Chapter 3
Will
Seventeen candles on the cake, dancing flames casting shadows on the kitchen tiles.
Nathan is singing “Happy Birthday”—somehow badly and earnestly at once—while Jon replaces the words with the rudest alternatives he can think of.
Will rolls his eyes, playing it cool. It’s a little embarrassing to have your best friend, idiot older brother and overly sentimental parents singing for you on your seventeenth birthday. He’s too old for this kind of celebration. Money to go out with his friends would be better.
Obviously Nathan would be there, so it’s not that different. And Jon would insist on coming along, so.
Will pushes a little twinge of happiness to the side and rolls his eyes again as the singers reach the final line. Jon stretches the last word out as long as he can, reaching out to punch Will in the shoulder and pouting when he steps neatly out of the way.
“Happy birthday, baby boy.” Mum gestures at the candles, lips stretched in a beaming smile when he blows the flickering flames out.
“Not your baby boy anymore.” Will ducks another punch from Jon, using his brother’s momentum to spin him around and shove him out of the kitchen and into the hall.
“I know, I know. Seventeen, almost a grown-up! But you’ll always be my baby boy in here.” Mum presses her palm against her heart.
Nathan grins at her, affection written all over his face. A moment later he laughs and shakes his head.
A candle flies across the room and lands in the sink, plastic holder pinging as it strikes the metal.
“Jon,” Nathan drawls. “There was no way you were gonna get that into his ear, you know. Not on my watch.”
“Worth a try!” Jon trills from the hallway, his steps thumping up the stairs a moment later.
Nathan rolls his eyes and takes a step closer, watching as the cake floats away to be sliced.
“You’re staying to eat this lovely cake, Nathan? Your dad won’t mind you being out a bit longer?” Mum asks, flipping a wedge of chocolate sponge with fudge buttercream onto a plate.
“Of course he’s staying for cake. When have you ever known Nathan to turn down cake?”
“Oh, never.” Mum cuts another wedge and carries the plates over, gesturing for them to sit down at the kitchen table. “Tea?”
“How about a beer?” Will asks hopefully. “It is my birthday.”
Mum snorts with laughter and prepares three cups of tea. “Maybe when you’re eighteen, dear. Or maybe when Nathan’s eighteen, since I’m sure you’d share it with him even if he was still underage.”
Nathan looks up from his plate, fudge icing smeared on his upper lip. “I would never drink underage, Mrs Savea. Never.”
Liar. We’re lucky your dad hasn’t noticed that one of his vodka bottles is half water yet.
“And I would never give alcohol to a child.” Will hides his wince behind an angelic smile when Nathan kicks him under the table.
He digs into the cake, noting that his best friend has already scoffed half of his own slice.
It’s delicious, just sweet enough that eating a wedge of it won’t end in nausea from all the sugar. “S’good cake, thanks.”
“Nathan helped.” Mum leans over and ruffles his light brown hair affectionately. “Maybe you’ll be a baker some day? Or a fancy pastry chef?”
The easy-going smile slips from Nathan’s face. Mum doesn’t notice, taking Jon’s plate out to the hallway and calling him to come get it. From the lack of stomping on the stairs, he takes it with his Gift rather than with his own two hands.
Will kicks Nathan gently under the table. Their eyes meet, Will’s (hopefully) full of sympathy and Nathan’s full of something like regret.
“I remember when you first came here,” Mum continues, sitting down with a slice of her own. “With your dad for one of those community events. I’m glad we don’t host those anymore.”
“Bet Dad wants to,” Will murmurs, loading his fork and pushing his plate over to Nathan. “Go on, finish it. I can tell you want it.”
“But it’s your birthday cake?” Nathan’s green eyes are still subdued.
“It’s cool.” Will wishes his friend’s troubles were cured so easily.
“Will snuck you some cake then, too,” Mum interjects. “That’s when I knew you’d be good friends.”
“Feels like a long time ago.” Nathan scrapes the last of Will’s buttercream from the plate and licks the fork clean.
“It was. You’ve both grown up so much. Remember when you used to have those little wooden swords and shields and play at being knights? What did you call yourselves?”
“Sir William of Grosvenor Road and Sir Nathaniel of Park Crescent.” Will smiles at the memory, remembering the way Nathan used to smack at his shield.
“Yield, you cowardly knave!” Nathan points his fork at him, holding it just like he used to hold the wooden sword.
“You’re no knight, you filthy rogue.”
Mum smiles. “In a year you’ll be adults. Terrifying.”
Will can’t resist. “A year and six months for Sir Nathaniel.”
