The next day, Lance seemed to have a bit more energy. Either he had chugged a couple bottles of energy drink before school or coming out to me had taken a large weight off of his shoulders. Probably the latter. He wasn't exactly the Cheshire Cat with his smiles but it was better than usual. Nothing had changed about my best friend; it wasn't like he had suddenly become a walking rainbow. "So what were you trying to tell me the other day?" I questioned, twisting the lid of my water bottle before taking a sip. It was lukewarm after being buried inside my backpack all day.

"Huh?" He responded, mouth full of some sort of pasta. Now that I thought about it, he hadn't been eating lunch for the last few days.

"About psychology. Something you learnt?"

"Oh, right. The Oedipus Complex. It's fucked up really."

"Yeah?" I made sure I listened that time to avoid another argument. It was worth it to see the sparkle of passion in his eyes.

"So, basically, the son wants the attention of the mum so he sees the dad as a competitor. He realises he can't get the attention of her to himself so he begins to identify with the dad."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"Wants the attention of the mum as in... wants to be with her."

"Oh." My face dropped and Lance began to chuckle in front of me.

"The girl version is the Electra Complex; that's even worse."

"Right... should I start talking to you about physics now? I feel like that might be a little less messed up."

"Anything that isn't messed up is boring."

"That explains why you're so interesting," Lance shoved me rather harshly and I let out a loud laugh. He was trying his best to chuckle with a mouthful of pasta, the tomato sauce covering his lips. Despite the food on his face, Lance still looked absolutely adorable. "I'm joking. You aren't messed up. You're the best."

"Aw, thanks, Keith."

"That's your cue to say 'you too'."

"Don't push your luck."

-

We had maths together. Maths was a wonderful subject that I loved but Lance couldn't have hated it more. He dreaded each lesson and, whilst I was flying through the work set, he'd just lay with his head on his table. Don't get me wrong, he did try but he had a tendency to give up relatively quickly. Perseverance, however, was my middle name (it wasn't actually).

"Lance," I poked his shoulder, worried for a second he might have dozed off. The teacher didn't even glance at our class at all so he didn't notice that Lance was half asleep and another kid was on their phone. The teaching at our school really wasn't very high in quality. "Do you need help?" My friend lifted up his head, just to groan so loudly that the kid on his phone glanced over at us for about five seconds before looking back down at his device.

"I gave up like twenty minutes ago. What's the point? Where in the world am I going to need," His eyes thinned as he read the title in bold at the top of the worksheet. "Standard deviation?"

"If you go to a university to do a maths degree." I pointed out but he wasn't at all impressed.

"Yeah, that's definitely going to happen. I should just drop this subject. I hate it so much more than I hated citizenship in Year 9."

"Damn. You must hate it a lot then." Lance hated citizenship with a passion. The teacher picked on him every single lesson and he never paid attention so he didn't ever have an answer. The teacher was friendly enough but Lance had never hated anyone more. I always thought it was funny when he was asked a question and would just sit there and roll his eyes before making some bullshit up.

"Yes!" He sighed, his eyes trained on the clock. We still had twenty minutes left. "Fuck this."

"Hey, give it to me," I leaned over and pushed the paper in my direction. Lance had, so far, filled in his name and drawn a few squiggles in random places. There was a rocket ship in the margin, a small lion sat in the answer box and some stars in the corner. I pointed the tip of my pen at the first question and began to explain it to him in the most basic way I could. The expression on his face remained as blank as the piece of paper; if not more so. "It really isn't that hard. At least try." If anyone asked Lance about the difficulty of standard deviation, he'd have compared it to rocket science.

When the bell rang, Lance let out the biggest sigh of relief. I chuckled slightly, even though I was a little worried about him. However, before Lance managed to sprint out of the room and never look back, the teacher stood up for the first time the entire lesson. "Just so you know, you have a test tomorrow."

Whilst Lance swore beneath his breath, I punched the air mentally. I was a huge nerd and, yes, on the occasion I looked forward to exams. Everyone has something they're excited for and it just so happened that mine was a bit more unique and peculiar than everyone else's. Despite my inner excitement, I kept a straight face and walked out of the class with a groaning Lance beside me.

