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The Summer of Our Lives
Why don't I, idiot that I am, finally get out of the sun? I'll probably be as red as a tomato tomorrow, and my skin will peel off in slices, because even though I'm not extremely fair-skinned—after hours of roasting in the sun, I'm well done too. I shift my position a bit, and my eyes wander again over the top edge of the book on page fifty-three, where I've been stuck for almost an hour. No wonder, after all, I barely glance at the letters crowding there and vying for my attention—I only see HIM. HE lies on the towel next to me on the beach of the swimming lake, and I can't remember ever seeing anyone more relaxed lying on a towel. – No, definitely not.
Since this morning, it's finally summer vacation, and the sun is being kind to us. Unlike almost every other major vacation I can remember, this year seems to be a real summer. Actually, I have every reason to be in a good mood because I'm free, my report card was quite good, and since I worked part-time at my father's company during the school year, I can enjoy the whole vacation without having to do a summer job like many of my classmates. Everything would be perfect if it weren't for …
I lift my gaze again and glance at HIM once more.
By the way, HIS name is Jan, he's eighteen years old like me, and the absolute heartthrob of our school. Well, as you can see from me, not only the girls are into him. But you'd have to be completely blind and deaf not to fall for him. He's a little over one meter eighty (I'd estimate), slim, athletic, has dark, almost black hair that he always messes up so artfully that you just want to tousle it, and he has brown eyes with long, silky lashes. His face is gorgeous, and I would give my right arm just to kiss those wonderful, full, curved lips once. Unfortunately, I'm not alone in that. Pretty much all the girls in my grade—and even some from the one below—are crazy about this guy. Now and then, he goes out with one or the other, but he doesn't seem to want to commit, my sweet Casanova. And so he breaks girls' hearts one after another and always has a witty remark ready.
And me? Well, I'm just … Dennis. Boring name—boring guy. Medium height, medium brown hair, average grades. I think everything about me is mediocre. What can I really say about myself? There's nothing special about me. Except that I'm in love with Jan. The degree of my infatuation I would definitely not describe as mediocre but rather as quite intense.
I see how the now already setting sun caresses his tanned skin and elicits a tiny sparkle from the fine hairs on his legs and arms. Without wanting to, my gaze lingers again on his swim shorts, and I wish I lived in a time when swim trunks were not baggy, saggy rags but made of stretch fabric and really only covered the essentials.
Now he turns his head and opens his eyes at the same moment. They shoot a small flash into mine, which are still scrutinizing him over the edge of the book. I quickly look back at the page and hope he hasn't noticed. Just as well that I already have a red face from all the sun, so it probably doesn't show that I'm suddenly getting a little hotter.
"Do you like what you see?" he asks me very quietly.
I look around frantically: The few people from our grade who are still here are splashing around in the water. It's just Mark, Sandra, Andi, and Jens left to disturb our cozy twosome, and at least in this moment, they seem to have neither eyes nor ears for us.
"What do you mean?" I ask stupidly and still believe I behaved so inconspicuously that he couldn't have noticed anything.
"Well, you're watching me. – You haven't turned the page in ages," he says.
I quickly turn the page and pretend to be completely absorbed in the story. I place a finger on a random spot on the page, lower the book a bit, dare to look directly at him, and ask confusedly, "What?"
A real actor was lost in me.
"Don't pretend," he says. "But go ahead—doesn't bother me."
He closes his eyes again, opens his lips a little, licks his lower lip with his pink tongue tip, and stretches shamelessly on his towel. He places one hand under his head, with the fingertips of the other, he lightly strokes his thigh. Am I mistaken, or did he actually push his pelvis forward a bit? – I'm getting hot again. I really need to get out of the sun.
I see the other four coming out of the water, heading towards us, and I sink back into my book. Sandra walks directly to Jan and shakes the water from her hair onto him. In a split second, he jumps up, grabs her, and carries her back to the lake. He throws her into the water, jumps in after her, and dunks her. How I envy her! He touched her … The others are laughing themselves to death, and of course, I join in, even though I actually feel like running away.
"We're leaving soon," Jens says. "Are you coming tomorrow, Dennis?"
That he's addressing me directly probably has to do with the fact that Jan is still in the water.
"Yeah, sure. Why not?" I answer.
This is not the way I'm usually invited. It's rarely sentences like "Are you coming too?" or "Are you coming, Dennis?" but rather sentences like "You're all coming, right?" or "Are we going there tomorrow?" which I just assume are meant for me, and I show up at the event. Apparently, it's okay because no one has complained so far. It doesn't bother me that obviously no one really cares if I'm there. The main thing is THAT I'm there. Especially if my Jan is there too.
Now he's coming back with Sabine, dripping from the water, and flops down on his towel. I have to concentrate not to stare again, after all, the others are still there. Still, I have to risk another glance. The water drips from his dark hair and runs down his back. I see a single drop of water hanging from his earlobe, catching the sunlight...
"... Dennis?"
I flinch when I hear my name. Jan's brown headlights fix on me - an indecipherable smile playing around his lips. Damn, I really need to pull myself together.
