Nick and Charlie

by Alice Oseman

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.

It hits me suddenly that this is the last day we’re going to be at the same school. Six entire years of being in the same place every weekday are over.

Nowadays, we don’t have to be scared here. I hold his hand whenever I want.

So I might’ve cried when the final bell went. Just a little bit.

I can’t tell him about this. He’d feel awful. He’s had enough of feeling bad because of me. I’ve already been the most annoying boyfriend in recorded history, what with all my mental health stuff.

“I think you need to talk to him.” “I don’t know what to say,” I whisper. “Just something. Anything.” “He hates me.” “That’s untrue.” “He’s angry.” “That’s temporary.” “I don’t know what to say.” “It doesn’t matter what you say,” she says. “You just have to say something.”

“No, but”—he shakes his head—“you’re Nick and Charlie.” I laugh. “What does that mean?” “It’s …” He laughs too, a nervous expulsion of air. “You’re … it’s hard to explain. It’s like, if you had to provide evidence for soul mates, everyone would pick you two.”

I really want to believe what he’s saying. That Nick never wanted to break up.

“If you want to break up,” he says, pointing a finger at me, “go right ahead. If you’re bored and want it to be over, fine. But just because you’re not going on fucking amazing dates every weekend doesn’t mean you’re boring and definitely doesn’t mean you need to break up.”

“A born-again woman. Willing to put aside my apathy for the sake of romance.” She blinks and puts her hand on her heart. “Jesus, I gave myself indigestion saying that out loud.”

On the drive back, Charlie falls asleep in my car. I turn the radio on and thank the universe that my life is like this.

“Okay, fine, I love you more than my dogs.” “Good.” “I love you more than anyone, actually.”