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Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.
John Lennon, Beautiful Boy
Peter Conrad
The
New beginning
Youth novel
"Danny, will you help us at the flea market again on Saturday?"
The person who wanted to know was Thomas, my best friend, who, along with his older brother, regularly sold all sorts of knick-knacks at the aforementioned flea market. And I was regularly roped in to help set up the stall and sell them. Not a particularly pleasant task in subzero temperatures. I still shivered thinking about last weekend. This time, however, I had a good reason to politely decline.
"I'm sorry, I really can't. My mom and her boyfriend are dragging me to a swimming meet."
"And who's competing? Surely not a water-shy specimen of the human species like you?"
Thank you very much. What could I do about the fact that I was in the hospital with leukemia back then, when everyone else was having swimming lessons? When I wanted to learn to swim later, I almost drowned the first time I went in the water, and ever since then, I've had a somewhat strained relationship with the subject. Although I've learned to stay afloat fairly safely, I still preferred to stay in areas where, while standing, my head could at least stick out above the water's edge.
"Nope, it's not coming to that. Tim, that guy's son, is the great swimmer. My mom thinks spending a day together like this would be the ideal way for us to get to know each other."
"Oh, oh, that sounds like they're actually serious."
"It certainly looks like it. The two spend almost every free minute together. I wouldn't be surprised if wedding bells ring in the near future."
"And what do you think about it?"
"Tough question. Well, my mother is happier than she's been in years, and Reinhardt seems to be doing okay, too."
"And your future stepbrother?"
"Ha, caught you, you weren't listening to me properly."
"How come?"
"I told you we were supposed to meet on Saturday. So far, I've only seen a picture of him and spoken a few words to him on the phone when I called about an emergency and was looking for my mother."
I have no idea why, but in all the time my mother and her Reinhardt had known each other, the opportunity to meet Tim had never arisen.
"Well, then you should at least know how old he is."
"Sixteen."
»So they're still really young.«
We both burst out laughing, having been just a year older. To be precise, I had celebrated my 17th birthday eleven weeks and three days earlier. And on that very day, my mother had met her Reinhardt, fittingly, just when she had invited me to the movies to celebrate. I had just bought a maxi-load of popcorn when some bearded giant in his forties spilled a half-liter cup of Coke down my pants. White jeans and black Coke – that really didn't go together. The giant baby was obviously even more shocked than I was; in any case, he had only just stammered the beginnings of an apology when my mother came running up and started giving him a piece of her mind.
Now, you have to understand that my mother isn't particularly tall, and the sight of a 5'5" woman making a 5'5" man look like a snail was not without a certain amount of comedy. This scene quickly captured the undivided attention of everyone around, and before long, I was about the last one to burst out laughing—but certainly a few decibels louder than the rest of the crowd. This, in turn, silenced my mother, and the two main actors stared at each other for a moment without saying a word. A small, energetic, and angry woman, and a devastated Rambo look-alike. A picture fit for the gods. My mother obviously realized this too, because the angry expression on her face gave way to a broad grin. This, in turn, confused the poor guy in front of her even more, who now had no idea what was happening to him.
Long story short: The gentle giant introduced himself as Reinhardt, drove the three of us to our house (going to the movies was out of the question in our soggy clothes), and then invited us to dinner and to the evening screening. And while I was rinsing the sticky cola residue off my body in the shower, my mother and the culprit apparently became quite close. When I reappeared in the living room in fresh clothes, they were laughing and joking as if they'd known each other forever. Which was true! The two had gone to school together many years ago and then lost touch. And now this surprising reunion, under these circumstances, no less. In the weeks that followed, their rekindled friendship developed into obvious love, with the result that two families would soon become one. Ha, Cupid himself must have smacked the cola out of Reinhardt's hand!
A little more background information on the topic of family. My father died in a plane crash a few years ago, and I still missed him every single day. My mother threw herself into work afterward—not that it was financially necessary, but it obviously helped her avoid thinking about her husband and my father all the time. It didn't help me much, either. At a time when I needed her most, she was hardly home before midnight. Fortunately, it only lasted a few weeks before we both realized things couldn't go on like this and somehow got our act together. We've had a good time together over the last two or three years, and we're looking toward the future with some optimism again. A few months before my last birthday, we've even discussed the topic of "mother plus new husband," and after a few long evenings and sleepless nights, I've come to terms with the fact that this situation would probably arise at some point. That Reinhardt was really lucky: If he had pulled that stunt on my sixteenth birthday, I would have definitely made his life hell trying to get hold of my mother.
Reinhardt himself was divorced; his wife had run off with a Latin lover without giving her or his son another thought. That had been quite some time ago, and ever since, Reinhardt had been playing the role of single father. As I said, we got along well, and if my mother was attracted to a new man, then someone like Reinhardt was certainly not a bad choice. He didn't force his way into my life, didn't try to ingratiate himself, but on the other hand, he was always willing to listen to me, without being condescending. But enough of that for now; I'd rather jump back to current events. Where was I again? Oh yes, Thomas wanted to recruit me and had apparently been rejected for the first time.
"I'm really sorry, Thomas, but you'll have to get by without me."
"The devil's doing you any harm. But hey, at least we don't have to give you any of the proceeds."
"I'll have to live with that, even if I don't yet know how I'm going to manage it."
"Rockefeller Jr. spoke. Well, whatever. Do you know how long the family reunion will last? Will you make it to Katja's party?"
"Shit, I completely forgot about that! Damn, I have no idea if I can manage that. Who knows, maybe my mom and Reinhardt have some joint activities planned for the evening."
"Come on, you just have to come. You're the only one who can get their music system working so that it's enough for the whole house."
"Oh, that's why you want me there?"
"Well, yeah. But just think about the great atmosphere at Katja's parties. Jürgen manages the grill, Lisa gets the drinks. There's guaranteed to be at least fifty people there. Oh, and there are bound to be some good-looking guys there, too."
I had to grin. Now he had me.
"Okay, okay, I'll try my best."
"I knew it. Oh, darn, it's already so late? Bye, I have to go pick up my little sister from kindergarten. See you tomorrow!"