"Uh... what?" I ask, as my ears get so hot they feel like they're about to explode: He's caught me again.
"I asked if you could take me with you," Jan asks. "The others want to leave now, and I'd like to dry off a bit more in the sun. - I don't have a second pair of swim trunks with me."
I gape at him like a complete idiot: Is he trying to tell me that we'll be alone here soon?
"Uh, yeah, sure. I can do that," I say, and before I can really come to my senses again, the four of them have said goodbye and we're sitting alone in the slowly changing sunlight from gold to red.
I pick up my book again and continue reading - at least I try to - while he lies there motionless.
Jan turns onto his side and props his head in his hand. He looks directly at me.
I lower the book and ask a bit too harshly: "What?"
He reaches out and places his hand on my knee.
"Are you in love with me?" he asks quietly.
A drop of water runs down right next to his left eye. The weight and warmth of his hand and the roughness of his voice almost take my breath away.
"Are you crazy?" I ask loudly, push his hand aside, and stand up. "Do I look like a fag?"
Shit! How does he know? No one could have told him, after all, I guard this secret like a state treasure. I can't even imagine if anyone finds out that I, little homo, am in love with the biggest heartthrob in school. I need to pull myself together better; I need to become even less noticeable. I vow not to stare at him anymore, even though I know I'll break this resolution faster than thunder follows lightning. He's just too... no, stop now! From now on, staring is forbidden!
"We have to go now," I hear myself say.
I look at the clock. It's almost nine.
"My parents will freak out if I get home this late."
That's a blatant lie, but it's an acceptable excuse. Then I shovel my stuff into the sports bag, slip into my shorts, and put on my T-shirt. When I turn around - still angry - I see that Jan is packing up too. In this light, it almost looks like he's blushing.
During the drive home, we remain silent. Luckily, the drive to his house only takes about twenty minutes, and my HIM CD is playing on the car radio, so it's just bearable. Then we're finally there, and I'm finally freed from his presence. I stop in front of the house, and Jan takes his bag from the footwell in the front.
"Listen, Dennis," he says quietly and turns to me again before he actually gets out, "I'm sorry about before. - I didn't mean to... oh, I don't know... I'm just sorry."
He opens the door and gets out.
"It's okay," I say and stare at my steering wheel.
"Are you going to the beach tomorrow too?" he asks.
"Sure," I say and have no idea what devil drives me when I ask him, "Should I pick you up?"
Despite everything, I obviously can't keep my hands off him.
"That would be great." He beams at me. "At two?"
I nod, say "See you tomorrow then..." and start the engine. Better get out of here before I say or do something stupid. In the rearview mirror, I see him watching me until I disappear around the next corner.
Chapter 2 – He's doing thatm on purpose!

On the way to Jan's, I decide to simply ignore yesterday's incident—as if nothing happened. Actually, nothing did happen. If I'm a bit lucky, he won't mention it either. For a change, I could use a bit of luck, I think. Well, I can't claim that I'm really badly off in life, at least as far as external circumstances are concerned. Both my parents work, we have our own house where my brother and I each have our own room. That is, actually, only I have my room there now because my brother no longer lives at home since he started his studies.
Oh yes, and I have my own car, which I worked hard for during the holidays and alongside school. This puts me well ahead of many of my classmates. Okay, it's just a Corsa, but at least it's black, I managed that much!
I park and go to the house where Jan lives. Just as I'm about to ring the bell, the door flies open, and he almost falls into my arms.
"Let's just get out of here. It's tense at my place."
From the slowly closing door, I can hear his father shouting something after him, which I can't understand. He doesn't respond, walks past me to the car, and I get the impression he's fleeing.
As we drive away from the house, I cautiously ask him, "Are you having trouble at home?"
"Yeah, you could say that," he replies curtly, then remains so silent that I don't dare to ask further questions.
Still silent, we arrive at the lake and carry our bags to the bay, where we're greeted by the others, but my sweet Jan isn't really present today. Neither am I, accordingly. I constantly feel the need to be near him, to support him, even if he doesn't ask for it, let alone notice. Most of the time, he just lies there staring ahead. I feel so incredibly sorry for him, and I wish for nothing more than to take him in my arms and comfort him, but of course, I don't. Daniela takes care of that for me—and I hate her for it. For weeks now, she's been fawning over my darling, hovering around him whenever she sees him, and never misses a chance to touch him, and today he's defenseless against her.
"Hey, what's up with you today?" she asks, ingratiating herself and sitting down next to him on the towel. I glare at her back, but obviously, it doesn't harm her, as she slides even closer to him and places her paw on his arm. Now she's crumpling the fluff there with her hand and doesn't even notice that she's annoying him.
"Oh, nothing," he says. "Forget it."
But of course, she doesn't—for the opposite. She stays there like a discarded sandbag and continues to ingratiate herself.
"If there's anything I can do for you..."
Meanwhile, her finger runs over his arm, making me almost sick.
