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Mr. Jennings looked around the class, annoyed. “And, who can tell me how many people live in Germany?” He looked around the class, but no one answered... it was the sixth hour and we were all tired. “Mr. Collins, how about you?” Of course, it was me again... I didn't have my mind on any meaningless numbers. Teaching German as a foreign language was enough for me, but why should I bother with some statistics? I thought about it for a while until Mr. Jennings finally said, “Maybe you should hurry up a bit - it's getting more with every minute.”
Most of the class grinned at least, only Davey had to let off a stupid remark again: “Collins won't contribute anything, the way he is at the moment.” “Nope, why should he? I also think about other things than population growth from time to time,” I fired back - pretty weak, admittedly.
I didn't even bother to elaborate on the sentence, I was used to such comments from Davey... and not only me. He got on the nerves of everyone in our class with his comments. They were just part of the daily routine and no one really paid much attention to them. Davey had always been a bit of an outsider, he never really belonged, but he had only adopted this repulsive manner in the last few years. Much to the chagrin of our teachers... they had been on the verge of expelling him a few times. Why hadn't they done it? I didn't know...
Things had only started to go badly between us recently, around the beginning of the eleventh grade. His comments were not only stupid, but sometimes even very hurtful... especially when it came to my father. I had only seen my father in a few photos, knew his first name and knew that he lived in Germany, but I had no contact with him. Mom never told me anything about him; what I knew about him, I learned from my grandmother. However, she always told me one thing: the reason why Dad and I had no contact was not because of him, but because Mom didn't want it that way. The strangest thing Grandma had told me on the subject was, “If you ever really need your Dad, he'll be there for you.”
Most people in my class knew the story, but Davey was the only one who felt the need to keep bringing it up. It was actually strange that we didn't get along. We were both outsiders in the class, he because of his nature, and me because I had always been a loner. I had always thought that I didn't need friends, but slowly even I realized that this was utopian and that I would not get anywhere like this. I began to cautiously make contact with other classmates. Not many, but enough to go to the swimming pool together or to meet in the afternoon in some café.
Mr. Jennings' question had been answered in the meantime, the lesson was over and I made my way home. Grandma was already waiting for me with dinner. “Well, my boy, how was school today?” I waved it off. “As usual, not terribly interesting, but not deadly boring either.” We sat down at the table. “Your mom called earlier. She needs to stay a little longer at the office today and probably won't be home until around nine.”
I shook my head. ”On a Friday? Well, if she says so...” Grandma shrugged. “I don't understand it either. Do you have any plans for tonight at least?” “No, not yet. I just want to go back into town to look for a CD.” “Okay, but you have to do your homework first. After all, you have exams in a few weeks.” I grinned. “Yes, Grandma, I promise.”
At half past three I had finished everything and set off for town... well, as far as you could seriously call the center of Scarborough that. The town had simply grown over time, and so what was the center in London or Edinburgh was spread out quite a bit. But luckily there were buses that took you everywhere.
I went to the CD store I always shopped at and then strolled through the streets for a bit. I was pretty lost in thought when I turned a corner and suddenly bumped into someone. “Oh... uh, sorry,” I stammered, until I finally saw who I had just run into. Two blue eyes glared at me angrily. “It was obvious you idiot couldn't pay attention.”
I grimaced into a sarcastic grin. “Yes, Davey, I'm glad to see you here, too. Especially since we haven't seen each other in so long, I've really missed you.” For a few seconds, his gaze became uncertain, but then he regained his composure. “Collins, don't waste my time and just go, okay?”
I shook my head. “No. This is the first time we've seen each other outside of school, and I finally want to know why you always act like the biggest asshole on earth. Neither of us has done anything to you, but you act like you're King Louis himself.” He looked at me contemptuously and then spat once, just missing me.
This little thing was enough, and all the anger I had been feeling towards him over time suddenly erupted. Until just now, I had been in an excellent mood, and now this weirdo came along and tried to ruin my day. Before he could even formulate a reply, I had grabbed him by the arm and pulled him so close to me that our noses almost touched.
“And that, my friend, you do just one more time, and then you can pick your teeth up off the street. Clear?” I said quietly and - at least I hoped - as threateningly as possible. It worked. Davey was almost three inches shorter than me and considerably more slender – if I had wanted to, I could have beaten him up anytime. But I didn't want to do that at all; I just wanted him to know that there was a limit to what I would take. And he obviously got that.
