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“Knut... schen, knut... schen, knut... schen...”, the girls shouted in chorus.
The boys sitting around, who were something like my friends, whistled and howled.
Okay, now I had to pass or die!
My kissing partner was Leslie, who was not really called that, because no one would voluntarily call their child that. Unless that someone assumes that the child will definitely be gay when they grow up.
So... Leslie crawled a little closer to me and brushed a few long, black strands of bangs out of his face. I put my long, black bangs behind my ear. Why I had gotten myself into this shit... who knows?! Real emo boys kissing each other... Nora knew and as soon as she blurted it out, suddenly everyone knew. Why Leslie and I were chosen to demonstrate this will probably remain a secret forever.
Well, I took another deep breath in and out, moistened my lips a little and finally pressed them to Leslie's pout.
“Oh, how sweet,” squeaked Nora excitedly, while Leslie pushed his tongue into my mouth.
Cool, now I'm a real emo boy, damn it... shot through my mind. At least Leslie didn't drool when he kissed me. That would have been the last straw! However, I could feel him giggling into my mouth. Was my kissing ability a joke to him? I thought I was an excellent kisser, even though I had little experience in this area. Angrily, I pushed him away.
“Very funny, asshole,“ I hissed.
Leslie wrinkled her nose. ‘Sorry, your hair tickled me.’
”I don't care,” I grumbled, reached for the bottle of vodka and orange juice mix, and took a big gulp.
“So?“ Kai asked, giggling. ‘Was it exciting?’
”I've had more fun.“
Leslie's striped socked foot rubbed against my leg.
”Do you want to die young?"
The foot quickly retreated.
“Lighten up, Jo-Jo,” advised Nora, who I hated instantly. Firstly, because it was she who had dragged Leslie along, and secondly, because it was she who had gotten me into this mess. Fritte wanted to know from me if I had gotten a hard-on.
I don't need to mention that the whole table laughed at me, do I? Especially because I, idiot, also looked stupidly down at myself, which of course looked like I had to make sure.
By the way, why is it that you never come up with something super cool and quick-witted when it counts?
Never mind.
I just drank some more vodka and hoped that I would pass out drunk as soon as possible.
“Okay, let's continue,” Nora grinned eerily and let her black fingernails glide over the empty bottle. “Who hasn't had a turn yet?”
The boys were suddenly silent and probably shaking with fear.
“Kai,“ she announced, ‘and... Fritte.’
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The two didn't even try to avoid it. Nora was something like the boss and what she said was done.
”We looked better,“ Leslie claimed.
”Of course,” I nodded.
Kai and Fritte kissed each other in a very amateurish way. Way too fast and... it looked pretty gross.
What happened during the rest of the evening is a bit beyond my knowledge, because the orange juice-vodka mix pretty much knocked me out.
I only came to when someone tried to get into my sleeping bag. How I got into the sleeping bag... no idea.
“Why don't you make some space,” someone mumbled at my ear.
Before I made space for anyone, I rubbed my eyes and looked around. We were in Nora's attic, where people liked to spend the night after parties. Kai and Fritte were lying together on the tasteless mattress, slumbering peacefully. Nora, of course, slept alone in her room one ladder and one staircase lower. The other people had apparently gone home... or been abducted by aliens, or had spontaneously vanished into thin air.
Leslie was still waiting for me to let him into my sleeping bag, which I didn't even dream of doing. He pushed me together a bit and squeezed himself behind me with his blanket.
“Are you crazy?” I hissed.
“Shhhht... not so loud, or do you want Kai and Fritte to watch us?”
Uh??
“Doing what?“
His hand fumbled with my shirt, obviously looking for the button and zipper of my jeans.
”Stop it right now,“ I snapped, muffled, and turned around.
”Ow... why don't you just ram your knee into my balls, stupid. You'll make me unable to father children because of you.”
I decided that I was way too drunk for this conversation... and for whatever might come after it, so I pretended to be asleep.
“Nice try,” Leslie giggled.
“What the hell do you want?”
“A little make out session,” he explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“First of all, I'm not gay. Secondly, I'm not hot for you. And thirdly, I don't do that when people are sleeping off their drunkenness twenty feet away.“
”First and second are lies. Thirdly, unfortunately I can't change that right now. We just have to be quiet.”
“You're an escapee, aren't you? I mean, you…“ I didn't get to finish what I wanted to say because he just kissed me. His hand slid between my legs.
”Second is a total lie,” he murmured and continued kissing me.
I just realized that too. Oh dear!
I have no idea how we managed to take off some clothes in such a small space.
