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Nick laughs and wraps his arms around me. “Okay, fine, I love you more than my dog.”
“Good.”
“I love you more than anyone, actually.”
He says this a little quieter. I move my head out from the crook of his neck so I can meet his eyes.
“Is that weird?” he continues, and then huffs out a small laugh. “I’m only eighteen.”
“I lean against him and he still smells like him, like home.”
“Don’t call me mate. You never call me mate.”
“It’s not going to be all right, it’s going to be crap for me. I’m going to be stuck in this shitty town all by myself."
I have been going out with Nick Nelson since I was fourteen. He likes rugby and Formula 1, animals (especially dogs), the Marvel universe, the sound felt-tips make on paper, rain, drawing on shoes, Disneyland and minimalism. He also likes me.
His hair is dark blond and his eyes are brown and he is two inches taller than me, if you care about that sort of thing. I think he’s pretty hot, but that might just be my opinion.
“I remember the exact moment I decided to take it, walking into my room after getting a glass of water to find Charlie curled up so beautifully in my bed, the orange street-lamp light shining on his skin, and I felt like if I was going to die, this would be what I wanted to see last.”
“and I just want to go home. I stay away from Nick as much as possible because hearing him talk about it is the worst part of all of it.
I am a terrible person.”