He tried to pull out of my grip, but couldn't. “Okay, Collins, what do you want?” I raised my eyebrows. “First of all, Nick is enough - after all, we've known each other for more than just a day. And secondly, I've already told you what I want.” He thought for a while, and finally, when I wasn't expecting it, he broke free with a lightning-fast movement.
“Do you always have to be so brutal?” he asked, almost cautiously, considering the tone he had previously adopted. ‘You've never seen me being brutal. And I'm not keen on showing you that.’ He was obviously thinking about what to do and couldn't quite make up his mind. Then he asked again: ”What do you want from me, Nick?” “Just to talk. Is that too much to ask?”
He looked at me disparagingly. “And what good would it do?” I shrugged. “I don't know. At worst, it was a waste of time. And at best, it will be a friendship for life,” I added grinning. “You don't believe that yourself, do you? Nobody wants me as a friend anyway,” he said doubtfully. ”We'll see about that. Now come on, let's go over to the bistro on the corner.”
Reluctantly, he came with me, and we looked for a quiet place. Davey was still skeptical. However, I now had a small problem: I had been able to persuade him to come, but I didn't know how to proceed. We stared at each other in silence for a while, our Cokes arrived, we discussed this round and three more glasses on all sorts of topics to find an opening for a conversation. It occurred to me that we had a lot in common, even if neither of us would have admitted it. Then I came back to our original topic.
“What was the meaning of the saying this morning at Jennings' lesson?” ‘Maybe I just wanted to provoke you?’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘You always try to provoke everyone, at every opportunity. Besides, you should have realized by now that you won't get very far with me that way.’ He smiled briefly, but immediately became serious again. “That's right – most of the time you don't even notice me.” ‘Well, I wonder why that is. You're always saying stupid things, we're just fed up with you.’ ‘I don't care about the others, Nick. But...’ He broke off the sentence and stared into his glass of cola.
“But what? Son, just tell me what's going on with you.” I would have liked to have grabbed him and shaken him. But a look in his eyes told me that I'd better not – he looked like he was about to jump up and storm out of the store at any moment. “Nick, I've never had anyone to talk to, and I don't know if you're the right person for it.” ‘Why not?’ ‘Give me one good reason why not.’ ”You give me one good reason why you shouldn't.”
He obviously couldn't think of one. “I hardly know you,” he said. “I don't know you either. Davey, we've been classmates for eleven and a half years, living only a few blocks apart. For the first ten years, we ignored each other and for the last year and a half, we only fought when we spoke to each other at all, which was almost a rarity.” Oh man, that look... I spontaneously added, “I don't know why... but I like you.”
He opened his eyes wide and stared at me. ‘Are... are you serious?’ he asked. I had watched him many times, but there was one thing I saw for the first time now: there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. I nodded. ”Yes, I was completely serious.” I could literally see his pulse and blood pressure skyrocketing. Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he was getting quite nervous, you could see that on his face.
He obviously had to force himself to continue speaking. “Nick... I... promise me, please, no matter what happens, keep everything we talk about to yourself, okay?” I took a deep breath and then held out my hand. “I promise.” He shook it and held it for a second or two longer than necessary. Somehow I had the feeling that he wanted to say something else, but he didn't.
We sat in silence at the table for a while, staring alternately at each other and at our now empty glasses. “Davey, what do you think about doing something together tomorrow? Maybe then we can talk more?” If you could call the whole thing a game, then I was now playing at risk. For the first time, I had got him to the point where we could talk normally. Who knew if it would still be like that the next day? But he just nodded. “Okay, what?” “Let's go swimming?” I suggested. “Good. When and where do we meet?” “I'll pick you up at your house at two o'clock.”
We paid for our drinks and then slowly made our way to the neighborhood where we both lived. On the way there, we met a boy of about fourteen on a bicycle, who I had also seen a few times in our neighborhood. “Davey, where have you been? Dad was worried about you.” Davey waved him off. “I was having a Coke with a classmate.” Nick, this is my brother Tom. Tom, this is Nick.” ‘Hi, Nick.’ ‘Hi, Tom.’ I hated being introduced to other people. Among adults, the phrase ‘pleased to meet you’ would probably have followed, but luckily it didn't.
Finally, we were standing in front of the entrance to our house. “Okay, see you tomorrow, Nick.” “See you tomorrow, Davey. And I hope it stays that way.” He just nodded and then walked the last few meters to his house. I watched him and Tom for a while and finally went in too.