And he was gone before I could even utter an answer. About the thing with the pretty boys: Well, I'm gay. And I'm pretty out. (Has anyone ever noticed how stupid it can sound to mix German and English words?) It wasn't like the whole school knew about me, but pretty much all of my friends knew. It hadn't been completely smooth sailing, but with the help of Thomas and three or four others, I'd gotten through it. A few former "friends" had distanced themselves from me a bit, but at least they'd been willing to keep their mouths shut. So, by now, I was at peace with myself and, on the whole, content with my life. Now all I needed was a suitable boyfriend. (Ha, I was just complaining about English language influences, and now I'm using one myself. But whatever, has anyone noticed that there's no truly appropriate German translation for this term? I mean, if someone says "That's my boyfriend" in English, everyone immediately knows what they mean, unlike "That's my friend." But in German? "Das ist mein Freund" says everything and nothing at the same time—I mean, Thomas is my boyfriend, but he's not my "friend." So which word should one use for the purpose of unambiguous identification? Beloved? Fiancé? Husband? Life partner? Nothing seems to fit. So if anyone has an idea, please let me know. Otherwise, I'll just leave the boyfriend as it is.)
Where was I? Ah yes, cute guys at parties. Well, I really did keep my eyes open, and at Katja's famous parties in particular, there was always a wide selection of guys I would definitely let into my life. However, up until now, it had only been a matter of looking, because usually every cute guy was soon followed by a female partner, and all my hopes went down the drain. I hadn't let it get me too depressed yet, but secretly I hoped that one day I wouldn't leave a party like that alone. I mean, it just couldn't be the case that all the cute guys were either straight or already taken, could it? In any case, on the way home, I resolved not to miss the upcoming celebration under any circumstances. I would somehow find a way to free myself from my family obligations.

---

Saturday morning. Or rather, Saturday night. So, Friday night into Saturday night. Whatever. In any case, at a most ungodly hour.
"Danny, get out of bed! Remember, we have plans today."
I love my mother, honestly, but there have been times when I wished she were far, far away. Like right now. It's not even 8:30 a.m., and my cozy slumber has been rudely interrupted. And on the weekend, no harm in turning over. Oh, that pillow was so soft...
"Daniel, get up already, or do I have to get a bucket of cold water first?"
Grumbling. Daniel, that said it all. If I didn't react now, she'd really nailed the cold water thing. It wouldn't be the first time. Oh, and by the way, in case anyone reads this aloud: Danny is pronounced the way it's spelled, not Dänny. And heaven forbid I hear someone call me that!
So I had no choice but to grumble my way out of the warm duvet. Brrr, what a cold night! It was just the beginning of December, and already the frost was on. I'd probably either have to close the window overnight or find some thick winter pajamas. With a few quick steps, I was at the window, and while I closed it with my right hand, I turned the heating up to full blast with my left. Then I escaped to my well-heated private bathroom, where I went about my usual morning routine.
Fifteen minutes later, I wandered back to my room, which had now reached a reasonably reasonable temperature. A glance at the outside thermometer: minus 8 degrees. Great. So, another day where all the warm clothes would make me look twice as bulky as in my normal outfit. That's what happens when you're a cold person.
"Danny, are you ready? Breakfast is on the table. And dress warmly, it's bitterly cold!"
Someone must have read my mind. That ability runs in the family, by the way; I'm pretty good at it myself. How? Evidence? Okay. I'll try to fathom the esteemed reader's current thoughts. Concentration. Just a little bit more. I'll get it in a minute. Exactly, there it is. Excuse me?!? That can't be true, the reader is thinking, "That guy still seems like quite a mama's boy at seventeen." Thank you very much, but I'm above that! If a mama's boy is defined by getting along well with your mama and respecting and listening to each other instead of constantly yelling and boring each other, well, then I guess I was a mama's boy. Perhaps this freshly tapped thought from the reader was just an expression of envy. Exactly, that's it.
Oh, by the way, I just realized that while I've already wasted a lot of words on my family, I haven't really talked about myself. At least, as far as appearances go. Well, my age is already known: I'm 1.81 m tall (or short, that's a matter of opinion), dark blonde with light highlights, brown eyes. Not fat, not thin, not a muscleman, but no wimp either. The word "average" probably best describes me. Which also applies to my performance at school. Although my teachers keep telling me I could achieve much more if I only wanted to. Ha, that's just what I needed, to be seen as a nerd! I'm also reasonably athletic; I'm learning karate and I'm apparently pretty good at it. In the summer, I cycle miserably long distances. Musical preferences: N'Sync, B3, Phil Collins, and Mike Oldfield—at least the first two bands are de rigueur for a gay teenager, right? Well, that's probably all you need to know about me.
Where was I before I got distracted again? Ah yes, the call to feed. First, I quickly changed out of my pajamas and put on my first day's clothes. "Dress warmly," my mother had said. In this house, that meant that under the fleece shirt and thermal jeans, I also had to wear a sweatshirt and—if you laugh now or dig out the "mama's boy" thing again, you'll feel my karate skills—knitted tights. My mother had always insisted on the latter, and all my attempts in earlier years to dissuade her had failed miserably. By now, I had come to terms with her stubbornness on the matter and with the teasing from my classmates and acquaintances, and for the sake of peace, I never brought the subject up again. Apart from the fact that these things are quite practical, and anything that kept me warm was, deep down, most welcome. So I grabbed a white sweatshirt and dark blue tights, put them both on, and walked in that outfit to the breakfast table in the kitchen. We've always had good heating, and adding the next bowl now would have been foolish.
"There you are at last."
"Why are you pushing so hard? There's still plenty of time, and it's only a ten-minute drive to the swimming pool."
"We don't drive, we walk. After the competition, Reinhardt will drive us home, or we'll do something together. The four of us still have to talk about it."
"Katja's throwing a party tonight, so I should be there by six at the latest." Actually, it's seven, but a little emergency cushion certainly couldn't hurt.
"Do you really have to go there today?"
"I promised her long before you told me about your plans for today." Okay, that wasn't the whole truth, but it has to be allowed.
"Does Katja still have a crush on you?"
The poor thing had actually been following me around practically nonstop since fourth grade.
"I don't think so. After I told her why she'd never have a chance with me, she started looking elsewhere. As far as I know, she's also had a boyfriend for a few weeks."
"Phew, thank goodness. I mean, she's a nice girl, but not exactly what I'd want for my son. So superficial and always following the latest fashion. Promise me you'll never fall for a male Katja."