And then the truly terrible happens! I think I catch a brief glance from him over her shoulder, then he wraps his arm around her and kisses her. Right in front of my eyes! And I just can't look away because I'm so horrified. I mean, I've seen him kiss girls before—that's not it. It's just... I don't even know exactly. Of all people, Daniela! And of all times, now. I had thought... Oh, I'm an idiot! Did I really believe he meant it seriously when his hand was on my knee? Or when he apologized, was there really something in his voice that made me perk up? I guess once again, wishful thinking was the father of the thought. Instead, I've been made a fool of. Dennis Maibaum, you are and remain a fool! Maybe, for a change, you should fall in love with someone where there's even a hint of a chance that they might return your love.
Oh, man! I turn away, but I can still hear them smooching behind my back. I get up and go into the water. Wow, it's cold. Doesn't matter—just dive in, submerge, and never come back to the surface, everything here is crap anyway. I start swimming, stroke by stroke, moving away from the others.
I can hear Jens calling after me: "Hey, Dennis, where are you going?"
But I just keep going. Just away. Away from Jan, from Daniela, from the other idiots who simply have no clue.
At another part of the lake where the bushes grow almost to the shore, I get out of the water, exhausted, and let myself fall onto the gravel. Until this moment, I could hold back the tears, but now they push their way out, whether I want them to or not. I sit there, wrap my arms around my knees, rest my head on them, and sob. At least the others can't hear me here. And so what! I don't care! Jan is really an asshole. He did it on purpose, or why else would he have looked at me so stupidly before? What is he trying to prove to me? That he's the big womanizer and won't let a little queer like me hit on him? Such a lousy jerk! I cry and get upset until I'm even more exhausted than I already was.
With red eyes, I stare at the water. I am so tired. I would love to just curl up here and fall asleep. How am I supposed to get back? I'm not sure if I can swim the whole way back with this huge anger in my stomach. Oh man, I'm such a loser.
When I finally manage to muster the energy to start the return journey, the sun is already low again. I walk along the edge of the shore as much as possible and swim where it's not possible. Of course, it takes me significantly longer than before, but I make it back to our bay. Swimming, of course, because I don't want to let anything slide. Most of my classmates are already gone. Daniela too. Jan is still there, lying on his stomach and reading. In my book! I'm freaking out!
"Hey, you could have at least asked first," I grumble instead of a greeting.
"How, when you disappear for hours?"
Ouch, that's a point!
"Besides, I was bored after you left," he says and looks at me with his puppy eyes.
I'm not in the mood for reconciliation; I'm still mad about Daniela.
"You could have made out with Dani a bit more, then the time would have flown by."
Then I quickly snatch the book from his hand, close it, and pack it in my bag. I turn my back on him, which is good because otherwise, he would see how much I'm suffering.
I dry myself off and say coldly, "I have to go now. If you want to come, pack your stuff."
I ignore the fact that he flinches and then immediately jumps up. He must have packed very quickly because when I turn around, he's already standing there with his bag in hand.
"Should I take yours too? You must still be exhausted from swimming," he says, extending his hand hesitantly.
"Never mind, I'm not such a wimp," I say boastfully and hope he doesn't notice how my knees are still shaking from the effort.
We trudge one after the other along the narrow path that connects the bay to the road, silently ignoring each other. I stare at the ground. His feet, stuffed in sneakers without socks, come into view. I slowly pan the camera upwards, observing his calves, thighs, his nice butt. Higher. No, I can't look away, staring at his rear moving in his shorts as if I were watching a porn. Only when I slowly but surely start to get an erection do I look away. The sight of his narrow hips and broad shoulders doesn't exactly help. If I keep going, I think, I'll have a raging hard-on by the time we reach the car. And he'll notice. I think about how he kissed Dani and the look he gave me before that. That helps; I get angry at him again. Yes, anger is definitely better.
I drive him home, and again we silently ignore each other.
Just before getting out, he says, "Sorry for just taking your book. I had so much on my mind, I needed to think about something else."
It's almost funny that he's apologizing again as he leaves my car.
"It's okay. It's not that dramatic," I say, blushing.
How far did he read? Did he immediately notice that it's about a gay boy? What does that tell him about me?
"Would... would you maybe lend it to me? I mean, when you're done with it," he asks, staring at the bag on his lap.
"What?" I ask stupidly—I think I'm not hearing right; what kind of game is this now?
"Well, I mean, it started pretty well. And... oh, forget it, I hardly have time to read anyway."
"Sure, I can lend it to you," I almost interrupt him.
Good heavens, we're talking nonsense here.
He places his hand on the door handle like yesterday. I think I'm having déjà vu.
"Listen, with Dani... there's nothing. I mean, she's not my girlfriend or anything," he says quickly. It seems important to him that I know that. But why? It's his business who he messes around with.
"And even if, it's none of my business. - I don't care," I say, and if lying hurt, I'd have to scream like never before in my life.
He looks at me confused, as if expecting a different answer. Then he slightly shakes his head and leaves the car.
"What about tomorrow?" he asks from outside.
"I can't tomorrow," I say, even though it's not true, but I really need a day alone to see where I stand. If I'm constantly around him, it won't work, as I've seen today.
