"Love does not begin and end the
way we seem to think it does.
Love is a battle, love is a war;
love is growing up."

-James Baldwin

Grand empty halls, countless similar corridors and a lack of a map, the perfect combination for getting lost.

It was no wonder Alan and Chris could not find their way to the dining hall. Every time they stepped into the wrong room, they were overcome by a new form of amazement.

The laboratories, which they had seen twice by now, were much more modern than Sherborne's.

"Are we walking in circles?" Alan found himself in a lab again. A few students stood bent around tables, their attention focused on petri dishes containing what might be red-coloured bacteria.

Chris shook his head cheerfully. "There are countless labs here." The enthusiasm dripped off his face.

Alan knew they were secretly not lost, just walking like unguided projectiles from one room to another, hoping the dining hall would never come, even though his stomach was rumbling.

"I told you Trinity is the best university." Chris tugged on his sleeve and led him into a new room. "Rupert studies here too. The maths department is the best in all of England," he inhaled deeply, "and the air is extremely refreshing."

Alan shook his head smiling, glad to see his friend so happy. He had to agree with him though, the atmosphere in this building was very different from his boarding school. Much freer. He almost didn't feel like going back to Sherborne in a few days. Here he could make himself at home, he told himself. Wherever Chris was, he could.

They entered the library. Busts of elderly rectors stared at them. Alan took a moment to admire the great ionic columns before he allowed himself to be drawn out by the other boy.

Alan pricked up his ears, he heard murmurs further down the corridor; that had to be where the dining hall was.

Indeed, they were welcomed by the warm candlelight and the smell of baked buns. He was aware that everyone was staring at the two latecomers.

Quickly they took seats at the back of the hall, at one of the long wooden tables. Shoulder to shoulder on the cramped bench. The boy next to the duo nodded politely, his black hair hanging in a comical curl on his forehead, he was dressed in evening clothes like everyone else.

Although Alan was not a fan of formalities like dress codes, he had to admit that Chris looked extremely good in his brown blazer.

As had often happened in recent weeks, he found himself staring. Though Chris never seemed to notice it.

The boy's blue eyes were focused on the professors' front table. Apparently, it was time for the rector's welcome speech.

A man in a red robe stood right under the portrait of King Henry VIII. "Benedic, Domine, nos et dona tua."

The Latin prayer passed Alan by, he turned to Chris. "I can't hear that language anymore, Mr Thomas is resolutely going to make me fail," he whispered under his breath.

Chris chuckled. "Is that because of what you did with the report on Nero? I saw him turn furiously red when he read it."

The corner of Alan's mouth crept up. "That's right." He played with his napkin, much to the boys' frustration on the other side of the table. "I probably should have chosen the subject differently. Thomas did not find the fact that Nero publicly married Sporus, a young man whom he put on a wedding dress, as entertaining as I did."

Chris cackled as quietly as possible. "That sounds too crazy to be true." And there was that beaming smile of his again, Alan knew it was only meant for him.

His heart skipped a beat, but he didn't smile himself. "Because it is not in any public writing, it is indeed implausible."

Chris squinted and looked at him from under his blonde lashes. As expected, his curiosity was bursting at the seams. "Then how do you know about it?"

Alan bent closer. The people around them had long since lost interest in them, but any chance to get closer to Chris, he would take. "At the back of Guildford library is a section for controversial subjects, under lock and key of course. I was looking for information about the Big Bang."

Chris' eyes got big, the mention of astronomy had piqued his interest. "Which states that the universe is not in a steady state? Why is that among the controversial writings?"

Alan nodded briefly. "Since cosmologists maintain that physics should not mix with religion, it is taboo. Just like any mention of homosexuals in Ancient Greece. That leaves very little of their history," he said grimly.

Not picking up on that mood, Chris went on fanatically about the expansion of the universe.

It was only when the clinking of cutlery filled the hall that he became aware of his surroundings again. The rector's speech was done, he settled down in silence as everyone greedily started eating.

His friend stuffed his mouth with vegetables. Alan poked his fork into the chicken, which looked scrumptious. Still, his stomach turned.

