Work Text:
“Mum! Where’s David’s old Wii?”
It’s here somewhere, I know it is. There’s no way he would have dragged it all the way to Glasgow when it’s so out of date. I haven’t seen him use it in years - not since I was about ten and he’d still let me play. But I also know that he wouldn’t have thrown it away. He’d probably argue that it’ll be worth something someday.
“What was that, Nicky?”
Mum comes up behind me as I’m digging around in the big cupboard on the landing. Something crashes to the floor next to me - Scrabble, I think, judging by the sound - and I should pick it up straight away but I am too busy looking.
“David’s Wii. Where is it?” I sound a bit panicked, like this might be a desperate situation, but I really need to find it.
“Sweetheart, it’ll be here. Let’s have a look.”
Mum nudges me gently out of the way and I busy myself picking up the letter tiles that have careened across the floor. A few clatters later and Mum’s tugging the dusty old console from under a pile of Lego boxes on the shelves.
“Here you go. Now what was so important about it?”
“Just… feeling nostalgic.”
“I’m not even sure it works anymore, darling. It’s got to be fifteen years old…”
It’ll work. I just need to find the right cables for it. I’m pretty sure the TV in my room has some colourful slots, or maybe I can find an adapter. Now I just need…
“Where’s the drum kit?”
“The what?”
“David and I used to play that Guitar Hero game and he had a set of drums. Did we throw them out?”
“Nicky, baby, look at this cupboard. Do you think we’ve ever thrown anything out?”
It’s a fair point. I swear it must be bigger on the inside because the entire history of mine and David’s childhood is packed into what can’t be more than a two by two metre square space. There’s a clear plastic box of old costumes; puzzles that we used to do with our grandparents; some cuddly toys that we both grew out of but neither one of us were willing to part with; a pile of children’s books in English and French. Mum folds her arms across her chest and raises her eyebrow.
“What’s this about, Nicky?”
I’m not really sure how to explain. If I tell her the truth - that I’ve met someone who is amazing and intelligent and talented and should in no way be interested in being my friend - she’d scoff and say something like anyone would be lucky to be your friend, Nicky.
But she hasn’t met Charlie. And she wouldn’t understand.
He’s just… better than anyone I know. And hanging out with him at school doesn’t feel like enough anymore. We see each other in form, and sometimes I look for him at lunchtime, but there’s not enough time in the day for us to hang out properly. Besides, any time we do have there’s always the danger that Harry will be a dickhead or Charlie’s scary friend (Tao?) will come and glare at me until I leave.
Things changed after Ben… did what he did. I like to think that Charlie and I would have ended up friends regardless, but finding them and being there to help has sort of… accelerated things… I guess. We started messaging afterwards and we just haven’t stopped. He’s the last person I talk to at night and the first person I talk to in the morning.
One of these days we’re going to have our phones confiscated in lessons.
Mum is still giving me a weird look. She probably thinks there’s a girl involved.
“I… er… I met someone.”
“Oh?” She sounds excited. I run the words back and my throat tightens.
“Not like.. met someone. I made a friend. His name is Charlie… he’s in my form.”
“Oh.” She deflates slightly. There isn’t much gossip in our house now that David is away. “Well that’s nice, sweetheart-”
“And he’s just so cool, and nice, and funny. And he’s literally the smartest person I’ve ever met. Like, he’s so good at maths, but he’s also really fast. I asked him to join the rugby team as our reserve and I’ve been teaching him how to play and he’s picked it all up so quickly. And the other guys weren’t sure at first because they thought that because he’s gay he can’t play sports - which is ridiculous - but he’s proven them all wrong and they all really like him- except Harry, but he’s a di- a… he’s not really very nice. But I thought that maybe I could invite him round and he might like to play on the Wii with me and teach me to play the drums like I’ve been teaching him to play rugby-”
Something on Mum’s face, when I finally take a breath and meet her eye, has me stopping and going hot. She’s looking at me like I’ve grown an extra head.
“I…” I start, and my mouth goes dry.
“You know, I think I remember it now,” Mum says slowly. Her eyes have gone all damp and shiny and I don’t know why. She reaches out and squeezes my arm gently. “Why don’t you go and put the kettle on and I’ll carry on looking. I don’t want to have to rebuild all these stacks of boxes when you knock them all over.”
There’re still some stray Scrabble pieces on the floor and she bends down to pick one up - moving it between her fingers like she’s nervous.
“I really love you, baby. You know that, right?”
“Of course I do… I love you too…” I don’t know why her voice has gone all soft. Maybe she’s spotted something in the cupboard that has brought back memories.
“Hopefully Charlie can come round soon…” she whispers, and I make my way back downstairs.