"Oh," he says, looking a bit disappointed.
"Call Karsten, he'll probably do a little round too," I say.
Karsten lives on the other side of town and doesn't pass by the lake like I do, but I'm sure he'll make an exception.
"Yeah, we'll see," he says, hesitates briefly, but then slams the door shut.
I speed off, casting the obligatory glance in the rearview mirror and see that he's staring after me again.
Chapter 3 – My Day

So, this day belongs to me. Just me alone. I absolutely need to sort out my thoughts, and while I'm at it, my feelings too. It can't go on like this.
I'm still lying in my bed with my eyes closed, the sun already tickling me through the half-open blinds, but I can still hold onto this pleasant, heavy, warm feeling when you're no longer asleep but not quite awake yet. Unfortunately, not for long, because as soon as I'm fully awake, all the muscles in my body hurt. At first, I have no idea where this is coming from, but then I remember my outing on the lake. Can anyone make a bigger fool of themselves than I did? Hardly...
I think of Jan, imagining him lying in his bed now, also being woken by the sun. He only wears shorts at night, stretches, pushes his blanket halfway aside, and I can catch a glimpse of his leg, tanned by the sun, contrasting with the light sheet. He runs his hand over his chest and... Stop! Wait, have I lost it? I didn't want to think about him anymore, at least not like that. This has to stop, and right now. He's just a stupid straight guy and an asshole because he messes around with every girl. He doesn't deserve my love.
I wait for my anger from yesterday to return, but nothing happens. On the contrary. Instead of his brazen look before he kissed Dani, I suddenly only think about how unhappy he looked when I picked him up. As if someone was after him. And I think about how he apologized to me in the car. Was that really sincere or is he just a damn good actor? I don't know. And as long as I don't know, I can't trust him. He suspects something about me, I'm sure of that, and I can't risk him fooling me and eventually exposing me completely. No, it's better if I keep some distance before I get wrapped around his finger.
Slowly but surely, I start thinking about getting up. I'm glad the house belongs to me today. My parents are at work, and everything is quiet. I push the blanket aside and swing my legs out of bed. Ouch! Sore muscles. This action already reminds me of my foolishness from yesterday, how am I supposed to get through the day?
I pull up the blinds with my weak arms, drag myself to the bathroom like an old man, and let hot water run over my body for what feels like an eternity until I feel somewhat mobile again. Then I wrap a towel around my hips and prepare for the big reckoning with myself.
I stand in front of the large mirror in my parents' bedroom. My still damp hair sticks to my head, and even after ruffling it with my fingers, I can't find anything good or interesting, let alone sexy about it. The color is unremarkable, and I don't really have a hairstyle either. The rest of my body is... well... just normal! – like everything else. Normal and boring. I'm not particularly tall, but not really short either, I don't have an ounce of fat on my ribs, but there's hardly any sign of muscles either. My skin is tanned, at least where the sun has reached it, but the shade is far from Jan's dreamy olive-gold tone. My skin has rather taken on a dull, dirty brown.
So, now comes the moment of truth. I pull the towel away and let it fall to the floor. – Would I like myself if I were someone else? Preferably another guy? I consciously forbid myself from thinking of a certain name, but the moment I forbid it, I do it anyway. Would Jan like me? Ridiculous: Compared to his dream body, mine looks like a girl's, I think. Worse still: like a girl's without breasts. I close my eyes. And then I see him standing in front of me. Oh yes, I know what he looks like. Everywhere. Physical education does have its advantages – at least the showering afterward.
He looks at me and smiles. He is beautiful. His skin is olive-colored, with a few dark hairs shining on it. His short, dark hair is always in orderly disarray - I'll never understand how he manages that. He's about half a head taller than me and much more muscular. Unlike me, he already looks like a real man.
I open my eyes again, and it's obvious how crazy I am about him. Even though I'm alone, I'm embarrassed to be standing in my parents' bedroom with an erection, and I wrap my towel around my hips again and go back to my room.
After resisting the urge to masturbate and instead getting dressed, I go down to the kitchen and make myself breakfast. Coffee, toast, butter, and jam go on the table, and to celebrate the day, I treat myself to a boiled egg. I skim through the newspaper while chewing and wonder what I want to do with this day. I have no idea. I'd most like to see Jan. But I want to stick to my decision to spend the day alone. I'm already confused enough, and I can probably manage a day without him.
I put my dishes in the dishwasher and sweep the crumbs off the table. Then I know what I'll do. I check my finances, which look pretty good thanks to my steady side income and frugal lifestyle, and decide to finally splurge a little on myself. I stuff the wallet into my pocket, grab my keys from the hook, and leave the house. Even though it's still quite early, my car is already an oven because it's parked right in the sun. Serves me right, it just had to be black, I think as I let the shimmering air escape through the rolled-down windows.
Then I get in and let myself be grilled through the windshield while the wind almost blows me out of the side window. Sweaty and even more disheveled than before, I arrive in the city.
My first stop is the hairdresser. I can't answer the question of whether I have a specific idea for my future hairstyle.