My mother was the first person I told about my differences. The time after that was anything but easy; it took many weeks for her to accept it. But when it finally happened, she did a complete about-face and was now completely behind me. Which could be quite annoying at times, for example, when we were sitting in an ice cream parlor in the summer and she would point out boys to me every few spoonfuls. "Look, Danny, he's good-looking, isn't he?" Hmph, embarrassing. "Wouldn't that be exactly your type, Danny?" And you couldn't say that she whispered this or even made any effort to keep it somewhat private.
"Don't worry, even if I were into girls, Katja would definitely never have been on the shortlist."
"That's reassuring."
During this conversation, I gradually stuffed myself with three freshly baked rolls and drank two large cups of tea. Fortunately, I didn't have to worry about my figure; I could eat whatever I wanted, and I wasn't gaining weight. This may have been due to the fact that I was constantly making sure I got my daily exercise.
As I leaned back in my chair, my mother looked up from her crossword puzzle.
"Well, finally full? I'm afraid I couldn't afford another eater like you. Two of your kind would eat the hair off my head."
Pure envy was the reason she gained half a pound just by looking at a piece of cake.
"Hey, I'm a growing teenager, I need this!"
"All right, all right. I'll just put this away quickly, you finish getting dressed, and then we'll go. Let's go!"
I trudged to my room and completed my outfit with blue dungarees and a white fleece shirt. A quick glance in the mirror on the closet – yep, I looked good. With a bold flourish, my ID, keys, and wallet landed in their designated pockets, and I was ready to go. I went back downstairs, where my mother was already standing in the hallway, squeezing into her coat. Someone was really in a hurry. I slipped into my well-padded shoes and then pulled on my favorite winter jacket. I had found it in a military clothing catalog; it was supposedly the original US Navy polar jacket. It was wonderfully warm, and with the fur-trimmed hood, I didn't even need a hat. However, I almost needed a guide dog, as the hood rode pretty far over my eyes. Now I added some gloves, and I was more or less ready to face the elements.
"Can we?"
My mother was apparently ready, too. She opened the front door and pushed me through. The minus eight degrees was a flattering sign; there was an icy wind blowing, and the temperature felt like it was definitely well into the double-digit minus range. Plus, there was a light snowfall. I quickly pulled the hood over my head, insulating myself as best I could from the inhospitable outside world.
On the way to the swimming pool, my mother set a remarkable pace, which was particularly surprising because she usually had to slow me down when we walked together, as she couldn't keep up with her shorter legs. Given the weather, this was fine with me, of course. Almost twenty minutes later, we reached the competition venue, where Reinhardt was already waiting for us. After a brief greeting at the door, we went inside, where we first dropped off our warm jackets at the locker room. Reinhardt looked at me.
"So it's really you, Danny. I wasn't so sure about your disguise."
I gave him a pained smile. My mother hugged her future husband.
"Leave him alone, he's never been a fan of subzero temperatures. By the way, where's your son?"
"He's already in the locker room with his team. He has a semifinal race right at the beginning and will join us later. I've reserved a few good seats. Shall we go up to the stands?"
So we wandered to our seats in the pleasantly temperate pool, and gradually I began to feel at ease again. Perhaps that was partly due to the fact that all around the pool there were lots of boys in skimpy swimwear, including some who rightfully deserved to be called eye candy. Reinhardt's voice tore me from my pleasant contemplation.
"Danny, Tim's coach asked me to videotape his team's races. Unfortunately, that means I can't take photos with our own camera. Would you do that for me?"
Photography? Why not? It was one of my hobbies anyway. I had my own small darkroom at home, and I'd even won a few small prizes in photography competitions.
"Sure. You just have to explain the camera to me."
"No problem, I'm sure you can handle it. Look, the device is digital, so you don't need film."
Wow, I've been eyeing something like this for a long time! Reinhardt briefly explained what I should be looking for, and I really wouldn't have any problems with it.
"So, that's basically it. If you feel like it, you can walk around a bit and find some suitable motifs. Here, hang this card around your neck, so you can get into the area where only the staff and the press are allowed."
This was getting better and better! On many of my photo excursions, I'd been annoyed that I wasn't allowed to get close to the really interesting spots. The colorful piece of cardboard on a string around my neck would help me overcome that hurdle this time.
"Can I leave now?"
"Go ahead. Here are a few memory cards. Take as many pictures as you want. There's room for at least 150 pictures on these things, so you can really go wild. Oh, and here's a set of batteries, too."
“Thank you!” And I was gone.
First, I took a few shots of the arena—always keeping a safe distance from the edge of the pit, or rather, the pool's edge—then I focused on more and more individual details. The mother of a swimmer, who was apparently even more excited than her son. The gray-haired ice cream vendor, who wouldn't have another chance at my business until spring. The arena announcer, who was just calling the participants of the first race to line up at the start. Time to head there.
My wonderful ID card actually took me right to the edge of the pool, from where I filmed the gladiators' entrance. One of them had to be Tim, and I tried to recognize him from the small picture I knew. However, since it wasn't the most recent, and the swimmers, with their wet hair and workout clothes, looked a bit different, I didn't succeed right away. I had narrowed the circle of suspects down to three when the announcer began introducing the participants. A few names that meant nothing to me passed by, and then it was time.
"Tim Bergner, last year's champion and holder of the state record in his age group, will be competing on lane four."
I was right; it was one of my three candidates. I took a photo of him and then watched him take off his tracksuit. It would certainly be interesting to see what he looked like in a pair of skimpy swim trunks. But wait, apparently I wasn't granted that view. What was revealed?
Once the tracksuit was completely off, I could see everything Tim was wearing. It was one of those modern swimsuits that covers the body from the shoulders to just above the knees. It said Speedo Aquablade. I wasn't quite sure whether to regret or welcome this. The skin-tight piece of fabric really showed off my future stepbrother's muscular body. So I quickly took a few more photos, then tore myself away from him and turned my attention back to his competitors, another of whom was also wearing the same outfit. All the swimmers had now been introduced, and the starter called them to the blocks. I took a strategically advantageous position from which I intended to photograph the start as authentically as possible. The commands came, the starter raised his pistol, and with the sound of the pistol, I pressed the shutter button, concentrating on the middle lanes and thus also on Tim.