Well, if you want something bad enough, nothing is impossible.
Leslie's hand was extremely skilled, mine was a bit hesitant at first.
“More,” he gasped promptly.
“Waaaahhhh... what are you doing? Fucking?“ A drunken voice sounded from the corner.
Not that too!
My hand slowed down.
”Hey, Jo-Jo... please concentrate on me, okay?“ Leslie demanded. ‘And you, shut your mouth back there,’ he shouted.
”I can't do it like this,” I replied annoyed.
“I'll prove you wrong,” whispered Leslie.
So that's how it was three years ago, and Leslie and I have been a couple ever since. Nah, just kidding. We're best friends. What happened with Leslie was my first and only foray into homosexuality. Fortunately, I can only say that, because my parents expect me to get married someday, have a well-paid job, and start a family. And my parents are very strict about this. My father especially. For example, if I bring home a bad grade (like a C), he'll tell me for hours what a disappointment I am. Then I get grounded and have to study until I'm completely exhausted. After all, I'm supposed to amount to something. I'm supposed to graduate from high school and go to college.
Business or something. Just something I'm not interested in at all. But what mom and dad say, is done. No back talk. You have to be the best always and everywhere, your personal desires, dreams, sensitivities don't interest us at all... these are my parents!
There is no such thing as gay in their performance-oriented world. Gay is ugh. Homos don't make it because they're too soft. Homos become hairdressers, artists or hustlers.
When I showed my dad my last report card with an A in art, he didn't congratulate me, but slapped me in the face because I only got a C in math. That canceled all vacation plans. While Leslie visited all the capital cities in Europe, I got six weeks of tutoring.
Incidentally, it was Leslie who got me to address the topic of homosexuality. He has a penchant for guys sometimes and constantly insinuates the same to me. Just because we made out a bit once. I think that's nonsense, because after all, I've had a girlfriend for five months. Merle is seventeen and looks incredibly good. Like her dad, she loves exotic animals. The basement of the house is full of snakes and some kind of lizards. Probably also because the dad is well known in the area and people often drop off animals at his house when the owners are overwhelmed or the critters have not been kept properly.
In principle, I like snakes, as long as they are not poisonous and do not strangle me. Phew, but their eating habits... I feel sorry for the poor mice and rats. When they are being fed, I am never down there in the basement.
“Hey, sweetie,” I call down the basement stairs.
“Come on over... everyone here is full,“ Merle answers me with a laugh in her voice.
By the way, she's currently messing with a box on the table.
”What?” I ask. ”New animal?”
Merle opens the lid. “It was just dropped off. The owner didn't seem to like the animal very much. Poor baby,” she coos, lifting a small royal python out of the box.
“Shouldn't you wait until your father is back?“
”Nah, the little guy needs to be warm now, and besides...“ She eyes him critically and sets him on the floor, ‘Help me, he's shedding.’
”But he doesn't need to eat now,“ I hope.
”You're a wimp, Jo-Jo,” she laughs.
I squat down next to her and carefully start to remove the scraps of skin from the snake's body. Snakes usually do this on their own, but if they're stressed or something, you have to help a little. I've already learned that. The python doesn't seem to be uncomfortable either; he flickers his tongue around with relish.
After the skin is off, Merle's dad comes.
“Well, he looks quite lively,” he remarks and puts the animal in a terrarium. ”I was afraid it would be worse.”
“The last snake we got was in a miserable state. It didn't want to eat for ages and all that,“ Merle babbles.
”Well, it took some time to adjust, but eventually it started eating frozen food without complaining,” Dad explains proudly. ”And with the little one here, we're trying it from the start.”
Fortunately, it is not tried immediately. Merle and I go to her room first.
As soon as the door is closed, she pounces on me. That is, she gives me a welcome French kiss. However, after that she only talks about her favorite subject again. Snakes, lizards, spiders. She would like to have tarantulas, but her mother is completely against it. I think Merle's mom is right. Spiders are gross! And then tarantulas too... they get as big as freaking UFOs!
“The Avicularia versicolor only gets four to six centimeters big,” Merle claims, showing me some website or other, “and the adults then get this beautiful, reddish leg and chest hair, which actually looks more pink. So it's the total spider for girls,” she grins.
Nice hair?! She's crazy! I stare at the monitor in disgust and suddenly feel like something is crawling on me.
“Oh my God... it says that these things jump and shoot their excrement at enemies. That's really unappealing.”
“If someone gets on your nerves, you just smack them too,” she shrugs.
You just can't talk to Merle sensibly.
“Get rid of that, I'm itching all over.”