Mom was sitting in the living room going over some papers. When I came in, she looked up. “Hello, my darling. Where have you been hanging around?” I put my key away, took off my jacket and then dropped into an armchair. “I was having a Coke with a classmate. Davey, I've already told you about him.” She looked at me in surprise. ‘Davey? From Williams Lane?’ I nodded. ‘Yes, exactly.’ ‘Aren't you always fighting?’ ”Hm... I have a sneaking suspicion that that's a thing of the past.”
She closed her books, took a martini and sat down next to me. “Come on, tell me.” I took a sip from her glass - which earned me a not-so-serious dirty look - and grinned. “Mom, when you're at home, leave the psychologist in the office, okay?” I told her what had happened in a few sentences. Finally she smiled. “And you're really sure you don't want to follow in my footsteps?” she asked. I nodded. “Yes, definitely. Please don't be angry with me, but I'm dog-tired and going to bed, okay?” She kissed me good night, and then I went up.
When I was in bed, I thought a little more. On the one hand, about the conversation with Davey... I had a slight suspicion about what he wanted to tell me, and I hoped that I was not wrong about my guess. On the other hand, I thought of my father, who was not much more than a name and a face to me. Since the encounter with Tom - and his hint “Dad is worried about you” - it haunted me again. When would I finally get to hear the sentence, “Dad was worried about you?” With this thought, I fell asleep.
The next morning I woke up relatively early... if you could call nine o'clock early. I usually used to sleep in on Saturdays, but today I didn't really feel like it. I took a shower, shaved, got dressed and went downstairs. Mum was already sitting at the breakfast table and looked up in surprise when I came in.
“Good morning, my darling. Did you fall out of bed?” I grinned. ‘No, but let me have a little bit of the day too.’ I sat down and poured myself a cup of coffee. The rolls were still warm. Mom put the newspaper aside and then looked at me questioningly. ”Or are you excited because you have your first date today?”
I almost choked on my coffee and only just managed to put the cup down in time. “Mum, it's not a date,” I tried to explain. But with my mother... no chance. She was a psychologist and worked a lot with teenagers, and I was pretty much the last person she could fool. “And if it were?” I asked quietly.
“Nick, do you seriously believe that I have never thought about this possibility?” she asked calmly. ‘I don't know, Mom.’ ‘If that's really the case, don't worry, at least not because of me. I've seen enough guys your age who had a lot of problems with their parents because their parents couldn't accept that their son was gay.’ Gay... she used the word like any other, and I had always given it a wide berth in my thoughts.
Before I could say anything, however, she continued: “Nick, a few years ago I had a case like that again, it happens more often than you think. In this case, I couldn't help him. The boy threw himself in front of a train because his parents made his life a living hell. That's when I swore to myself that I would never let it come to that.” I looked at her, quite speechless – I first had to process what I had just heard. ‘Did that really happen?’ I then asked in a whisper. She nodded silently.
“How old was this boy back then?” ‘Sixteen, the same age as you are now.’ I hardly dared to ask the next question. ‘And why couldn't you help him?’ She took a sip of coffee and then thought for a moment. ”We had already had a few sessions, and I actually felt that at that point he was ready to accept himself. His parents didn't know anything at that point, but he was terribly afraid of it because his father got upset again and again when the topic was mentioned on television or in the newspaper. Then came things like 'The gays all belong castrated' and so on. But this boy assumed that his father would see it differently if he knew that his own son was one of them.
He had written his parents a letter before our appointment and told them what was going on. We had barely started the session when his father came in and dragged him out of my office, swearing at him wildly and calling me names – what I had put into his son's head and so on. I only saw how he twice slapped the boy on the way to the car - I still remember the cries of pain to this day. I then called the police and sent them directly to his parents' house.
But it was too late: when his father parked the car in front of the house, he jumped out and ran away. I can only guess what happened next. The police arrived just as he was running away. They followed him in the patrol car and almost caught up with him at the level crossing behind Yorkshire Crescent just as the barriers came down. I guess he saw the train and decided that was his only way out. The police tried to get him off the crossing. The parents came running. He was hit by the train right in front of them.”
I stood up and hugged my mother. “Thanks for not being like that, Mom.” She hugged me tightly. “Nick, you're my only child and I would never let anything happen to you.” We just stood there for a moment before we finally broke away from each other. ‘Hey, if things work out with Davey, you're welcome to bring him around sometime.’ I smiled – I couldn't think of anything else to say.
But one question was bothering me. “How would my dad react if he found out about it? I don't even know if he has any other kids.” Mom lit a cigarette and then blew out the smoke slowly. “I think your dad would feel the same way about it as I do.” Silence. Finally, I asked, “Why don't you tell me more about him?” She sighed. “Okay. I'll tell you a little about him, but only on one condition: never ask me about him again, okay?”