Shortly afterwards, I was rewarded with an obviously very good image on the control monitor. If it looked even half as good up close, I had managed to capture a great snapshot. I tore myself away from the monitor and turned my attention back to the race. Damn, what was that all about? I probably should have been listening more carefully. Ah yes, the 200-meter freestyle. I aimed the camera again, but decided not to press the shutter button, preferring to wait for the swimmers to come back to me after the first turn. Tim and his two lane neighbors were practically neck and neck, and I took the opportunity to zoom in close on the three and shoot a series of six images. While the camera saved them, I followed the race, in which Tim was now managing to pull away from his competitors a little. The camera was ready again just in time for the next turn, and I caught a close-up of my soon-to-be stepbrother.
Now I looked for a good place to get my sights set on the finish line. A man, who was recognizable as a press photographer thanks to his professional equipment, spotted my searching gaze and beckoned me over. He had chosen a really good, slightly elevated spot, and I was allowed to lie in wait right next to him. In the meantime, the race was going very well for Tim; by the last turn, he had already built up a lead of a whole body length. Now he was approaching the finish line with powerful arm thrusts, and I aimed at the spot of his impending triumph. Shortly before he touched the finish line, I pressed the shutter and was rewarded with the camera carrying out my command at exactly the right moment. I took a few more shots and, among other things, caught Tim climbing out of the pool dripping wet. When he was completely dry, he looked at me intently.
"Hey, isn't that our camera? You must be Danny, right?"
"Exactly. Good race, congratulations. I hope you didn't overexert yourself and saved some energy for the final."
He smiled at me, a little uncertainly. Oh, that smile, those green eyes! At that moment, I was damn glad I wasn't standing in front of him in such a skin-tight swimsuit. My God, that would have been embarrassing!
"Don't worry, I was holding back a little on purpose."
Held back? That wasn't what it looked like! Just as I was about to tell him that, a guy in a tracksuit showed up.
"Great, Tim, well done. The other finalists are already shaking in their knees. Go on, get in the shower, and get dressed. Your final isn't until 1:00, so you can go to your dad's then. But remember: don't eat or drink too much!"
So that must have been Tim's trainer. He sent his protégé to the locker room with a slap on the backside. I almost did the same, but I managed to pull myself together at the last moment. The man turned to me.
"And who are you, a friend of Tim's?"
"Not yet, but I hope to be. His father and my mother are probably getting married."
"Ah yes. Tim already told me about that. So that's your mother sitting up there next to Reinhardt?"
"Exactly. They both thought this would be a good opportunity for Tim and me to get to know each other."
"If that's the case, you're welcome to come into the cabin with us; you're practically part of the family."
Oh no, I'd rather not put myself through that ordeal. Being up close and personal with a bunch of more or less naked boys, no thanks. I mean, yes, please! But not necessarily right now.
"Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather move on and take some more pictures."
"As you wish. The offer stands. Will I get to see the pictures? You filmed Tim's finish, right?"
"I did. As for the pictures, you'll have to ask Reinhardt. It's his camera, and I'm working for him, so to speak."
"I'll do that. Right, I have to go, it was nice meeting you. Bye."
"Bye."
And I was alone again. Alone and quite confused. Wow. No boy had ever made such a huge impression on me at first, or even second, glance. Okay, I had already realized that Tim had a great body the moment I saw it on the starting block, but what threw me most were his eyes and his shy smile. I realized I was clearly in love.
But wait, help, this can't be true! For heaven's sake, not with this one boy! My future stepbrother, the thought of it was almost bordering on incest! Not to mention all the problems it would cause me. This simply couldn't happen. Lost in these terrifying thoughts, I made my way to our seats in the stands.
"So, Danny, did you get along with the camera?"
I was startled out of my thoughts.
"Uh, yeah, thanks. It was actually quite easy."
"Great. Did you take some good pictures?"
"I think so. Some from the hall, plus Tim's start and his finish."
"Very nice. Did Tim notice?"
"I think so. We even spoke briefly when he came out of the pool."
"Hmm, then you're hereby tasked with defending the camera against him. Tim doesn't particularly like being photographed, and if you're not careful, he'll delete the pictures of him immediately."
"Sorry, I didn't know. Otherwise I wouldn't have photographed him."
"No reason to apologize, quite the opposite. Sometimes you have to force his happiness. Later, he'll be grateful when he can show the pictures to his children and grandchildren."
"Well, but I don't want to be blacklisted on the first day."
"Don't worry, it's not as serious as it sounds. He'll grumble a little, but he won't be really angry with you. Or did he say something like that?"
"No. I congratulated him on his win, and he said he'd held back a bit, smiling. Then his coach came and sent him to the locker room."
"Tim smiled? Wow, I'll have to put a red dot on the calendar. Since... well, since his mother left us, he rarely smiles. I think that's a good sign; you'll definitely get along well."
Hopefully. And hopefully I didn't ruin everything with my emotional confusion.
"So, are you staying with your mom for a while? I'll check on Tim in the cabin and then bring him here."
And he was gone. My mother hadn't had a chance to say anything the whole time, which was surely a completely new experience for her. Instead, after Reinhardt's disappearance, she turned to me.
"So, Danny, be honest. Do you have a good feeling about this?"
Great choice of words. I preferred not to tell her how I felt about the whole thing.
"Sure, Mommy. We'll figure it out. And if not, we'll just see who has the stronger arguments: a swimmer or a karateka."
She looked deep into my eyes.
"Do you always have to make everything comical? This is a serious matter."
"Don't worry, honestly. Tim seems okay. He hasn't gone for my throat, and he hasn't seemed to reject me or even hate me. He's probably come to terms with the new family situation just as much as I have."
"Just a settlement? Nothing more?"
"Hey, don't expect too much at once. Reinhardt is nice, and I'm happy for you, but only time will tell how this will all affect my life. In any case, I'm willing to give him every chance. And Tim, too, of course."
"Sorry, Danny. It means a lot to me that you're giving us this chance. I know this isn't easy, especially for you guys. I mean, Reinhardt and I found each other, we love each other—but you're more or less thrown together without knowing much about each other or knowing each other. We're asking a lot of you."
"Don't worry, everything will be fine. By the way, have you talked to Reinhardt about tonight?"