Smiling, she ruffles my hair and turns off the computer.
“By the way, are we going to Subway this weekend?”
Merle makes a grimace. “Is Leslie going to be there too?”
"Probably.”
“I don't know. If he's drunk, he'll probably hit on you again. I don't need that.“
”Leslie's not hitting on me,“ I immediately get all worked up. ‘And even if she was... you should know that it doesn't bother me.’
”Three years ago, you were all over it.”
Logically, Leslie told her that. I would never go peddling such gaffes.
“I was fourteen then. Besides, I hardly remember it. So why are you getting worked up?”
“You'd be pissed off too if I was still friends with my former sex partner,” she replies.
"I wouldn't.”
She looks at me critically. “Maybe that's exactly the problem, Jo-Jo.”
“What problem?”
“Forget it,” she sighs. “We're going to Subway with Leslie this weekend. Everything's fine.”
“Tell me... do you think I should be more jealous?”
Leslie stares at me blankly.
“Merle hinted at something,“ I explain.
”I think,“ says Leslie, crossing her legs and biting into a chocolate bar, ‘that you should rethink your relationship as a whole.’
”Ah yes, and why?”
“Yo-yo,“ he groans, annoyed, ‘if you think about it and are really honest with yourself, you'll inevitably come to the conclusion...’
”Which one? Are you trying to convince me again that I'm gay? Just because we made out once? Can you please just forget about it?”
“I would, but you keep reminding me,“ he grins. ‘Must have been pretty great for you.’
”It wasn't,“ I hiss darkly.
”Besides, you're the one who keeps talking about being gay.”
“Because you're saying again...“
”Okay,” he interrupts me, ‘then explain to me what all those YouTube clips are that you have saved as favorites. Or rather, why you watch clips in which half-naked boys are involved.’
I feel instantly sick to my stomach. ”How did you know...”
“I discovered it by accident the other day when your computer was on and you were on the toilet.“
”You secretly snoop around in my affairs?“ I yell angrily.
”Is it my fault you stay out so late? Besides, I didn't know you had stored such secrets."
Shit, why didn't I pay more attention?
“And if I did... that doesn't mean anything.“
”Why don't you just admit it? I mean... sure, you don't want your parents to find out because they would probably kill you a few times... but I'm your best friend, Jo-Jo. And I already know.“
”You don't know shit. After all, I have a girlfriend.”
“Yeah? How often do you sleep with her?“
”As often as I can,“ I lie.
”And in reality?“
”Fuck you. I've only been with Merle for a few months. You don't just fuck like a fucking rabbit.“
”In the long run, your eternal denial won't make you happy,” he says seriously.
“And it's not fair to Merle either.“
”Listen,” I reply, trying to stay calm, ”it's perfectly fine that you're into guys every now and then... but it doesn't have to be that way for everyone, okay? And if you keep bugging me about it, I'll smack you in the face.”
“Yes, okay,” he finally concedes, ‘but you still haven't given me a reasonable explanation for the naked guy clips.’
Damn it!!
As soon as Leslie is gone, I delete my favorites list. Unfortunately, that doesn't really solve the problem. The truth is that sometimes I don't really know... well, what turns me on. That is, sometimes I pay more attention to boys than is normal. Until now, I didn't really mind because, of course, I would never actually do anything with a guy, and what goes on in my head is nobody's business. But Leslie is not wrong. The relationship with Merle is... problematic. We get along great, but when it comes to the physical stuff, it's not right anymore. I always try really hard. Holding hands, cuddling, whispering compliments in your ear, being attentive, little gifts... I've got it all down. However, it feels like a rehearsed role. It's about the same with sex. I do what is expected of me. At least that's how it was the first time. And to be honest, having sex once in five months is a pretty poor rate! Maybe Merle and I aren't right for each other. I often get the impression that she doesn't exactly bend over backwards to sleep with me either. If you're really head over heels in love, you're hot for each other, right? Not constantly. That's hardly the case with Merle and me. Well, and the fact that I'm actually not very jealous at all is certainly not a good sign either.
Going to Subway was a bad idea. Leslie wanted to make out with me in a drunken stupor, I secretly looked at strange guys while my girlfriend was standing next to me, and... oh, yeah... Merle cheated. Well, not in the Subway, she just told me there. Probably thought I wouldn't make a scene in public. I didn't. I went home and tried to make sense of it all somehow. The next day I called Merle and wanted to know who she was doing it with, but she said that I wouldn't know the guy anyway. Two days later Leslie came over and when I told him the Merle story, he came out after much hesitation as the guy I supposedly wouldn't know.
