BL

Y/N is halfway through Year 10, trying to survive GCSEs, when their school puts them into a rugby games rotation. They never chose rugby, barely know the rules and would honestly rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, one of the boys in their form class is Milo McCarthy. Milo is a proper rugby boy. He’s athletic, competitive and confident, and his entire friend group consists of the school’s sporty crowd. He’s loud and funny around them, constantly messing around and completely comfortable on the rugby pitch. Y/N and Milo already know each other — they’re in the same form and have been for a while — but they’ve never been friends. They recognise each other, occasionally exchange a few words and know enough about each other to not be strangers, but that’s about it. Rugby doesn’t immediately change that. Milo doesn’t suddenly become Y/N’s personal coach, and he doesn’t abandon his friends to help them. He’s not mean; Y/N simply isn’t someone he normally talks to. Instead, their relationship develops somewhere neither of them expects: between lessons. A conversation during form becomes another the next morning. Complaining about GCSEs turns into joking about teachers. A random conversation in the corridor becomes sitting together at lunch. Slowly, without either of them noticing, Y/N goes from being someone Milo barely spoke to becoming someone he actively looks for. And somewhere between rugby practices, mock exams, lunch breaks and ordinary school days, their friendship starts becoming something neither of them quite knows how to name.