"Not yet, we can discuss that when the four of us are together. Maybe at lunch."
»Okay.«
At that moment, the two objects of our desire, my mother's (Reinhardt) and mine (Tim), approached and sat down with us. Tim's hair was dry again, and I could see its true color: a blonde almost bordering on white, with a few green (!!) highlights. He was wearing his team's tracksuit and white basketball shoes. My mother, the only one who hadn't seen him yet today, greeted him and congratulated him on his victory. The shy smile appeared again on his face, and he thanked me with his head slightly bowed. He didn't exactly seem to be a paragon of self-confidence.
The announcer announced the next race, in which two swimmers from Tim's team would again be competing. Reinhardt reached for the video camera to complete his task.
"I still have to film the next two races, after that, nothing else happens that I need to record until Tim's final. What do you think about us all going to the sports bar together for dinner?"
He received general approval. Shortly afterward, the race started, and two minutes later, both of Tim's teammates were eliminated. He seemed to be more or less the only figurehead of his club, because in the next race, only one of his teammates managed to qualify for the final, coming in last. The loud cheers from the stands freed me from the need to make much of a conversation; I just glanced cautiously and somewhat uncertainly in Tim's direction every now and then, and caught him doing the same in my direction a few times. Whether that was because I had captivated him with my superb physique and outstanding personality, or whether there was simply a bit of nervousness around the future "big brother" at play – well, who could say?
Then it was time to head toward the manger. Reinhardt packed up the camera, and we all rose from our seats.
"You three go ahead, Tim knows the ropes. I'll just drop the camera off at the coach's. I don't feel like lugging it around with me."
We did as we were told and set off. Our walk was more or less silent. My mother tried a few times to engage Tim in conversation, but always received only monosyllabic answers and then gave up. This continued in the restaurant, where, to our great surprise, we immediately found a free table for four. Then my mother couldn't stand it anymore.
"Well, Tim, that was a really great performance you put on there. How long have you been swimming?"
"For about eight years. And I'm really not that good."
"But things looked different earlier. You were a lot better than the others in your race."
"Thank you." Finally, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly again. Let's see if that could be strengthened a little.
"She's absolutely right. You might even beat me."
My mother burst out laughing, and Tim looked back and forth between us in confusion. Once my mother had calmed down somewhat, she explained to Tim my somewhat strange relationship with the wet element. And then she felt compelled to comment on my performance in this regard.
"To beat Danny, you'd first have to get him into the water! And if you then hung a ton of lead on your body and gave Danny half the distance as a head start, well, then the risk of losing to him would at least not be completely eliminated."
Of course, I couldn't let this go uncommented and turned to my mother in well-feigned indignation.
"Come on, I'm really not that bad. I'd have a chance against him if he only had to carry half a hundredweight of lead. If he'd let me have a three-quarters lead."
Now we'd done it with our combined strength, Tim burst into raucous laughter, which drew the attention of the neighboring tables. Fittingly, Reinhardt came to our table at that moment, clearly delighted by the sight of his son laughing until he cried.
"I see the ice is broken. What's so funny here, Tim?"
"It's about Danny's swimming skills."
"Exactly, I was just giving Tim some crucial tips on how much he needed to improve his technique to have a chance against me in the pool."
"That was very kind of you."
"Well, that's part of being a big brother, isn't it?"
Tim, who had calmed down a bit in the meantime, burst out laughing again at this exchange, while Reinhardt and my mother looked at each other with joy and relief. My mother turned to Reinhardt's son.
"Tim, this is self-service. Shall we two go and get food and drinks for all of us?"
Reinhardt intervened.
"Leave it, Maria, I'll take care of it."
"No way, Reinhardt. Look at Danny, he's wearing a fresh white shirt, he definitely doesn't need any Coke stains on it."
"Well, I'm really not that clumsy!"
"Still, we'd rather not take any risks. Agreed, Tim?"
"Sure. Dad, Danny, what do you want to eat and drink?"
While Reinhardt placed his order, I quickly scanned the menu. Ah yes, there was something there that suited my taste. Tim had finished with his father and now looked at me questioningly.
"I'll have the gypsy schnitzel with fries and a large Spezi."
"As the Lord wishes."
Then the two temporary waiters left, leaving Reinhardt and me alone at the table. Reinhardt (that is, Reinhardt, not the table!) looked at me briefly and intently, then smiled.
"You two did a great job with Tim, thanks. It's been ages since I've seen him this happy. Sorry if the joke was on you."
"It was worth it. He seemed like he could use a little cheering up."
"Correctly observed."
"Is he always this reserved? I don't mean just like that, with a stranger like me, but in general. My mother praised his race, but he acted like he wasn't nearly as good as she made him out to be."
"This is a big problem. Ever since his mother left, well, he's been in a bit of a crisis. Less physically than mentally. He believes it was his fault, that he's simply not good enough and good for nothing. No matter how many people congratulate him on his achievements, he just doesn't believe them. Damn, the boy is a state champion, and he'll probably be again this year, but he didn't want to participate in the championship at all because he was convinced he wasn't good enough. He seems to have lost all self-confidence."
"Stupid situation. What can you do?"
"Not much, except proving him wrong again and again. I consider what happened earlier a good sign. As I said, I haven't witnessed such a fit of laughter from him in a long time. So again: thank you!"
"No problem. After all, we're a family now, or at least we will be soon. So, I'll go after the two of them; they probably won't be able to carry everything on their own."
"Should I go? Or at least come with you?"
"No, you better guard the table. Besides, I like my shirt the way it is, which is to say: white."
"Hey, not you too! Come on, zip off!"
I hurried over and caught my mother and Tim at the perfect moment, just as they had paid at the cash register and were about to head to our table with three trays. I grabbed one of the trays, and when my mother realized who the cheeky thief was, she was filled with relief.
"Heaven sent you, I have no idea how the two of us could have gotten rid of this!"
"It wasn't heaven-sent, but my own brilliant intuition that this was exactly what would happen. I'm not going to risk my food ending up on the floor because of the staff's weakness."
"Oh, thank you, me too!"