So, my best friend is screwing my girlfriend! It's obvious that I don't want anything to do with either of them anymore, right?!
Out of sheer frustration, I looked up all the half-naked guy clips on YouTube again, got a little drunk to give me courage, went to some weird gay site and stumbled across Flo. He's twenty-two and totally into Circus Contraption. Isn't that incredible? Actually, nobody really knows them, which is almost a scandal, because they're really great. On top of that, Flo is gay and has no problem with it. However, I'm not interested in the fact that he's gay at first, because otherwise he's super nice and funny. Of course, I didn't tell him that I'm theoretically interested in boys, and instead I said that I was looking for Circus Contraption and just found him. Anyway, we've been chatting from time to time since then... more or less regularly.
“Hello,“ it squeaks through the closed door. ‘Can I come in?’
”No.“
Merle trudges into my room anyway. I stare at her in disbelief.
”Let's talk about it, Jo-Jo.“
”There's nothing to talk about,“ I reply coldly.
”Yes, there is,” she claims, sitting down on my bed.
“Are you going to tell me who else you screwed around with while we were together?“
”It was just Leslie. Just once.“
”Okay, so now you're sorry, you promise me it will never happen again, and you want us to try again? You can forget it.”
Merle strokes a blonde strand behind her ear. “I'm sorry and it won't happen again because... Jo-Jo, it wasn't really working out between us anyway.”
“Leslie's always hitting on you,” I mock her. “That was the joke of the century.”
"That's why you're mad, right? Because he went to bed with me and not you.”
Man, did something heavy fall on his head on the way over or why is she talking such shit?
“Next you'll be telling me that it's all my fault.”
“That's nonsense,” she shakes her head. “But I just noticed that you were never really into it when we... you know... kissed and stuff.”
“I bet Leslie was totally with you when she... you know...“ I smile horribly.
”He wasn't thinking about any boys while he was sleeping with me.“
”Get out!“
”Yo-Yo...“
”Piss off!” I yell.
“What's all the noise about?“ my father suddenly shouts, tearing open the door. ‘Merle... what's going on here?’
That's all I need!
”I have to go home,“ she mutters, pushing past him.
”What's going on, Johannes?” he asks.
“She has to go home, as you heard,“ I explain, annoyed.
”Don't take that tone with me, okay? And stop rolling your eyes when I'm talking to you. Have you studied for the math test next week or are your girl stories more important to you?“
”No, I mean, yes, I have.”
“I'm warning you, buddy. If your grades don't improve soon, you're going to boarding school. They'll teach you some discipline there,” he yells and slams the door behind him.
Oh dear! My father has been threatening to send me to boarding school for quite some time. Because I'm a lazy piece of work, don't study enough... yadda yadda. Discipline. That word makes me want to throw up. He's sure picked a place that's comparable to a boot camp. Dad thinks that his upbringing has had no effect on me and that the boarding school has completely different means of making people toe the line, and I'll be in for a surprise. I don't think the means at the boarding school could be any worse than his. My father has always had a relatively light touch when I didn't suit him. He used to spank my bottom, but now he “only” slaps me. My mother seems to be fine with that. But she probably just doesn't dare to have a different opinion. I can even understand that. I don't dare to rebel against Dad either. Or to put it another way, I do what he says and I'm left in peace. That's why I bury my nose in books, even though I know full well that I'll never be a math genius. Nor will I become a footballer, handball player, volleyball player, swimmer or track and field athlete. I really had to try it all out, but I was always only mediocre to bad... so another disappointment for my father. After he realized that the boy was not cut out to be a sports ace, he now wants him to at least be the best at school. I suppose he would have liked to have seen me being smart enough to skip a grade. But I wasn't, because I'm just average at the important, scientific subjects.
He didn't mean what he said earlier about me and girls, because I think he thinks it's quite good that I'm not completely failing in that area.
Luckily he doesn't know that my super pretty girlfriend cheated on me with my best friend.
Sometime in the evening after a thousand hours of studying, my door opens.
“Are you going to avoid me forever?“ Leslie asks.
”I was planning to, but obviously I'm not even safe from you in my own room.“
”At least you're not kicking me out.“
”Did my ex-girlfriend come crying to you? Because I was so angry? Did you fuck her again as a consolation?”
“That's exactly what I did, asshole.“
”Shouldn't you be apologizing instead of swearing at me?“
”My only mistake is not waiting until Merle broke up with you,“ he claims.
”You're a pig,” I think.