He was soon reminded that this was no pleasure trip. The maths department head solemnly got up and began calling out a list of names. Those few students would get a scholarship. On top of that came a handsome sum of money.

Alan thought of all the things he could do with the money. Buying a telescope was the first thing that came to his mind. He would never again have to ask his stingy parents – who thought even stamps were too expensive – for money. Then he thought of the test he had taken this morning. A series of maths questions, of a very different level to those at Sherborne, where they had to pour numbers into formulas like headless chickens.

"Morcom Christopher."

Alan's head shot to his friend, who looked equally surprised. He had done it. He had the scholarship. Alan clapped silently towards the boy, who seemed not even half as happy as Alan.

"Congratulations." This came from the boy next to them, the curl in his hair happily bouncing up and down when he turned to them. He held out his hand. "My apologies, Maurice Pryce."

He and Chris shook hands cheerfully. "Pleased to meet you," they muttered at the same time.

"Is this your first time?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I myself am here for the second time, last year was a complete fiasco. Though I feel I will succeed this time, Newton is by my side." Maurice winked at them and nodded his head towards the painting of Isaac Newton next to the table.

Chris clicked his tongue and made a disappointed face. "I doubt that. All the names have been mentioned."

He was right, the speaker was seated again. Alan pressed his lips together and ignored the sad looks from the boys beside him.

He hadn't made it either.

"I'm sorry," he heard his friend whisper. An apology that was unnecessary. Alan shook his head.

His teachers were probably right, he was not smart. Certainly not as brilliant as Chris, he would never be.

Maurice gloomed at the painting, as if his good friend Newton had abandoned him. He understood that look all too well, without scholarship, he might have to abandon Chris too.

He turned to his friend and conjured a smile on his face. He did succeed and they would celebrate that.

"Come on, let us celebrate your victory." He got up first, again causing glances judging his ill-mannered behaviour.

"But I haven't finished my chicken yet," Chris cackled. Reaching out in vain for the golden-brown wings, he was dragged away by Alan.

With a smile, he fought the spluttering boy and the smell of the food.

"Nice to meet you too," Maurice called after them, again all alone with the gruff Newton.

"Alan, one setback and you immediately throw yourself into a pit." The boy's words were stern, but the tone in which he pronounced his name was tender.

"I'm just trying to figure out how deep this well is," he shot back.

Chris crossed his arms and watched patiently as Alan bent over the well. The light from the lantern in his hand was not enough to chase away the darkness at the bottom.

Though the boy was right, Alan was behaving childishly by seeking such distractions. Initially, he had come outside because Chris desperately needed fresh air.

However, the air was just freezingly cold. Trinity's once green courtyard was covered with a white layer of snow.

Alan rooted haphazardly among the frozen grass and withdrew a wet pebble. From the corner of his eye, he could see how Chris – beneath his habit of acting irritated – gratefully sucked in fresh air. He turned on his heel and dropped the pebble. The old well apparently still contained water; he heard a distant splash. A cold sensation swept across his stomach as he bent over again, the pile of snow on the edge of the well penetrating his formal clothes.

Chris pulled him back by his collar to prevent him from falling. A sigh escaped his mouth, his breath forming clouds that touched Alan's face. "I wanted to keep this as a surprise for tomorrow, when we both got the scholarship, but-"

That brought Alan to mind, the scholarship students would have a tour and trial classes tomorrow. He, on the other hand, would already have to go home. He swallowed wearily, again something that would separate him from Chris.

The boy began to stride purposefully towards the gate of the university.

Alan followed him silently.

The moon was high in the sky, already glistening as white as the snow that crunched beneath their feet. At Sherborne, there was a strict curfew; all the lights should have been off by now. He yearned for the freedom here on Trinity, where they could go wherever they wanted.

Chris poked his elbow into Alan's wet shirt. "Cheer up, nothing is lost yet. You still have a whole year to prepare for the next scholarship exam."

Alan thought of Maurice's sad face, how many more times would he have to fail before luck struck?