"No idea," I say. "Something fun, whatever's possible with my fluff."
The hairdresser is pleased that I'm giving him more or less free rein and eagerly brings over some sample books. He runs his fingers through my hair a few times and then shows me what he thinks is doable. It looks like I'll have to say goodbye to a short, tousled hairstyle like Jan's. The expert says my hair is too fine for that—I would call it fuzzy, but if he says so... After all, he's the expert.
But fine, I trustingly place myself in his hands and just hope I can manage it at home too. He snips a little here, a little there, and hair falls around me to the floor. Then I undergo the humiliating process of getting highlights. Hopefully, no one sees me sitting here with this bathing cap from which tufts of hair stick out everywhere. But I'm lucky: Most people have better things to do in this heat than sweat their butts off on a faux leather chair.
After about an hour and a half, I barely recognize myself in the mirror. I look like a member of a boy band, I think. My hair is still relatively long, at least on top, and falls diagonally across my forehead. In the back, it's only neck-length and looks kind of fringed, just like the bangs. It's also much lighter than before. With highlights in various shades of blonde, it's much brighter and I like it a lot better than the mousey gray-brown from before.
The scissor artist looks at me in the mirror, seeking applause, while he moves around me with the hand mirror. I reward him first with a wide grin, later tossing my change into his tip piggy bank.
As I walk through the city, I look into every shop window. Less because of the displayed goods, more because I can't get enough of my new hairstyle. Man, I love myself!
So, now the next project. I enter the first clothing store. Since I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking for, I start at H&M because you can hardly go wrong there. I dig through heaps of pants, shirts, and blouses, and on the way to the fitting room, I almost collapse under the massive pile. Good thing the fitting rooms here are so big, otherwise, I wouldn't fit in with all the stuff.
Trying on clothes makes me incredibly warm. The air conditioning inside is clearly not designed for changing clothes every minute. But I bravely push through my routine, and in the end, the "yes pile" grows significantly faster than the "no pile."
When I leave the store with two bulging bags, I beam as brightly as the sun. I'm slowly starting to enjoy the day I'm spending with myself. I buy an ice cream, sit with it on a bench, and watch the passing people while alternating between tasting chocolate and lemon.
During a chocolate moment, I even dare to smile at the cute blonde guy who hurries past me. He looks really sweet as he glances around shyly, only to realize that I actually mean him. He shyly smiles back but continues on, and I wonder if he'll remember me later.
I nibble away the remains of the ice cream cone, which I managed to eat without incident despite the heat, and am about to set off again, but then I lean back on my bench once more, resting my arms on the backrest in a macho manner. I squint into the sun, and it occurs to me what I absolutely have to buy now.
I park in our driveway, get out of the car, and retrieve the bags from the trunk. Two more have joined the first two, and I look like a pack mule. I'm broke—but happy! At least now I know what I've been working for all this time while the others went out for a beer in the evenings.
In the hallway, I take off the sunglasses—also a new purchase—and look in the mirror. Even though I'm a bit sweaty from driving, I still like myself a lot.
After drinking half a bottle of water in one go, I spread the new clothes out on my bed. I bought some jeans, especially this one caught my eye. It's a bit baggy, has patch pockets, and sits nicely low on my slim hips. Unfortunately, it's way too hot outside for that at the moment. The two short pants that reach just above the knee and also look pretty cool are more suitable.
Thoughtfully, I take the black pants in my hand, which I just couldn't hang back, even though I have no idea if and on what occasion I'll ever wear them. They are - as I said - black, very slim cut and - without wanting to brag - my butt looks phenomenal in them. Also, they sit so sinfully low on the hips that I almost need a license for them.
The selection of shirts is also impressive. Most are cool but suitable for everyday wear, only one I bought specifically for these black pants. It's black with a little red and doesn't have real sleeves, it basically stops at the shoulders, and I liked it so much that I didn't even mind that my upper arms don't show pronounced muscle packs.
I open my wardrobe and sort it out. Hard and ruthless. Dennis Maibaum doesn't wear this stuff anymore, I decide, and outdated pants and baggy shirts fly over my shoulder behind me. In the end, there's a pile of stuff I no longer need on my bed, and I hang the new things in the closet. However, they can only moderately fill the gaps, and it looks like I'll have to go shopping again occasionally, I think. However, I must save my finances for a while beforehand, or I'll end up with pockets turned inside out.
I pack the sorted-out clothes into plastic bags, tie them up, and put them in the hallway. Maybe my mother has an idea of what to do with them. She surely knows a place where you can donate used clothing.
If today were a normal day, I might be worried about evening plans now, but not today, because I already have a date! And it's with myself. I've stashed a bottle of wine in my room, which I'll leisurely enjoy while surfing the internet.
Around six o'clock, my parents come home.
My mother almost stumbles over the bags in the hallway and asks in surprise, "What's this here?" Then she calls me: "Dennniis! Is this your stuff?"
I stick my head out of the kitchen, where I'm just topping a pizza. My cooking skills aren't outstanding, but as the son of working parents, you pick up one recipe or another over time. You have no choice if you don't want to starve but also don't want to constantly eat at Burger King.