“Because I slept with a girl you don't love? If your relationship had been super great, I would never have done that, you know that very well, Jo-Jo.“
”How nice that you know so much about who I love and who I don't.”
“Okay,“ he sighs, ‘let's be honest, I totally understand that you feel betrayed and all that... it was a crappy thing for Merle and me to do... but you don't necessarily look like it's breaking you. Maybe now is the time to finally admit to yourself...’
”Yeah, damn it,” I interrupt him, ”you don't need to say it.”
“You admit it?“ he asks, a bit dumbfounded.
”So what? You've known that for three years anyway. Why are you so surprised?”
“Whether I realize it or not doesn't matter, Jo-Jo. You have to accept it. And you have to dare to fall in love properly. Your internet clips may be great jerk-off material, but you can't hug them.“
”You and Merle... are you together?” I change the subject.
He shakes his head. “Nah. It was more of a classic situation. She was in a bad mood, I was in a bad mood... blablabla. You should make up with her. She really likes you, in a completely unsexual, unromantic way.”
“Sounds familiar,” I admit.
“Exactly. And you should make up with me,” he grins, ‘because I love you in a completely unromantic and... er... at least mostly asexual way.’
To avoid further stress, I tell Leslie that everything is fine again.
Today is Nora's birthday party, which traditionally takes place in her parents' allotment house. Since I'm not as emo-ish anymore, we don't meet very often, but I'd say we're still friends. That means we can go weeks without talking, but when we see each other, we're immediately back on the same wavelength.
“Yo-yo,“ Nora greets me, blowing a kiss on my cheek and looking darkly when she sees Leslie.
”Did you bring the plague with you?"
I shrug my shoulders uncomfortably. ”Happy birthday... I put the present on the table with the others.”
“Happy Birthday,“ Leslie coos happily and wants to hug her, but Nora pushes him away.
”What's up?“ he asks.
”Nothing,“ she snorts, shaking her head.
”Could it be that you're still mad?“
”You sat on my ass and made sure that my boyfriend broke up with me,” she starts.
“I gave you a harmless massage. Is it my fault that your boyfriend reacted so jealously?“
”And you rode on the roof of my parents' car, wanted to pee out the window and would have stuck chewing gum in the ignition if I hadn't slapped you first.“
”Nora, that was so long ago,” he groans.
“It's only been a few months. And you are an irresponsible piece of garbage. The total antichrist. You're the kind of person I would warn my daughter... or my son about."
Oh dear, I'll piss off quickly. Grab a bottle of Desperados, sit on the couch and stare at the people. Kai and Fritte are there, but otherwise I don't know anyone. As already mentioned, I no longer move in emo circles. So while I'm drinking and staring, my gaze lingers on a guy standing in the corner with his beer, somehow out of place because he's not wearing emo clothes, but black and green plaid bondage pants and a tight black wool sweater that mostly consists of honeycomb-like holes. His hair is brown or black... I can't see it clearly in the dim lighting... short and frayed with long strands of bangs. Strangely, my heart suddenly starts beating a bit faster. Probably also because the guy is looking in my direction and probably notices that I'm staring at him. Or have stared at him, because of course I quickly look away.
“Hey, who are you looking at?“ Leslie asks and throws herself down on the sofa next to me.
”Why... uh... no one,“ I reply hastily.
Leslie grins stupidly. ‘Cute, eh?’
”What the hell are you talking about?” I mutter weakly.
“Green and black plaid trousers and lots and lots of naked skin, Jo-Jo,“ he explains in this stupid, compassionate tone of voice that makes me want to kick his ass immediately.
”Have you made up with Nora?” I change the subject so Leslie doesn't get any stupid ideas.
“Nora loves me. She's just really pissed off because she can't have me.“
”She thinks you're garbage.“
”I can live with that, after all I know the truth. What? Should I talk to the guy or something?“
”If you're keen on him,” I act uninvolved.
“I actually meant, should I talk to him for you?“
”Are you drunk?“
”Not yet, but I'm on my way.“ Jo-Jo, what the fuck? You're obviously interested in this guy. So...”
“Shut the fuck up, Leslie,” I hiss, “seriously.”
“I'm going to go over to him. He might have noticed you already."
And with that, he got up and sauntered over to the guy. I felt sick with horror. If Leslie said something stupid... I'd blow up instantly. But before he reaches the guy, he fortunately changes his mind and joins Kai and Fritte, who are standing nearby. My heart is pounding in my throat. And Wollpulli is looking in my direction again, taking a sip from his bottle and licking his lips. I'm getting hot and... oh my God! Leslie stands next to him and says something in his ear, and the guy smiles. At me, in fact. I frantically dig for cigarettes and a lighter in my bag as a cover, taking my time with it, and when I cautiously look up again, they've both disappeared. I can guess what they're doing now. Leslie is an old flirt! So what? I don't care. I only like boys in theory. Unfortunately, I'm no longer sure about that, because my stomach still tingles. Alcohol. I desperately need alcohol!