But she laughed at her words. Such banter was commonplace for us. The three of us pushed our way back to our table, where Reinhardt had heroically defended the empty seats against the ever-increasing crowds. Phew, we made it, and without any casualties! Luckily, because my stomach was rumbling violently by now, I dug into my food without much preamble, which I devoured in record time. Afterwards, I leaned back contentedly and watched the other three eat.
My mother, as usual, had only treated herself to a plate of salad and a bottle of mineral water. Reinhardt was working on a roulade accompanied by a glass of beer, and Tim was content with potato soup and a glass of orange juice. When everyone had finished their meals, my mother turned the conversation to the rest of the day.
"Reinhardt, have you planned anything we could do after Tim's final race?"
"No, not yet. I thought it would be better if we all talked about it together."
"Good thinking. Danny already has plans for tonight; a friend is throwing one of her famous parties, and he doesn't want to miss it."
"It's a shame, I was actually hoping we could do something together, especially so the boys could get to know each other a little better."
Hmm, I really didn't want to disappoint him, but I also didn't want to miss Katja's party. Wait, what was that? Was that an idea crawling through my brain? Wow, that could be the solution.
"I'm really sorry, Reinhardt, but the party's been planned for a long time. But I have an idea: Why doesn't Tim just come along? We could get to know each other some more, and you two would have a free evening."
"I don't know. Maria, what do you mean? What kind of parties are these?"
"Don't worry, Reinhardt, the group may have gone a little crazy, but they're completely harmless. I actually think it's a good idea. Tim will get to know a few of Danny's friends, and the two of them can bond without us two old folks constantly stepping on their toes."
"If you say so. Tim, what do you say?"
"I don't know. I don't want to intrude. Who knows if Danny's friends will even want me there."
"Don't worry about it, they want it. Especially the girls!"
"But they'll all be older than me."
"Not all of them. Most are seventeen or eighteen, but there will be a few your age there too. Mainly younger siblings, they're always invited. As long as they're not too young. Anyway, how much older am I than you? Six months, nine months? It really doesn't make much difference."
"Okay, if you say so."
"Hey, don't be so gloomy! I promise you'll have fun."
Maybe that was exactly what he was afraid of, because he was looking at me now with a somewhat pained, even a little fearful expression. But there was no way I was going to let him off the hook now. Aside from the fact that I really liked him, what Reinhardt had told me privately had left a certain impression. I mean, when my father died, that was bad enough, but at least we knew it was a tragic accident and that none of us could have changed it. Tim, on the other hand, seemed to blame himself for his "mother" abandoning him and his father, and I could imagine quite vividly what was going through his sweet little head.
"Okay, that settles that. What time does Tim have to be home?"
I looked at his father. Reinhardt, however, shrugged.
"Tim hasn't been a big partygoer so far, I have no idea. Maria, what do you think?"
"Well, it's Saturday, so let him off the leash a little. One o'clock should be enough; Katja's parties usually end by that time anyway."
"Great. Now we just have to figure out where I can pick him up. I don't want him wandering the streets in the middle of the night, possibly alone."
"He could stay in our guest room, which would be only a five-minute walk from the party, and he'd go with Danny."
"That sounds reasonable, Maria, thanks for the offer. So, it's a deal. And what are we two old people doing tonight?"
"I don't know, didn't you mention something about a new pub around the corner?"
"The Hotchkins? Good idea, I've been meaning to try that."
Reinhardt looked at my mother, and you could see his grey cells working.
"Hey guys, can we count on you two? It might get late for Maria and me too, and I think it wouldn't be a bad idea if she spent the night with us. But then we need to be sure that everything will go smoothly for you. What do you say?"
I looked at Tim, and Tim looked at me. He shrugged. That was enough encouragement for me.
"Go ahead, I told you you'd have a free evening. And I'll look after the little one."
The last sentence earned me a middle finger from the aforementioned person, but also a slight smile, which revealed that the gesture wasn't meant too seriously. Then Tim turned to his father.
"Dad, we'll have to stop by our place later. I don't have the right clothes for a party or anything for an overnight stay."
He was probably right, and Reinhardt also recognized this.
"No problem. After your victory, we'll go home. You grab a few things, then I'll treat you all to coffee at the Italian restaurant, and then we'll drop you two youngsters off at Maria's house. Agreed?"
There were no dissenting voices. Now that we'd all been fed and the lavish palaver had successfully concluded, we left the hospitable venue and returned to our seats in the stands. Tim went straight to the locker room; his final race would be called in half an hour. I got the camera ready again, changed the memory card and batteries, and set off to take more pictures. As I leisurely walked away from the other two, I overheard them telling each other how happy they were that everything had gone so smoothly. Well, what can I say? I was very pleasantly surprised myself. Although there was hardly any chance that Tim would return my deeper feelings—I also liked him as a brother; I could have done much worse. Now I just had to wait and see what would develop from this.
Half lost in thought, half taking photos, I didn't even notice how quickly the time passed, until Tim's race was called. I hurried to get a good position in time for the start. There he was, standing on the starting block in his smart blue swimsuit, and I just had time to aim at him before the starting gun fired.
Over the next minute and a half, I took several more photos, mostly with Tim in the spotlight. Tim, in turn, justified the attention he received with an extremely good race, never giving his opponents even the slightest chance. At his finish, he was more than two body lengths ahead and set a new national record. The spectators went wild, especially two particular spectators, and I was thrilled, too. Fortunately, thanks to my strategically chosen position, I was one of the first to congratulate Tim after he climbed out of the pool. He seemed a bit more confident now, as if he had proven to himself that he wasn't all he was cracked up to be.
After the next race, my mother and Reinhardt gathered to witness the awards ceremony up close. Naturally, I was there with my camera. Tim received his medal and a rather large trophy, and he was beaming from ear to ear. A sight that, in turn, brought tears of joy to his father's eyes. His son really seemed to mean a great deal to him, which was exactly how it should. Good prospects for the future, that is, if he could feel at least a fraction of that for me over time. It was obvious that my mother had already taken Tim into her heart.
As Tim stepped off the podium, he immediately rushed over to us and received the congratulations he deserved from the other two. When Reinhardt told him how proud he was of him, Tim couldn't hold back his tears either, and the two hugged each other tightly. My mother put her arm around my shoulders (not easy given the size difference) and smiled happily to herself. She seemed quite pleased with the day so far.