"Yes," I say, "I've sorted out some clothes. Do you know if I can donate them somewhere where they'll be reused?"
She looks at me and is about to answer, but her mouth stays open without a sound coming out.
"What... How..."
She comes up to me, grabs me by the shoulders, and turns me around.
"That looks great!" she then says and beams at me. "How did you come up with that?"
"Oh," I say, "I just let the hairdresser do their thing. Do you really like it?"
"Yes," she says, smiling. "I didn't know I had such a handsome son."
Then her tone becomes conspiratorial.
"Or is there someone special behind this?"
I can't prevent myself from blushing a bit and quickly say, "No, nobody. I just felt like it."
Damn, she'll never believe that. Now she's probably convinced that something's going on. She surely thinks I have a girlfriend now. Hopefully, I can talk her out of that.
I put the pizza in the oven, and we have a coffee together, which neither of us can do without despite the heat. I've obviously inherited the caffeine addiction directly from my parents. Meanwhile, I tell them about my shopping trip. Of course, I leave out my tiny flirt with the cute boy. Still, I have the feeling that my mother keeps looking at me strangely. Maybe she just needs to get used to the new haircut.
We eat together, and I spend the rest of the evening exactly as I planned. I resist the urge to call any of my classmates and arrange to meet. Instead, I slowly sip one glass of wine after another, get nicely tipsy, and hop from one website to the next. Meanwhile, my current favorite music, in this case, "Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas, drips into my ears from my headphones. Right after that comes "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol. Yes, I admit it, I'm into love songs at the moment, which must be due to my state of acute infatuation, but I just can't help it.
After visiting eBay, some music sites, and other trivial stuff, I finally open the pages that really interest me. Unfortunately, out of fear of discovery, I don't dare to add them to my favorites, so I have to dig out the note from the drawer and manually enter the addresses every time. And now I'm back again, diving into a world as foreign to my real one as possible.
Here, everyone is like me. I don't need to pretend; I can admit that I'm head over heels in love with a boy, and I get virtual support because others feel the same way. Many things have become easier since I first dared to open this page a few weeks ago. Back then, I sat in front of the screen with red ears, feeling like I was doing something forbidden, but now it's like meeting up with my acquaintances somewhere.
I chat a bit with someone I've met there several times, although I don't commit to any appointments, neither online nor in real life. I reveal as little as possible about my personal data, only disclosing my age, and I only respond to the nickname I've given myself. I call myself "Sad_Boy" because I felt so terrible the day I registered that nothing else would have fit.
My virtual friend is having trouble with his sweetheart. "At least you have one," I write to him, and because I know that won't help much, I add that he should definitely talk to him again if the relationship is important to him. He says he's already done that, but these situations keep arising, and he's slowly had enough. Now I'm almost glad that I'm spared such nonsense at the moment. Still... it would be nice to have someone to belong to.
He advises me to take the plunge and tell Jan what's going on. He doesn't believe Jan will spread it around, as he's already sent out too many signals himself. He suspects that there's also some interest from Jan's side, but Jan doesn't dare to be more explicit because he has the same fears as I do or doesn't even know which side he's on yet.
Hmm, I hadn't seen it that way before. On the other hand, he doesn't know him, and he doesn't know how people at our school talk about gays. I have no desire to make my last school year hell. Until graduation, I really have other worries than being mocked or even beaten up every day.
We chat for a while about this and that, and at some point, I realize I'm getting too drunk to find sensible words, so I say goodbye and instead look at some book recommendations. Maybe I'll finally manage to finish reading "Summer Storm," and then I could use some new material.
I shouldn't have thought about that because it immediately reminds me of how Jan was lying on the beach reading it. He somehow seemed caught when I took it away from him, and later he even asked me if I would lend it to him. Now I'm sure he already knew what it was about. Then I think again about his face when he apologized to me, and from there, the journey goes backward. His hand on my knee, his fingers hovering over his own thigh. I've long since closed my eyes, and a hand wanders into my pants where a strong erection has already formed.
I don't need long, even though I'm quite drunk, but after all, I know what I like. Well, at least one person in this world knows, I think, and start to giggle.
Later, when I see myself in the bathroom mirror in my sleep shorts and T-shirt, I'm still grinning. I blow myself a kiss and thank myself for the nice day.
Chapter 4 – Now He's Totally Nuts
Unexpectedly, I've managed to style my hair almost as well as the hairdresser did yesterday. I have to admit, I was a bit worried when I got out of the shower looking like a drenched poodle, but after using all the tricks and products he gave me, I can definitely be seen again.
I waste the morning at home and almost leave too late to be on time at Jan's. He seemed genuinely happy about my call this morning, and he probably was even more pleased not to have to take the bus to the lake for hours but to be comfortably chauffeured by me. But what the heck? I'm going there anyway, so I might as well take him along. I'm curious if he'll have to apologize to me again this evening, I think, grinning stupidly as I arrive at his place.