I usually know how much I can handle and know when to stop before it gets unpleasant. Today, I missed the point when it became uncomfortable. After so many beers, I feel incredibly nauseous and if I don't get to the bathroom soon, I'll throw up in the bowl in front of me and become the laughing stock of the party.
I stagger to the toilet and have the misfortune to have eaten with spoons. The outside toilet is occupied. So around the corner, a few steps further and it comes up to me. Everything. Even what I ate a week ago... at least it feels like that.
“Bah... that's disgusting,” I hear an angry voice close to me.
I continue to puke.
“Man, are you drunk or what?“
I don't have much time for stupid questions like that right now, but I notice that someone is pushing me roughly.
”You almost threw up on my shoes.”
“Sorry,” I mumble. When the retching is over and I raise my head, I almost want to throw up again. Smite me. Hang me. Dissolve into thin air. Next to me stands the guy in the green and black plaid bondage pants and the holey sweater.
“I'm really sorry. I just... I wasn't feeling well.“
”You've got vomit on your chin,” he says, disgusted, and leaves.
Great, Jo-Jo. You've really made a splendid impression! There's no way I'm going to stay here any longer. Not after that stunt. Without saying goodbye, I sneak home.
Why do such unbelievably stupid things keep happening to me? I'm naturally very careful, I think carefully about what I say and do and how I might come across to others. One damn careless second and disaster strikes. I embarrass myself to the bone. It's been that way since elementary school. There was a child sitting next to me who used to keep his sandwiches under the table. On the bread was nasty deviant sausage. One time the smell was particularly dangerous that I felt sick and couldn't get out of the classroom fast enough. I threw up all over the damn table and my classmates were totally disgusted for the rest of the year. Actually, it wasn't entirely my fault. After all, I still can't help it if I gag on repulsive food. And the holey sweater guy standing in the way when I was throwing up... well, okay, I should have stayed away from alcohol.
Hey, that's not funny, okay? , I type, feeling a little offended. The guy was... well, and now I'll be the one with the puke on his chin forever.
What happened? , Flo writes back.
Huh?
The guy was what?
Nothing. I was just embarrassed.
I see. Still, something like that can happen to anyone, and the guy could have at least handed you a handkerchief. He probably has no manners, huh?
Manners stop at puke.
But you felt bad. If I had been there, I would have held your forehead.
Really?
Of course. And I would have brushed the hair out of your face. There's nothing more disgusting than hair that smells of vomit.
You're making fun of me *pout*
Yeah... but just a little null I have to go, I have a date. We'll talk, okay?
Okay, see you, I'm signing off.
Flo has it good. He meets up with handsome guys all the time, who all fall in love with him immediately and want to go to bed with him, and he doesn't have to worry about what his father would say about all this. Flo came out to his family a long time ago and no longer lives with his parents anyway. I should actually break off contact with him immediately because I stupidly realized that I think he's more awesome than I allow myself to. But why did he have to send me a photo of himself? And why does he have to be so fantastically good-looking? So good that my imagination sometimes gets completely out of hand and I imagine him... with me...
“Just send him your phone number and tell him you want to meet him.“
”Argh,“ I squeal and reflexively click Flos photo away. I really have to be more careful. If it wasn't Leslie but my father who had crept up like that... oh my god!
”I don't want to meet him,” I explain after my heartbeat has normalized a bit.
“Does he know that you only think about him when you jerk off?“
”Of course. I always write that to strangers at the beginning. It makes a good impression. Moron.“
”In any case, you should be more careful. Imagine if your father had snuck up on you like that.“
”Is he there?”
“Yes,“ he answers and plops down on my bed, ‘I told him that we were studying together... as always.’
”That's good, because I have to have my damn paper finished by Monday.“
Leslie grins maniacally. ‘Paper, huh? About pretty blonde gayboys?’
”Very funny. About the German Autumn.”
“Aha. Why about that in particular? And why not summer... or winter?"
I'm kind of stunned. Leslie, on the other hand, is laughing her head off.
“RAF, Schleyer kidnapping, plane hijacking, the night of the death of Stammheim and in the end Schleyer had to believe it... do you think I'm totally uneducated, or what?“
”Excuse me, but most of the time you talk about sex, music, clothes, movies, books.”
