solar clarke's pov:

"Did you make up with your friends?" I nudged Nathan's shoulder to get his attention. He had spent most of the lunch break texting and I was worried he wouldn't have time to finish his meal.

"You k-knew about that?" Nathan glanced up from the screen, surprised.

"Well, you weren't texting with them, so I put two and two together." I took a sip from my water, leaning back on my seat. All that came to Nathan's friends, I had had to put together myself. I didn't even know their names, I just assumed he was texting with his friends. It didn't bother me, because I had figured out a long while ago that Nathan would open up to me in his own space. 

"Yeah, we made up on the weekend." A sunny smile brightened Nathan's face when he said that and I couldn't have been happier for him. I knew he was troubled with the Nicholas dilemma, so he needed more reasons to smile about. 

"Good. And Liam?" When I brought up Liam's name, Nathan's gaze automatically moved to the table next to ours. He was talking with some guy, his body angled away from us.

"I don't know." Nathan huffed, then looked away. The expression on his face was a mixture of determination, anger and hurt. "And with the way he's been acting, I'm not sure if I even care to find out. It's 21st century, I can't believe anyone s-still has trouble wrapping their head around something as simple as homosexuality."

"Amen to that." Kieran agreed and raised his glass to Nathan. It was easy to tell he liked Nathan, by the way he smiled at him and leaned closer to nudge his shoulder. "This one is a keeper, Sol." 

°°°°

I had the last class of the day with Johnny and Kieran, and I doubt either of them heard a word of the teaching. I wasn't worried about Kieran, who was napping, because he was one of those annoyingly smart people who get good grades without trying. Johnny, who was playing Tetris through the entire class, was a whole nother thing. I wanted us all to graduate this year, and Johnny's lack of motivation was threatening the plan.

But you're not your friend's keeper, or how did the saying go? I couldn't make Johnny focus on his studies any more than Nathan could keep Nicholas from acting like an ass.

Which brought me back to the Nicholas dilemma. I had been ruminating about it the entire weekend, trying my best to find a logical explanation to his behavior and then a way to help him through whatever he was going through. I didn't care much about him, but I cared about Nathan and I wanted to make him happy.

"Is that Nathan or Nicholas?" Johnny's voice brought me back to the present. I followed his gaze and, by the shadowy corner near the school's back entrance, I spotted a familiar looking figure talking to some guy I hadn't seen before. 

"Nicholas." I confirmed. Nathan was wearing a green shirt today and this version of him had a dark brown hoodie. 

"Is it just me or does that look shady?" Johnny lifted an eyebrow.

It was definitely not just him, because everything from the shadowy corner to the way they stood was suspicious. Nicholas' shoulders were hunched and his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, like that could somehow hide him from the prying eyes. 

Then the guy slipped something in the pocket of Nicholas' hoodie and walked away without a goodbye. Not before I captured the moment with my phone camera, though. Nicholas left in the other direction, still hunching his shoulders.

Maybe I had seen too many episodes of Narcos, which was technically just two and a half, but it made me think of dealing. Not that Frostford was any sort of a drug paradice: I had heard some students talking about weed and smelled it in their clothes, but that was about it. Which, obviously, didn't mean no one used any other drugs in this town.

As my knowledge of drugs was based on those two and a half episodes of Narcos, I knew it would be wiser to think it through before alarming Nathan. But when have I ever listened to that voice of reason? When have I ever stopped to think before acting on my first instinct?

"I've gotta go." I didn't give Johnny a chance to ask where I was going or who was going to take him home instead of me, before turning on my heels and calling Nathan. When he answered, I asked: "Are you still at school?"

"I can see you, actually." Nathan pointed out, and true enough he was walking across the yard towards me, the phone still on his ear. I ended the call and rushed to him. He was smiling at first, but as soon as he saw the expression on my face, the smile faded. I showed him the picture, silently watching how he furrowed his brows.

"Do you think it could be drugs?" I hadn't thought it through, but I didn't think it would hurt to discuss it with Nathan. He snatched my phone, taking a closer look while biting his lips. For the longest while he didn't say a word. "Nathan?"

"It can't be.." He muttered, handing the phone back to me. He shook his head, his face turning bleak. Then he blinked his eyes and turned to walk away.

"Uh, Nathan? Where are you —"

"When did that happen? W-where did he go?" Nathan demanded, either ignoring my question or not hearing it. 

"Just now. And, um, to his car, I think." I took a step towards him, only to watch him take another back. I had no idea what was going on in his head or why the idea of drugs left him so shaken, which made me realize how little I actually knew about him. 

I knew his little brother had leukemia and that he was nothing like his twin brother. I knew he liked watching the stars and I knew he had dyslexia. I knew he was good at chemistry. I felt like I had known him forever and I felt like I knew him inside out. 

But I didn't know how he felt about drugs. I didn't know his most precious memory from childhood or why he refused to call Jeffrey his dad. I didn't know the names of his internet friends. The truth was that, after all, we hadn't known each other that long. It just felt like we had, when in reality there was still so much left to tell and hear about.

"Okay, thanks."

"Do you need a lift?" I offered, unwilling to let him leave like that.

"I'll run faster." Nathan muttered, and before I could remind him he wasn't exactly that much of a runner, he was already sprinting away. He ran faster than he had run the day I had punched him, and I'm pretty sure he ran for his life that day. I hoped he wasn't running to take Nicholas'.

When he was gone, I just stood there gaping after him. I had this odd hollow sensation inside my chest, like I was feeling.. abandoned? A part of me hoped Nathan would have stayed and explained me what the heck was going on, or at least let me come with him to his crusade to murder Nicholas. 

Then, like an answer to my prayers, I felt a hand on my shoulder. When I turned to take a look at the owner of the hand, I let out a sigh of relief. At any given moment, whenever I was in need of advice, he was the person I went to. "What's wrong, Sol? You look like you've seen a ghost."

°°°°

I haven't been answering to your comments that well lately and I hope I don't come off as cold or indifferent. It's a social anxiety thing, making me overthink everything until I can't write anything anymore. :D Please just know that I really appreciate the comments, even if I don't (always) answer them.