Afterwards, the hero of the day went to the locker room to change out of his tracksuit for something more appropriate. Fifteen minutes later, we all met at the cloakroom in the foyer. Tim appeared in all black: a black turtleneck, black jeans, a black jacket, black gloves, and a matching hat.
"I'm ready, we can."
"Did you dry your hair properly?"
"I have it, don't worry. I don't want to catch something just before Christmas."
By now, we'd also retrieved our jackets and coats, and I slipped into my outermost line of defense. Tim looked me up and down.
"Cool jacket."
"Thanks. Above all, nice and warm!"
"Tim, you have to remember this: Danny and sub-zero temperatures are like fire and water, they just don't mix."
Tim and Reinhardt laughed. Thanks, Mom.
"Just mock her and freeze."
We walked towards the exit and I pulled the hood over my head.
"Are you sure you're not subject to the mask ban in that elevator?"
"So what? Tim, we could never take the tram with you for that. You'd be immediately flagged as a fare dodger."
"Touch."
"Well, at least you can never get lost if you fall into a snowdrift."
Now we were all laughing, and two minutes later we reached Reinhardt's car. A dark green Chrysler Stratus, not bad. I've always had a preference for American cars, and even though this wasn't a Viper or even a Corvette, it was definitely better than the everyday German counterparts.
After a five-minute drive, the temperature in the car slowly became comfortable, and I leaned back into the seat. A quarter of an hour later, which was mostly filled with uninterrupted conversation between my mother and Reinhardt, we reached our destination, a newly renovated old building. Reinhardt turned off the engine.
"You're coming in for a few minutes, right?"
Since I knew from personal experience how quickly a car cools down in the prevailing outside temperatures, this offer came in very handy. We got out and entered the house, where we had to overcome a height difference of three floors until we reached the apartment door with the nameplate "Bergner." Reinhardt opened the door and, like a doorman at a luxury hotel, guided us past him into the hallowed halls. "Halls" was quite appropriate, by the way – large rooms, high ceilings, a full-size bowling alley could have easily fit in the hallway. I'll have to talk to my mother about this at some point. If we were to move in together, hopefully it would be in our house and not here, as nicely decorated as the apartment was.
We took off our jackets and coats and slipped out of our snow-soaked shoes – which presented Reinhardt with a small problem.
"Sorry, but we don't have any guest slippers at the moment. I threw the old ones in the dumpster last week. Is that a problem?"
The two of us guests looked at each other, then at the carpeted floor, then shook our heads.
"No, Reinhardt, really not."
"Very nice. Tim, can you pack some things? We'll wait for you in the living room."
"Okay, I'm on my way."
He made his way downstairs, and while Reinhardt opened the living room door for my mother, I watched his son leave. He stopped after a few steps, paused briefly, and then turned to us.
"Danny, do you want to come to my room?"
I certainly wouldn't miss this opportunity, but I tried not to show my enthusiasm about the invitation too clearly.
"Sure, why not?"
I followed Tim to the end of the miserably long corridor, where he opened a door bearing a large "No Trespassing" sign intended to deter uninvited visitors. Well, I guessed I didn't fit that description, so I fearlessly followed him into his private chambers. His room was considerably smaller than I had expected, considering the scale of the other rooms I'd already seen. My surprise must have been obvious.
"What is it, don't you like it?"
"Yes, yes, I was just thinking of something bigger."
The room was considerably smaller than my own. At most half the size, although almost twice the height. But it was very comfortably furnished. In a corner by the window stood a convertible couch, which served as a bed at night and a seat padded with lots of pillows during the day. Opposite it was a small wall unit with a fold-out desk, a small television, and a stereo system. Behind glass were a good dozen trophies and even more medals. There was also a wardrobe and a few shelves. Various posters hung on the walls, although I couldn't quite make sense of their combination. I mean, how do Lara Croft and the Backstreet Boys fit together? I turned back to my host, who now set about answering my unspoken question.
"I could have had a bigger room, but I like it better this way. It's somehow more comfortable when you can't get lost in your own room. The next room up is three times as big; I wouldn't even know what I could fit in there."
"Funny, but the word cozy just came to mind."
Tim smiled at me (seemingly relieved).
"You better sit on the couch while I pack my bag."
I did as I was told, and before Tim put his announcement into action, he turned on the radio, where the Spice Girls, whom I don't particularly admire, were performing. The couch was even more comfortable than it looked, and I took the opportunity to put my feet up for a bit after all that standing around by the pool.
Meanwhile, Tim had taken out a gym bag and began packing various things from several compartments and drawers. At first, I tried to follow his instructions, but eventually the short night before took its toll, and I must have actually fallen asleep.
"Danny? Hey, Danny, wake up!"
"Hmm... What? Oh crap, sorry, I must have dozed off. What did you just say?"
Now Tim didn't smile at me, no, he grinned mockingly! Okay, I guess I deserved it.
"I wanted to know if there's any dress code for the party. What should I wear?"
"Whatever you want, as long as you don't show up stark naked—which wouldn't be advisable in these temperatures anyway—everything goes." Huh, my mind wasn't quite there yet, otherwise I certainly wouldn't have blurted that out. Although, the idea... Tim stark naked... isn't so bad after all.
"What will you wear?"
"I don't know yet. Maybe white jeans and a blue shirt. Let's see what's hanging in the closet."
"I have something like that too. Would you mind if I wore it?"
"No problem. It doesn't bother me, but I would advise you never to show up to a party wearing the same dress as my mother. She can get pretty toxic."
"It's good that you told me that. I'll be careful. Luckily, I have a wide selection of clothes, so I should always be able to find something that's significantly different from what she's wearing."
Wow, that little guy had a sense of humor! Very good. We looked at each other and burst out laughing. When we'd calmed down, Tim looked at me somewhat uncertainly.
"What do you think, should I change now or wait until just before the party?"
"I guess it's better at my place. Especially safer. After all, your father wants to take us all to an Italian restaurant, and there are a lot of things he can pour on our clothes there."
Tim didn't seem to mind my little dig at his father; in fact, he was about to burst out laughing again. But he pulled himself together.
"You're right, that wouldn't be so great. So I'd better pack everything."
That's exactly what he did. Shortly afterward, he disappeared for a moment and returned with a smaller bag, which presumably contained his toiletries. He then packed these into his large sports bag.