“Do you hate him?” She shook her head. ‘No, on the contrary. I think I'm still a little in love with him.’ ‘I'll never ask you about him again if you promise me something too,’ I suggested. ”And what?” “When I turn eighteen at the latest, I want to try to find him. At least tell me his name then and if you also have his last address, okay? And please don't forbid me to do so.”
She nodded slowly. “Agreed.” She got up, went into the study and came back a few minutes later with a pad and an envelope. Then she pushed the newspaper across to me. “So, you can take a look at the sports section, I have to make a quick note. And don't peek.” The tone of voice allowed no contradiction, so I leafed through the newspaper. There was nothing particularly interesting in it.
Finally, Mom was finished. She folded the sheet and put it in the envelope, which she then sealed. “So, I wrote down his name and address for you. I'll keep this envelope and give it to you on your 18th birthday. Okay?” I nodded. “Okay.”
She poured more coffee and then began to tell her story. “Your dad and I met in 1964 at the high school in Los Angeles. We were together for a few years, it was a wonderful time. But then the chemistry was no longer right, and we decided to separate. It was definitely also because we had both started college. I met Jörg, who was also studying in L.A., and in our youthful recklessness we decided to get married in the summer of love. We went back to his hometown, Hamburg. The marriage didn't last too long, and we divorced in 1972.
I stayed in Hamburg for a while longer and was out with a couple of colleagues one evening when I suddenly ran into your dad in a bar. We both couldn't believe our eyes. He was already married at the time and had a son. However, the atmosphere at home between him and his wife was so bad that he had moved out for the time being. Well, as the feelings and the spirit of the wine would have it, our old love flared up again. We spent a few days together and finally gave our feelings free rein. It was only the next day that we both realized what had happened.
Then your dad got a call from his wife – she was pregnant again. It was a real blow to him, because he didn't know how he would manage. I encouraged him to go back to his wife, because I didn't yet know that I was already carrying you inside me.” “Did you tell him later?” I asked. At that moment, I was terrified that he had no idea I existed. Mom nodded. ”Yes, he knows about you. I wanted you to be born here in England back then. Nick, you are my planned child and your father is the man who should always be the father of my child.”
“How did he react?” ”He wanted to meet you, and you did see each other once, but you were still quite small. The fact that you have no contact was simply because of me – I didn't want to destroy his family. I know Catherine, we were in the same class in high school. I think they're still happy together. And your dad has always supported me when I needed it. When I didn't have a job, he was the one who kept us both afloat.”
“And why are you no longer in contact?” I didn't understand my mother. Apparently, my father was exactly the man I had always imagined. ”I think it was just my wounded pride. I had the opportunity to set up my practice here, and that made me independent of him in every way. I just didn't want to be dependent on him. And I didn't want you to be dependent on him either.”
If she had asked me if I could understand that, I would have had to honestly answer “No.” Fortunately, she didn't ask me that question, and I decided not to press the matter further. “When do you want to meet?” Mom asked me after a while. “Around two, I'll pick him up.” “Okay. I have to go back to the office in a bit, there's been a lot of work to do in the last few days. But Grandma should be here soon, too.”
Ever since I could remember, Grandma had helped us wherever she could. She was 73, but still pretty spry, and she just had the shop under control. I usually liked spending time with her, but right now I needed a little quiet to think about everything Mom had told me... I had thought about the possibility that I might be gay a few times, but I had always dismissed the thought pretty quickly. As I lay on my bed, I tried hard to think of the pros and cons – I guess when your mom's a psychologist, you automatically start analyzing everything over time.
Boys. Girls. Boys. There were more boys than girls in our class, but I couldn't remember ever flirting with anyone, or even thinking about it. The thought just seemed absurd to me... and so far I had always been able to blame it on the fact that I didn't want contact with the others anyway. But when I really thought about it... I looked around my room. Lots of posters on the walls... Ewan McGregor in “Trainspotting”, Jason James Richter in “Free Willy” - I still remembered all too well how I had cried my eyes out at the movie -, Elijah Wood in “Flipper”, some posters of the Backstreet Boys and Hanson... but no girls or women among them.
And then Davey. What had I said to him yesterday? “I like you.” That was pretty much it... for some time now I had felt a slight, warm tingling in my stomach when I thought of him. Sometimes I saw him standing in the schoolyard, far away from everyone else, looking into the distance. A few times I had felt the urge to go to him and take him in my arms, but usually something had happened shortly afterwards that had destroyed that impulse. And now I was glad that we had stumbled across each other so unexpectedly yesterday afternoon.