He's already standing outside the house, and I glance at the clock in a hurry, but despite the late departure, I'm still on time. Although he looks irresistible in his shorts and light blue T-shirt, something seems off. He looks gloomy, but I refuse to believe that my absence yesterday is the reason.
When getting in, he greets briefly, and as he turns to the side and reaches for the seatbelt, he inhales sharply through his teeth, as if he hurt himself. I wonder what's wrong with him but don't dare to ask because he looks so grim and turns his head away from me. I'm disappointed that he hasn't noticed my rather obvious change.
Great, today we're silent with each other again. It's going to be a fantastic day. Good thing I packed my book again.
Today Jan doesn't take off his T-shirt. He sits on his towel, arms wrapped around his knees, staring ahead. Is he afraid I'll look at something of his, or what? I put on my sunglasses, open my book, and lower my gaze. The tinted lenses offer me unexpected possibilities.
I look over at the others. The girls are sitting together like a flock of hens, chattering and clucking, probably about boys as usual. Dani occasionally throws a longing glance at Jan, from whom she surprisingly keeps her distance today. She probably expected more from their kissing than he did. I have no sympathy for her. Serves her right. Why is she throwing herself at my sweetheart?
I glance back at Jan. He hasn't moved in the last few minutes. A dark sweat trail forms on his back, and I don't understand why he's still wearing his shirt. I glance over at the others again. No one is looking in our direction.
I dare to make a move: "You don't need to be afraid, I'm not taking anything away from you," I say quietly, hoping it sounds as funny as intended.
"Sorry, what?"
His head turns slowly to me. He looks like I've brought him back to reality from far away. That's probably how I sometimes look when he talks to me, I think.
"I... um..."
Now he's thrown me off balance.
"Aren't you too warm?" I then ask.
He looks at me and doesn't answer. I realize that he can't see me, or rather my eyes, and therefore doesn't know that I'm slowly but surely genuinely concerned, so I take off my glasses and look directly at him.
He still says nothing, and I get the impression he's searching for something in my eyes. I have no idea if he found it or not because he just slowly shakes his head, gives me one last look from his beautiful dark eyes, and then turns away again.
I don't understand what's happening here, but the desire to just put my arm around him and comfort him becomes overwhelming, so I have to flee to avoid doing something foolish.
"Is anyone coming into the water?" I call to the others, but they're all too lazy.
Manuela lazily turns her head, seems to consider it for a moment, and then gets up.
"I'll come with you," she says and follows me.
We fool around a bit in the water, and I'm glad she's there because I get along best with her. She's a great buddy and the only girl I don't feel uneasy around, not even when we're alone.
Now we're sitting on the edge, dipping our feet in the water, watching the surfers further out who just don't want to accept that it's almost windless.
"I love your new haircut," she says, ruffling my hair, "even if it's totally ruined now."
"Thanks," I say. "Then the ordeal was worth it. I almost melted at the hairdresser's."
"Yeah," she laughs, "I can imagine."
And then she tells me how awful it is to endure a perm for hours.
"What's going on with Jan?" she asks suddenly.
"Why?" I ask back.
Oh no, has she noticed something too? Am I that transparent?
"Well, he hasn't said a word all day, sitting there with his T-shirt on... I thought he might have told you something. You two are friends, right?"
She looks at me openly, and I calm down a bit. She probably doesn't know anything.
"He hasn't said anything to me either," I reply.
"Do you think it has something to do with Dani?!" she asks.
"I can't imagine," I reply a bit too quickly. That's the last thing I need, for her to think he's pining after her. "He said it didn't mean anything."
"He should have thought about that beforehand. I didn't find the whole thing very straightforward. I mean, if he didn't realize she wanted something from him, he must be as blind as a mole."
Yeah, I think. He really is sometimes.
"No idea, I didn't really catch all of it," I say to avoid delving further into the topic – just the thought of the kissing makes my stomach turn again.
"Oh right," she says, "that was when you were gone for half the afternoon. Where were you, anyway?"
"I wanted to see how far I could swim," I lie, determined not to tell anyone about the little cove I discovered. Maybe I'll need it again someday.
"Sometimes you're really strange," she says.
"At least say 'mysterious,' it sounds more interesting," I say, and she grins.
"Weirdo."
When I return to my towel and book, Jan has turned onto his stomach, and his eyes are closed. But I know he's awake – no idea why. Suddenly I become bold.
"Next time you have to come with me," I say and nudge him on the side.
"Ouch! Watch it!", he yells at me as if I had beaten him. He jumps up and glares at me. Then he realizes that everyone is looking at him, and he sits back down cross-legged.
"Sorry," I say quickly, and I mean it, even though I have no idea what I did wrong.
"Whatever I did to you."
I take my book, turn my back on him, and open it. I don't understand the world anymore. This guy drives me crazy. I mean, I should be angry now because he yelled at me like that, but primarily I feel sorry for him. I would love to help him if he would just let me.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way," I hear quietly behind my back. "It's just..." He takes a deep breath. "Oh, forget it."
Alright, he's won again, and I give in. That seems to be my main task in this strange relationship anyway.
"It's just what?" I ask instead of accepting his apology—with the gentlest voice I can manage.
