From that day on, the story of Nick and Charlie wasn’t about the big, dramatic moments. It was about the small, quiet ones.
I’m an idiot. No, I’m worse. I’m a coward. The day I walked away, I didn’t go home. I walked to the beach. I sat on the cold sand and I thought about every second I’ve known you. Nick and Charlie
“Hmm?”
Nick sat in the waiting room of the therapist’s office every Tuesday for six months, doing his homework, waiting for Charlie to come out. He never complained. He never made it about himself. From that day on, the story of Nick
A week later, a letter appeared in Charlie’s locker. It was on torn-out notebook paper, covered in crossed-out words and ink smudges. It was so Nick . No, I’m worse
“Are we okay?”