Nathan rolls his eyes. He downs the last of his tea and floats the mug over to the counter, his plate stacking itself on top of Will’s before following.
“You’re very precise, Nathan.” Mum watches as the dishwasher opens, cups and plates and forks arranging themselves neatly inside. “Jon’s still a little clumsy.”
“Thanks,” Nathan mumbles. “Wanna play, Will?”
“Yeah. Thanks for the cake and everything.” Will pushes his chair back with a screech.
They sit side by side on the squashy green sofa in the living room with the controllers held loosely in their hands, waiting for yet another update to install.
Will sneaks a glance at Nathan, trying to read the look in his eyes through an overlong sweep of brown hair. “You alright?”
“Yeah.”
His voice sounds flat. Years of experience tells Will he’ll open up when he’s ready.
They’re halfway through their fifth race when Nathan shifts beside him. “He wants me to go to this summer camp next year.”
With every year that goes by, the gulf of opinion between Nathan and his dad grows wider. Mr Warner wants his son to hone his Gift, get the experience he’ll need to set him up to inherit their family business. Nathan doesn’t know what he wants (other than not that), but he rebels anyway.
“What kind of summer camp?”
“The kind where people go to get stronger. Training and stuff. And… build relationships. You know.”
Build relationships with people who’re Gifted. With people who aren’t me.
Mr Warner thinks Nathan should have a friendship group composed entirely of people as Gifted as he is. Well, ideally not quite as Gifted as he is; Mr Warner is used to being the biggest fish in the pond and he wants the same for his son.
And of course, Mr Warner doesn’t think Nathan should be friends with a Blank.
Mr Warner’s opinion has been obvious for the entire time they’ve been friends. Will thought that one day he’d get used to it, but that day has yet to come. The reminder of his disapproval is a sour taste in the back of his throat.
He focuses on the game, fingers moving nimbly over the controller. “You wanna go?”
“Nah. Better things to do with my summer than hang around with a bunch of pompous arseholes.”
“They’re probably not all pompous arseholes, though.”
“I know.” Nathan sighs, barely noticing as Will overtakes him to snatch the victory. “I just… I know how he wants my life to play out. Finish school, get a business degree, couple years hands-on experience, go work by his side. I don’t want it. I wanna choose for myself.”
Will makes a sympathetic noise, well used to this particular speech.
“Maybe I could be a baker or something. I think I’d like that, even if I had to get up early every morning. But he doesn’t want me to do what I want. He wants me preserving our family legacy or some bullshit like that.”
Nathan’s knuckles are white, fingers curled into claws around the controller.
“I hate him. I hate him.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I wish she was still alive. She’d get it. She’d tell him.”
“I know, mate. She would.” Will leans over, knocking Nathan’s shoulder with his. He sounds so dejected. Will’s heart aches for him. “She would.”
“You’re so lucky, Will,” he mumbles. “Your mum just wants what’s best for you. She listens to you, like I’m sure my… my mum would. She always used to say…”
“There’s more to people than whether they’re Gifted or not?”
“Yeah. She did. But she also said I could do anything. Be anything. I dunno what I want to be, but I just wish I had some choice, you know?”
“I know. Can I… is there anything I can do?”
“Nah.” Nathan drops the controller and scrubs at his face.
“Okay. If there is anything, I’m here, okay?” Nathan nods, eyes fixed on TV in front of them. Will decides to change the subject. “So… How’s Miriam?”
Nathan’s cheeks turn steadily pink. He’s always blushed easily, his emotions always close enough to the surface to paint themselves brightly over his face. “She’s good.”
“That’s all you have to say?” Will smirks, biting his lip to prevent a full-on grin.
Nathan’s olive skin flushes a deeper shade of rose. “We skipped maths the other day. Found a quiet corner and made out. She let me touch her boobs.”
“Oh, we all noticed you were there for English and gone for maths. How were they?”
“Soft, but firm at the same time?” A flash of guilt cuts through Nathan’s grin. “They were alright. I like her.”
Will can’t quite put his finger on how that makes him feel.
He’s happy for Nathan, but there’s something else simmering below the surface of his emotions.
Probably fear that his best friend acquiring a girlfriend might lead to their friendship taking a back seat.
Life without Nathan right there all the time would be very, very strange.
He shrugs, choosing not to delve deeper. “Good on you, mate.”
“Miriam said Jenny likes you, by the way. If you ask her out, she’ll say yes.”
The best response Will can manage is a grunt, birthday cake suddenly sitting heavy in his stomach.
He knows he should tell him.
Nathan’s been his best friend for years. They’ve shared enough secrets that he knows Nathan probably won’t react badly. There are even a few others in their year who’ve come out as queer recently, one as trans and two as bi. Nathan didn’t judge them.
