nick wouldn’t leave him.
“Go on, then.” He looked into Ben’s eyes, the eyes he had been tricked into thinking were caring, once upon a time.
“I’m a messed-up person, Charlie. I liked you. You know that, don’t you?” Ben was actually smiling. Like any part of what had gone on between them was worth smiling about. “I know I was a piece of shit, but … I really liked you. If I’d just had more time …” He took a deep breath. “I want to be like you two, but—my parents would never accept who I really am.”
Charlie looked down, feeling that pain. He wasn’t sure his parents actually accepted him for who he was, either. But that didn’t make it okay to take that hurt and put it on someone else.
“I’m sorry. For everything,” Ben said. “I just … wanted something good.” He smiled again. “You were something good.”
For a moment, Charlie could see their relationship the way Ben described it, the way Ben wanted to remember it. But it hadn’t been that way. It hadn’t been a person in pain reaching out for something to grab hold of, a lifeline. It had been a person in pain seeing someone weaker than themself to use to feel better.
He looked at Ben, straight in the eyes. “Do you remember the first time you kissed me?”
Ben nodded, still smiling, like it was a good memory.
But Charlie wanted to make it clear that it was not, and it never would be. “You didn’t even ask. You didn’t puase to wonder whether it was what I wanted, and I went along with it because I had a crush, and I didn’t know any better. I didn’t realise that you had all the control.” He swallowed, trying to get the words out, trying to make sure they were the right ones. “When I eventually did realise, I thought … ‘This must be what I deserve’. Someone taking whatever he wants from me whenever he wants. Treating me like I’m nothing the rest of the time.”
He thought about meeting Ben in the halls, Ben pretending they didn’t know each other. And about meeting Nick, when they really didn’t know each other, and Nick’s smile every time. That’s what he deserved, he reminded himself. It always had been.
Ben was silent, but he was no longer smiling.
Charlie went on, because he wasn’t quite finished. “And now whenever anything good happens in my life, there’s a little voice in the back of my mind telling me I’m worthless and that I don’t deserve it. And now you want me to forgive you so you can feel better about yourself?”
He could see the tightening in Ben’s jaw, but whether he was angry or feeling defensive or actually feeling guilty was hard to tell.
“I’m glad you realise what you did was wrong,” Charlie told him, “but you don’t get to ambush me into forgiving you. ‘Sorry’ doesn’t make up for everything you did to me. I really hope you become a better person so you don’t hurt anyone else.” He thought then of Imogen, of that other girl he had glimpsed once by the school gate. What scars had Ben left on them? “But I don’t want to be there to see that happen. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
And with that, he turned and reached for Nick, who took his hand immediately, but didn’t say anything. Charlie was grateful for that.
They left Ben standing there. He could stand there forever for all Charlie cared.