Nick and Charlie

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 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.

Nick laughs and wraps his arms around me. ‘Okay, fine, I love you more than my dogs.’ ‘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 don’t know,’ I say. ‘Maybe.’ It is weird. We both know it’s weird. We both know we’re weird, we’re not like other couples our age. It’s weird that we hang out every single day, it’s weird that we’d rather just be with each other all the time. Every day we wonder when we’re going to stop feeling like this and get over our teenage relationship. But it never happens. We just keep on going. Because it’s good too. God, it’s so good. ‘I’m weird too,’ I say, because saying ‘I love you more than anyone too’ back to him doesn’t feel quite adequate, even though I honestly love him more than anyone else in the entire world. Nick squeezes me and says, ‘Yeah,’ because he already knows.

Having not seen him for over two weeks, just the sight of him makes me want to run up to him and kiss him and hold him and not let go of him for at least twenty minutes. I clench my fists and stay very still as he walks up to me. God, everything about him is so perfect.

I wake up because the sun is in my eyes – I forgot to close my curtains last night. I forgot to do a lot of things last night. Like be a decent human being.

I just check my phone for the six hundred billionth time. And there’s nothing, of course. Nothing.

It's like, if you had to provide evidence for soul mates, everyone would pick you two.

I find his hand and take it in mine. I lean against him and he still smells like him. Like home.

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.

Nick is the best and most important person I have ever met.

Everyone knows psychology A Level came straight out of hell.

He was bawling his eyes out and hugging everyone, including some scared-looking Year 7s who just wanted to catch their bus.

I used to think I was pathetic for thinking soppy, romantic stuff like that. I don’t anymore. I just keep thinking it. I keep wanting him here. I keep wanting him to stay.

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.

I love this. I love us. I love our weird, boring life.

It's like, if you had to provide evidence for soulmates, everyone would pick you two.

I wake up because the sun is in my eyes - I forgot to do a lot of things last night. I forgot to do a lot of things last night. Like a decent human being.

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.

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

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.

I wanted you to be the first to know that me and Elle are getting back together.

English Lit is utterly useless in the real world, Nicholas. Utterly useless.

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.

You know … Elle and Tao breaking up.

Everyone knows psychology A level comes straight out of hell.