“Exactly. You should have watched the Baader-Meinhof complex with me. Although... the movie is kind of pretty stupid. It doesn't give any answers, it just rattles off the actions. But especially with such a difficult topic to understand, it makes no sense at all. Unless the goal is to make a cool action flick, which I'm just going to assume is what the makers were going for.”
“Yeah, probably,“ I sigh.
”So, if I help you now, can you go out with me this weekend?“
”That depends on whether my dad's in a good mood.“
”Your dad's an asshole,“ he remarks.
”I hadn't noticed that yet.“
”That's why I'm telling you. Now let's write your stupid paper.”
Man, Leslie really knows a lot about terrorists. He always acts like he's only interested in fun and games, but in reality he's pretty smart. And I feel pretty stupid next to him right now. Maybe you should spend more time studying politics and history. Isn't that kind of important? The events of 1977 are probably even part of general education... I obviously don't have much of that. On the other hand, I know the rules of various ball sports through my stays in different clubs. Unfortunately, this is not particularly useful knowledge. Unless you happen to be sitting at “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” and get a question about it. But how realistic is that?!
“You should get at least a B+,” Leslie explains. “Your father will be satisfied with that.”
“Do you think that's enough? Shouldn't it have gone into more detail about, um, the ideology of the RAF and how they came up with all that sick shit? After all, I don't just want to rattle off the actions.“
”This is a presentation for a lousy history class, not a doctoral thesis. If your teacher wants more detail, he should get Aust to take a look at it.”
“I'll tell him.“
”So, we're going to Subway on Saturday.“
”Whatever,“ I nod.
”Great, because I want to introduce you to my new boyfriend.“
Oh dear, I almost fall off my chair. ‘You have... a...’
”Boyfriend, Jo-Jo. Why not? After all, I'm a nice, sociable person.”
“If you officially introduce him to me, it must be something really serious,“ I consider.
”We'll see how it develops, but... I'm convinced that he's the one,“ he smiles.
This is really strange, because Leslie doesn't usually fall in love with boys.
”Does Mr. Right also have a name?“
”He does. Kim.”
“And... what's he like?“
”Stunning.“
”Cool, now I know everything about him.“
”You'll meet him on Saturday,” he shrugs.
Yeah, I'm looking forward to a couples evening that I'm being dragged along to! Hey, if they're constantly kissing, I won't be able to stand it.
Subway is way too crowded, loud, hot, stuffy and I feel kind of queasy. Flo told me today via email what he did yesterday. Did! He did it with a guy he barely knows. It's logical that I'm in a bad mood, right?!
“I told you to meet up with him,“ Leslie yells. ‘That's what you get for never listening to me. Your sweetheart is fucking someone else.’
”Flo is not my sweetheart,“ I reply aggressively.
”The guy's not for you anyway. He's been around too much.”
“Oh yeah? How would you know? And what does that even mean?“
”Well, that he's mainly interested in sex. Do you want someone like that to be your first boyfriend?“
”Where is your boyfriend?“
”Don't worry, he'll be here.“
”Fine, I'll get a coke first.”
At the bar, I once again made a fool of myself. As I was about to go back to Leslie with my coke, I tripped and accidentally poured my drink over a guy.
“Fuck! Sorry,” I yell and quickly make a run for it. I don't want him to kick the shit out of me. His black and red striped shirt has gotten a whole lot of coke on it. Great... Leslie is nowhere to be found. I search the dance floor for him, but in vain. Okay, so he must have gone to the bathroom. I'll just wait.
At some point, someone taps me on the shoulder. Leslie. Next to him is a black and red striped shirt with various zippers, a dark spot on his chest, and I have the unpleasant feeling that I am far from reaching the peak of embarrassment.
“Yo-Yo, this is Kim. Kim, this is Jo-Jo,” Leslie introduces us politely.
I feel sick. Kim is the boy I almost threw up on at the garden party. Man, maybe he doesn't remember.
“First puke, then coke... I'm really curious to see what you'll come up with for the next mouth when we meet,” he grins.
Too bad.
“I'm sorry,” I mumble.
“What?“ he yells, coming a little closer with his head.
”I'm sorry,“ I repeat louder. A big mistake, because my voice sounds totally squeaky. Hey, why doesn't anyone shoot me?
”It's not that bad,” he claims. ”As long as you don't throw up on my shirt right away...”