But what if he judges Will?
What if their friendship changes?
There are already so many differences between them. Little ones, like Nathan’s love of old rock music against Will’s fondness for metal. Big ones, like the power of Nathan’s Gift and Will’s inability to so much as nudge a teaspoon.
He’s always been worried that one day their differences will cause them to drift apart.
What if this is the start of it?
He feels himself curl up a little, arms drawing up into his sleeves.
Nathan wins the next three races.
He glances over, dark eyebrows raised. “What’s up with you? I never win this many.”
Will swallows, pushing the panic down his throat. “Nothing.”
“Come on, I’m not stupid.”
They sit in silence for a few minutes, staring at the race end screen, Nathan’s gamertag three whole places above Will’s.
Will takes a deep breath and steels himself, hoping his voice won’t betray just how fast his heart beats. “I’m not… I’m never gonna ask Jenny out. I… I’m not into girls.”
Nathan calmly starts the next round. “Okay. Cool. Are you into guys? Or are you ace, or… something else?”
“I’m gay. I think.” A synthetic squeal of tyres marks the beginning of the race. “No, I know. I’m gay.”
“Okay. Good for you, mate.”
They drive a couple laps in silence, Nathan a steady presence by his side.
It feels like a good start. Neutral to good, maybe. At least he didn’t get all awkward and leave.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Not much to talk about. I realised last year.”
“And you didn’t tell me straight away? I’m hurt.” Nathan leans over, knocking Will’s shoulder with his. “Joking, obviously.”
A tiny bud of hope blossoms in Will’s chest. “I wanted to.”
“Oh yeah?” Nathan lets out an outraged yelp as Will overtakes him, forcing him into the barrier. “Why didn’t you?”
“Wasn’t sure how you’d react. Didn’t want things to be weird between us, you know?”
“You’re my best mate, Will. I’ll always be here for you. Like you’re here for me.”
“I know.”
“Anyway.” Nathan’s voice takes on a teasing lilt as he shoulders Will again. “Things won’t be weird unless I catch you staring at my dick or something.”
Will promptly drives into a barrier himself. “Why would I stare at your dick?”
“I mean, I’m pretty hot.” Nathan rolls his shoulders back and poses, running a hand through his hair.
Will matches Nathan’s teasing tone as best he can under the circumstances, the lie ready on the tip of his tongue. “Good thing you aren’t my type.”
Nathan gasps dramatically. “You wound me.”
“Whatever.”
If he’s teasing me, maybe it’ll be okay.
Relief floods through him, relaxing his shoulders and slowing his heart.
“So. I guess I’m not getting any advice from you about Miriam, then.”
“Probably not. But if you want any advice about clothes…”
Nathan erupts into laughter, his elbow poking sharply into Will’s ribs. “Stereotype or what? I don’t need clothes advice from you. Everything you own is black. I don’t wanna look emo.”
“How many emos do you know with curly hair? I’m not emo.” Will pauses the game and reaches across, ruffling Nathan’s thick brown hair. “If anyone’s emo it’s you, with all that hair hanging over your eyes.”
Nathan bats his hand away with a grin. “Fuck off, I’m the opposite of emo.”
“You’re right, no self-respecting emo would wear sweats every day.”
“They’re comfy, alright?”
Will unpauses the game, letting the last lap start with Nathan hot on his tail. “Dickhead.”
“You’re a dickhead who looks like he’s going to a funeral every day.”
“You’re a dickhead who looks like he’s always about to play football or something.”
“Well, you’re a dickhead who doesn’t know anything about sports.”
“I don’t want to know anything about sports. Got better things to do with my time.”
“Oh, like listening to whiny music and crying ’til your eyeliner runs?”
“Oh, fuck you.” Will abandons his controller and pounces, tickling his best friend for all he’s worth.
They end up rolling on the floor, throwing light punches and elbowing each other with everything they have, giggling and swearing as they do. It’s a sign of great respect that Will isn’t even tempted to crack out any real moves.
“Boys! Don’t make me come in there!”
Will rolls himself away and scrambles to his feet. “Sorry, Mum!”
He holds a hand out, pulling Nathan up from the floor. They’re both last in the race now, their cars idling at jaunty angles on the track.
“Restart that one?” Nathan asks, grabbing his controller.
“Yeah, if you stop being a dickhead.”
Nathan makes a vague noise that sounds like agreement and settles back on the sofa.
Will steals a glance at him, just a tiny one, before they restart the race.
They make it halfway through the race before Nathan uses his Gift to surreptitiously smack Will over the head with one of Mum’s decorative cushions.