"I refuse to ask my parents for money, my elder brother John got such things on a platter because he was studying law." He bit the inside of his cheeks and couldn't help but feel jealous of Chris. "But me? They don't exactly applaud my choice of sciences."

Chris' face darkened, he opened his mouth, at that exact moment his eyes sparkled again. "We're here."

At first glance, Alan saw nothing special about the white building. Until he saw the round dome on the roof. "The Cambridge observatory?" he guessed.

Chris snapped his fingers, which slightly trembled due to the cold. "My brother knows the supervisor and arranged for us to visit this weekend."

Alan looked at the building again, the front looked like a Greek temple. Together they walked to the portico, which protected them somewhat from the winter temperature. A night of stargazing with Chris was indeed just what he needed.

Yet again, he would not get what he desired. Chris tugged at the door and laughed uncomfortably when it did not budge. With his full petite weight, he plunged himself onto the door, which remained firmly locked.

Alan had noticed how hard his friend had lost weight in recent months. Quickly he pushed that thought away. "I don't think that astronomer friend meant that we could just show up in the middle of the night."

Chris placed his hands on his hips. "You think?" He let himself slide to the floor against the door.

Alan was not disappointed; the gesture was more than enough. He carefully placed the lantern on the stone floor and sat down next to his friend.

"Do you promise to come to Trinity, though? Scholarship or no scholarship?" That question from Chris caught him off guard. He closed his eyes, unable to make empty promises. "Otherwise we wouldn't see each other again," he complemented weakly. His blue eyes were nevertheless bright, and pleading.

Alan smiled. "I wouldn't like anything more."

That apparently reassured the boy; he rested his fatigued head on Alan's shoulder. That candour always sparked his courage. Chris found it hard to express his emotions in words, but he always found a way to show it. If only with a smile.

"I feel sorry for the people who invalidate your genius. Like the examiners today," the boy next to him said suddenly. "Your methods may be...unorthodox, but such innovative elaborations are just what mathematics needs."

Alan huffed. Suddenly feeling heated, he ran his hand through his hair, the snowflakes that nested in it, turned to water by the touch of his fingers.

When Chris mercilessly continued his argument, his voice changed in a way. Alan couldn't put his finger on it. "You have to fight for what you want. Let it be a scholarship, a friendship, anything really. I won't just appear out of thin air. Like at the rugby game. You didn't want to fight for us, but I still do."

A surge of affection overwhelmed him. Fighting for a friendship? Or fighting for us? Why did Chris always choose such confusing words. He smiled. "You're right, I will study extra hard in the coming year."

"Even if I wasn't there?"

"Don't say such a thing," Alan snapped. He couldn't withhold the emotion in his voice.

Chris allowed himself to yawn loudly and let himself slide lazily into Alan's hands. "Yeah yeah," he muttered, "what was to be shown."

"What?"

The boy closed his blue eyes and pressed his head against Alan's shoulder like a lazy cat.

He figured that the chicken had probably been prepared with just a little too much beer.

"I believe you can do it, you can get anything you want with that brain of yours. If not, I'll cheer you on until you can. Together we can make history, remember?"

Alan smiled sadly, not that the boy could see it. His hand stroked a lock of hair from the face of the one thing he couldn't get. "As long as we're together."

That last part didn't reach the boy. Chris' body went limp in his arms. The exhaustion of the day was taking its toll.

Alan held his hand steadfastly in the sleeping boy's golden blonde hair. In the red light of the lantern, his face looked even more beautiful.

He thought involuntarily of an experiment where he had to heat metals to find out what substance they consisted of. Copper burned with a blue light and the flame of magnesium had a bright white colour.

Chris also burned. When he smiled, his whole face seemed to light up, like a golden sun. If he wanted to, he could also burn with the light of magnesium. The stars in his eyes were equally white and bright. Alan doubted that other people looked at him like that and could see his colours. Not like him. But like fire, such strong love could also hurt. Though he did not allow himself to allow that love into his heart for that very reason, he knew it was there somewhere. He felt it in his whole body. And that was enough.

Alan kissed the boy's blonde crown with the same tenderness and love as his mother.