It could happen. My stomach is rumbling wildly and my body is starting to tingle because Kim looks about a thousand times more beautiful up close, smells faintly of jasmine and... because he's Leslie's boyfriend. He's dating Leslie and I'm swooning here. That's just not on! Anyway, now I know for sure what they were doing at the party and why the outhouse was occupied when I had to throw up. It reminds me instantly of Larry Flynt... having sex with his mother in an outhouse... Leslie and I laughed our heads off about that. I wonder if all the zippers are real, as if you could see Kim's naked skin if you unzipped them... okay, Jo-Jo, calm down!
“Awesome, huh?” Leslie whispers in my ear.
It pisses me off a little that he hooked up with Kim, of all people. I mean... he sleeps with my girlfriend, grabs the guy I secretly adored in the garden house, the only thing missing is that he does it with Flo next week. An old Bates classic is playing, which is very fitting.
...she's the girl that I'm dreaming of
but I know I'll never get her
never
she's my best friend's girl...*
Unfortunately, Kim is not a girl, but a boy. So what? I don't care. And I don't want him either. Never! After all, I still only like boys in theory, and that's not going to change. Even if my body tingles from the scalp to the tips of my toes because Kim is standing close to me and obviously likes Bates, because he is softly singing the lyrics along.
"The Bates are hot, aren't they?”
I nod weakly. Kim's lips have just touched my ear very gently as he speaks.
“After Zimbl died, I couldn't hear it for a long time, but now I can again.”
I nod again because I remember that three years ago, shortly after we met, Leslie wore black for quite a while... because Zimbl died. Logically, this didn't attract much attention because Leslie usually wore black clothes anyway. He still does today. Huh? Where is he anyway? Lost again. Does he have a screw loose to just leave me standing here with his handsome friend?
“I'll go find Leslie,” I explain.
It doesn't take long. He's hanging out with some girl I don't know. Relatively close.
“Yeah?” He asks when I nudge him.
"Uh... so your friend is standing back there and... are you picking up a girl here?”
“Oh my God,“ he groans. ‘Just a minute,’ he calls to the girl and drags me outside into a quiet corner. ‘Haven't you got it yet, Jo-Jo?’
”No. What?“ I reply, confused.
”I'm not with Kim."
My brain is overwhelmed.
“But... you said he was your boyfriend.“
”You're my friend, too. Does that mean we're together? No. I thought if you got to know him, you'd fall in love and...“
”Is this some kind of set-up? Like a blind date? Are you out of your mind?“
”Why? You like him, don't you?”
“You really are an ass,” I hiss. ‘Oh, shit... what did you tell Kim to lure him here?’
Leslie looks a little contrite. ‘Ahem... about what I told you?’ he suggests. ”Maybe with the little addition that you don't have any experience with guys and he would be your first boyfriend.”
“You're kidding,“ I hope.
”What's so bad about it? Kim thought you were cute at Nora's party, too.“
”Probably before I had vomit dripping off my chin.“
”Why don't you stop with your stupid vomit and go back in to see him?“
”Now you're kidding,” I'm sure.
“What's your problem, Johannes? I practically present you with the guy on a silver platter and you're annoying around here.“
”You're my problem. In the future, please just stay out of my life, okay? Have a nice evening,” I wish and get away from the madman.
At home in my room, I'm way too angry and upset to sleep, so I sit down in front of the computer and see that Flo is online. Fine.
I had a weird evening, I tell him without beating around the bush.
A friendly 'hello' would have been nice too null
I'm not in the mood for niceness!
Wow... even with an exclamation mark. What happened?
Leslie tried to foist a guy on me today. Guess what kind of guy.
Tell me, I don't want to guess.
Vomit in the allotment garden... ring a bell?
I'm a bit confused. You like boys?
Great, Jo-Jo! Well, what can you do?!
Seems that way.
Cool. Then I want a photo of you too, right away null
What for?
Yeah... what do you think?
No idea?!
So I know what you look like and can dream a little about you...
My head is spinning. Is he flirting with me? Oh dear!
I don't look like someone you could dream about.
Please let me decide that for myself!
Nope. You'll just break off contact in disgust afterwards.
Are you such an ugly goblin?
Yep! I've got a little, red, spotty face... and if you're not careful, I'll pinch you in the ear null
Ahhhh... carrier pigeons, mh? I used to find them pretty cool. Okay, pinch me... but not in the ear.
But where?
*rrrrr* I could think of a few places...
Meanwhile, my stomach is all over the place. And Flo is impatient.
Hey... I'm still unpinched...
Nah, it's getting too tricky for me now.
I'll go to sleep, that's how I'll get out of this.
Spoilsport! OK, sleep well and... send me a photo!
Well, I've got myself into a mess.