He shakes his head, can't even look at me, and I don't understand him again. Where has my sunny boy gone, who is almost always cheerful and always has a witty remark ready? It almost seems like I'm not the only one who has fundamentally changed in the last few days.
This time he doesn't apologize when I drop him off at home, after all, he already did that at the beach. Still, he hesitates to get out.
"Hey, would you mind if I copied it?" he finally asks.
By "it," he means the HIM CD, which I'm currently playing almost nonstop in the car.
"You like HIM?" I ask him, confused. So far, I had the impression that he merely tolerated the music during the ride rather than actually liking it.
"Well, if you listen to it often enough, it's not so bad," he says.
"Alright," I say and press the button for the radio to eject the disc.
I pluck it from the slot and hand it to him. Why on earth do I have the feeling that the CD is just an excuse?
"If you want, you can come up and take it with you right away," he suggests, looking at me so pleadingly that I can't refuse.
He turns on the computer, puts the CD in the drive, and a blank disc in the burner.
"It'll just take a few minutes," he says. "Have a seat."
I sit on his bed and look around. A completely normal room. A desk in the corner, a chair in front of it. A wardrobe, a few shelves, a stereo, a TV, a CD rack, and the bed I'm sitting on. No posters on the walls, hardly any decorative stuff. It looks like a room only used for sleeping, I think. Mine is cozier. I think you can tell from my room that I like being in it. This one seems—I don't know how to express it—somehow "unloved."
He turns to me and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "I'm not very tidy," he says, looking around.
"Doesn't matter," I reply. "I'm not really either."
"Do you want something to drink?" he asks. "Cola?"
I nod, and he disappears. I lean back against the wall and take a closer look around. Then I notice little things that make me smile. A photo tucked into the wardrobe and a teddy bear half-hidden in the corner next to his pillow. I lean over a bit. Yes, THAT one definitely looks loved. Comforting to know that he seems to have a romantic side too.
Jan reappears, a cola bottle under his arm and two glasses in hand. He fills the glasses and hands me one. He waits until I've put it down before sitting next to me on the bed and carefully leaning against the wall. I don't know what to say; his immediate proximity takes my breath away. My heart is pounding as if it wants to pump all my blood through my veins within minutes, and I desperately rummage through my mind for words to fill the silence, but they seem to have retreated to dark corners of my brain—like cockroaches when the light comes on.
"Do you also sometimes have fights with your parents?" he asks quietly, looking at his fingertips.
"Luckily, rather rarely," I say, although "never" would have been closer to the truth, and because I know what he's getting at, I ask: "You?"
He nods.
"I don't know... We argue about every little thing lately. How my room looks, that I should get a job for the holidays, you name it."
I'm still thinking of a suitable answer when he suddenly changes the subject.
"By the way, your new haircut is really cool," he says and looks at me again.
A small smile sneaks onto his sad face.
"Now I at least know what you were doing yesterday. I was already wondering why you didn't come to the lake."
Silence descends over us again, but this time it isn't unpleasant. Suddenly, I feel his fingertips brushing over my arm. My skin seems to burn under them, and I turn my head to the side to ask him what he's doing. It hits me like a blow, because I look straight into his dark eyes and suddenly can't breathe. His face approaches mine in slow motion, I feel his fingertips tugging at a strand of hair and then touching my cheek, and everything blurs as his lips softly touch mine. I slowly raise my hand...
... and push him away from me.
With a jump, I leap off the bed and scream, "Are you crazy? What the hell is this?"
I sound hysterical like a girl. I'm in total panic, completely flustered. He's messing with me completely! Not for a fraction of a second do I consider that he might be serious—why would I? He makes out with every girl that comes by.
"Do you think I'm gay or what?"
His face is chalk white, and he stammers, "No, of course not. I just... I didn't mean to... I'm sorry. Please. I'm sorry. I don't know what..."
I've put at least two meters between us with my jump. He's still sitting on the bed, I'm pressed against his desk with my butt, there's no further backward.
"I'm leaving," I say and am about to go, but he has also jumped up and holds me back. "Dennis, please wait."
He stands in front of me and looks at his hands.
"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to... This stays between us, right?" he asks quietly, and I could hug him again. But at the same time, I could hit him. I feel like I'm about to explode.
"I hope so," I say coolly and try to push past him.
Now, don't show any feelings.
"Don't you want to wait for your CD?" he asks.
He can't seriously think that I'll stay here a minute longer? How much did he bet that he could get me? And with whom? I'm so angry I could beat him up on the spot.
"You can bring it to the lake tomorrow," I say, hoping it's also clear to him that he should figure out how to get there himself because I certainly won't be picking him up.
I rush out of the house and race home like a madman. There, I grab a bottle of wine from the cellar and lock myself in my room for the rest of the day. It's good that my parents have gone bowling tonight, so I don't have to explain my state of mind to anyone.
I down the wine until I can't see straight anymore, and then I cry like a baby because the whole mess is overwhelming me, and I have no idea how to get out of it. I cry until I fall asleep drunk, lying on top of my bed in my clothe