-

Things were pretty dull for the next week until maths. We had swiftly done the test and, of course, I was determined to get an A. Anything less was a disappointment. Lance was more indifferent about it, seeing an A as a miracle and a U as not that big of a deal. I'd be infuriated if I got a U.

My paper was slammed down onto my desk and I immediately hugged it against my chest. In bright red pen was the letter A, along with the words 'well done' in my teacher's messy handwriting. Was it just a thing that all teachers had atrocious handwriting? Lance instantaneously turned his paper over so I couldn't see. When I asked him what he had got, he only shrugged and mumbled, "It doesn't matter." I didn't mean to look but I caught a glance of a large F as he slipped the paper into his bag.

I didn't bring it up for the rest of the day because people's strengths differed. It didn't matter that Lance couldn't do maths because he was excelling in psychology: top of the class. The class consisted of only four students but that wasn't important. He was outstanding and would excel no matter the size of the class. Maths just happened to be the subject I was best at but I'm sure, if I ever tried psychology, I'd be hopeless at it.

At lunch, Lance was extra quiet. Whilst I rambled on about Spider-Man, he just hummed responses hummed every minute or so. He wasn't eating, instead, staring down at the table as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. It wasn't even slightly interesting: it was the dullest, most generic table you could ever imagine. Once I was certain he wasn't listening, I said, "You know I really hate you and don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Mhm..." He responded, as I had expected.

"You aren't listening," I didn't mean to sound so disappointed but it was hard when I was disappointed. I guess it was payback for all those times Lance had rambled to me about psychology so I deserved it. I couldn't blame Lance either when he struggled to concentrate on a lot of things: it wasn't anything personal. "What's wrong? What's bothering you?"

Without even thinking, he blurted out, "I want to come out to my parents." My eyebrows raised substantially and I leant back in my chair. My mouth opened and closed a few times because I surely hadn't expected that. I half expected him to bring up the maths test. The silence dragged out and Lance glanced down at the table, his hair falling over his face.

"Shit..." I eventually responded. "You're ready for that?"

"I dunno," He was chewing on his lip. After being friends with him so long, I noticed the habit and knew of his nervous movements. Along with the lip biting, he'd fidget, play with his hands and avoid my gaze. "I told you and that went fine so telling my parents should be fine too?" The rising intonation in his voice reflected how sceptical he was.

"Well yeah. I'm sure it will be okay. You're their kid and they love you loads. They'd be stupid to treat you differently after you come out to them. They should be able to understand how hard this is and, trust me, I know it's hard."

"I knew for ages before I told you..." Lance went quiet as somebody walked passed us. He watched them and only spoke up again once they were out of sight. "I wanted to be 100% sure before I told everyone in case I was wrong."

"So you're 100% sure?" He nodded, his fringe falling over his eyes again. It made him look so small and innocent, contrasting his usual erratic personality. My friend Lance was energetic and much louder than necessary, especially when we were alone. He loved video games and psychology and would never shut up about them but I didn't mind because I loved seeing him so enthusiastic about something. Seeing him so reserved was peculiar. It was almost hard to recognise him.

"110%."

"Well... how about you prepare a speech? Write a letter? I don't know how this stuff works." That was a lie. I had looked up methods of coming out myself before but he didn't need to know that. The countless hours I have spent on my laptop in the middle of the night, frantically reading articles of advice to prepare myself for coming out were never going to be known by anyone but me.

"That's pointless. I'd be way too nervous to recite some shitty speech and I'd be shitting myself the whole time while they read a letter."

"How about you slip the subject into a conversation casually? That way you could see how they feel about it."

"I guess..." He didn't seem too confident in the idea.

"Lighten up!" I wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders and pulled him closer to me. I swallowed and tried my best to ignore my rapidly beating heart. He smiled but it appeared forced and I could see the pain in his eyes. "You can do this and it's totally okay if you aren't ready," Lance let out a heavy breath. "I'm sure they'll support you."

He nodded before pulling me into a hug. I let him bury his head in my chest for a few long moments before he backed up and forced another smile. The hug didn't last long enough.