I fell asleep on this thought until Grandma finally called me from downstairs: “Nick, don't you have a two o'clock appointment?” I jumped up - it was twenty to two. I hastily packed my swimming things and, after saying goodbye to Grandma, set off for Davey's. He was already standing on the corner waiting for me. When he saw me, he smiled shyly. “Hello, Nick.”
It was the first time I had seen that smile and not a grimace or mask. That smile stuck with me. Again, there was an impulse to hug him, but I pulled myself together. Davey got on his bike and we rode to the swimming pool together.
The parking lot was surprisingly empty. “Hm, is it closed today? There's usually more traffic here on weekends.” I nodded and looked around. There was a poster on the front door with information about the town festival. Of course, that was taking place this weekend, which was why there was no one here. Since I had never been interested in such events, I hadn't even noticed it.
We paid, changed, and met up again a few minutes later in the shower. I caught myself looking at Davey from top to bottom a few times when I thought I was unobserved. He was actually quite well built, a bit skinny, but he had nothing to be ashamed of. I slowly let my gaze wander from top to bottom and back over his body, and when I came back to his face, I looked him straight in the eye. I felt myself blushing. Neither of us said anything, instead we went into the water in silence and did a few laps.
The pool was pretty empty, too. The lifeguard was lying in a deck chair, looking around every now and then to see if everything was all right, but he didn't pay us any special attention. We had a little swimming and diving contest, and after a while we had completely forgotten what had happened in the shower. I enjoyed the sight of Davey's body gliding through the water. I felt as if the conversation I'd had with my mother that morning had opened up new doors for me.
“Once across the pool, without taking a breath, always underwater?” Davey suggested when he'd arrived next to me again. I nodded. ”Okay, go.” We both took a deep breath and dived in. As on the previous occasions, I was a good two seconds faster than Davey, but when I arrived at the bottom, he didn't surface behind me. I looked around, searching – which wasn't that easy, because my eyes were burning from the chlorinated water – and suddenly felt a hand on my back. Before I knew it, I felt someone taking off my swimming trunks. A few seconds later, Davey emerged from behind me – at a certain distance. He grinned. “Missing anything?”
I grinned back. ‘Yes, for now.’ Without waiting for an answer, I dove in, and since I had been standing right at the edge of the pool, I was able to push off. But Davey had expected that – when I resurfaced, he had already moved well away. He was still grinning. “I'll give them back to you, but only for a ransom.” Why not? ‘Okay, I'll buy you a coke. Deal?’ ‘Okay. Catch!’ The next moment I had my swimming trunks in my face, but the throw wasn't meant maliciously or anything. Davey doubled over with laughter when he saw my face.
I put my swimming trunks back on. “Come on, let's get going. Who knows how long the shops will be open today.” He nodded and then swam past me in a wide arc, obviously afraid that I would retaliate for his little attack. I didn't, and I think that was a good thing.
Just as we went to shower, Davey realized that he had lost the key to his locker. “I'll be right back,” he called to me. “Do you want me to help you look?” “No, I think I know where it is.” Sure enough, just as I finished showering, he came back in holding the missing object like a trophy. “Okay, see you in a minute,” I grinned and disappeared in the direction of the cubicles.
Slowly it became more crowded - I thought I remembered seeing something about senior swimming in the entrance hall. Well, I didn't want to change in front of all those other gentlemen, so I grabbed the last free cubicle. Just as I had finished drying myself, I heard Davey's voice. “Nick, are you around here?” I opened the cabin door and waved my swimming trunks. He pushed past two other bathers and then came into the cabin with me. “Phew, it's a bit quieter in here.”
He took off his swimming trunks and began to dry himself off without paying any further attention to me. I just stared at him for a few seconds, then turned around and started to get dressed. When I looked over at him out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a smirk on his face, but he didn't say anything. I wondered for a while whether I should say something, but in the end I got dressed in silence. When we were outside, a rather cold wind blew towards us. “Do you mind if we have the coke at my place?” He shook his head. “No, not at all.”
To my surprise, Mom was home when we arrived. I introduced the two to each other – the usual banter when you bring a school friend home. Mom didn't let on about our conversation; she gave Davey a warm welcome, then handed me a bottle of coke and two glasses and sent us upstairs. Davey looked around my room while he took off his jacket. “You seem to have a thing for boys, don't you?” I filled our glasses to the brim, hoping he wouldn't notice how much my hand was shaking.