"So, that's all, we can go as far as I'm concerned."
"Then we should probably see what our old folks are up to."
With a bit of sadness, I said goodbye to the comfortable couch and left Tim's room, trailing Tim in tow. Loud laughter erupted from the living room, and after a brief knock, we entered.
"Dad, I'm ready."
"Do you have everything you need?"
"I think so."
"And if he forgot something, it's not so bad, Danny can definitely help him with everything."
"Well, if you think so. Then go ahead, the Italian is waiting."
We left the house, got in the car, and five minutes later we were where we wanted to be. We found a nice spot by the window and perused the selection. Luckily for me, they served not only ice cream, but also a wide selection of cakes and pies. I opted for quark cake and a hot chocolate, and surprisingly, Tim agreed with me. We didn't have to wait long, and our order was soon served.
Reinhardt generously refrained from soiling other people's clothing and limited himself to decorating his own shirt with a coffee stain—which earned him a pained look from my mother.
"So Reinhardt, if we move in together, I refuse to constantly wash your dirty clothes! How can such a big guy be such a clumsy guy!"
"I plead guilty, but I point out mitigating circumstances. Look at that cup handle; it's not for such large hands."
She had to agree with him, though, and the rest of the coffee klatch passed peacefully and without further incident. Afterward, it wasn't long before Tim and I were dropped off at our house. The usual mix of farewells and reprimands followed.
"So, here we are. You guys behave yourselves, we're counting on you, got it?"
"Sure, Mom, don't worry."
"Hmm." She pulled me aside and lowered her voice. "Take care of Tim a little, so he doesn't end up sitting around the party all alone. He doesn't strike me as a great person to approach others on his own."
"Don't worry, I'll make sure he has fun too."
We went back to the other two, where Reinhardt was just catching up with his son.
"So, Tim, have fun. And remember, Danny's in charge. If he tells you something, listen, okay?"
Hmm, that sounded promising. Although, I certainly wouldn't take advantage of it. Never. Honestly.
"Got it."
A few brief farewells, and the two adults drove off. I looked at my charge.
"So, we're rid of those two lovebirds. Come in."
I opened the front door and pushed Tim into the hallway.
"The cloakroom is on the left, hang yourself up."
"Where can I put my wet shoes?"
"There's a rubber mat directly behind you. Put it on there."
While I was throwing my jacket onto a hanger, Tim took off his shoes, and it became clear once again that our hallway was a bit too narrow for two people. In other words, we kept bumping into each other. When Tim tried to push past me to the coat rack, I stopped him.
"Wait, this won't work. Give me your jacket, I'll take care of it."
"Thanks, it's probably better this way."
When all the jackets and shoes were finally where they belonged, I led Tim to the stairs.
"Go on upstairs, my room is the second door on the left."
"And what about you?"
"I'll be right there, I just want to get something from the kitchen. Now that your father's gone, it shouldn't be too dangerous to open a bottle of Coke. Would you like a glass too?"
"Sure, thanks."
Tim dragged his bag up the stairs, and I emptied the fridge of a large bottle of Coke, along with two glasses. Thus laden, I followed Tim toward my room.
My future little brother had left his bag there and was taking his time to look around. As I mentioned, my room was considerably larger than his and featured, among other things, a large-screen TV and a computer system with two printers, a scanner, a slide scanner, and a 19-inch monitor. Tim, however, had noticed something completely different.
"Tell me, what do you have two beds for?"
There were actually two such pieces of furniture in the room, and there was a good reason for that.
"The one on the left belongs more or less to Thomas, my best friend. He's been staying here pretty regularly for at least ten years—no wonder, he has an older brother and three younger sisters, and he's always happy to get away from the chaos for a night or two."
"I don't know, I always wanted siblings. It's no fun being alone."
I hadn't really thought about it yet. Being alone didn't bother me much, and besides, as I said, Thomas was a frequent guest.
"Well, it looks like your wish is finally coming true. I can't serve you as a sister, but I'm available as a brother."
"Well, I was thinking more of a younger brother, but I guess I can live with it."
Tim smiled at this, so I didn't worry about it any further.
"So this is Thomas's bed, and I thought I'd sleep here."
"Do you want to? Mom said something about the guest room, but if you want, you can sleep here. We just have to change the bedding."
"If I'm not bothering you too much, I'd actually prefer to be here. Please don't laugh at me, but this is the first time in ages that I've spent the night in a strange house, and all alone in a strange room... well, I'll have to get used to it."
"No problem. Besides, it's probably more fun with two people. If you want, you can take your toiletries to the bathroom—that's the door next to the closet. I'll take care of the bedding in the meantime."
Tim took his bag and opened the door, only to turn to me shortly afterwards with wide eyes.
"You have your own bathroom? Complete with a shower and tub?"
"Yep. After I started getting into more and more arguments with my mom, she had an additional bathroom installed."
"Great." And he disappeared into the aforementioned sanctuary.
I, in turn, grabbed all the bedding from Thomas's bed and carried it to the guest room to swap it with the one there. Back in my room, I made every effort to make the bed as perfect as before, but to be honest, I wasn't much of a star in that regard. Thomas, on the other hand—well, let's just say, both the couple and his future wife would be delighted with him. As I was making the final, more or less unsuccessful adjustments, Tim came back out of the bathroom.
"Well, is everything stowed away?"
"Yes. You're really lucky, having such a huge bathroom all to yourself. When I think of home... It's especially annoying in winter when you have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, it always means a trek down the freezing cold corridor."
"Well, as the saying goes: My toilet is your toilet. At least tonight you'll be spared such an unpleasant trip."
"Thanks. With benefits like these, I might even be able to get used to having an older brother."
"I hope so, our parents are counting on us."
"It's not my fault. By the way, when do we have to leave? Should I get changed already?"
"We have plenty of time. We don't have to be at Katja's until seven, so it's enough if we leave around three-quarters."
Tim looked at his watch. It was just before four.
"So what do we do with all this time?"
"Well, I don't know what you're doing, but I'm going to jump in the shower now."
"What, I think you're afraid of water?"
"That only applies to deeper waters. I don't mind a nice hot shower. By the way, you've already had a fair amount of water today, but if you want, you can have another one after me."
"Hmm. Thanks for the offer, but I'm not really in the mood for a shower right now."
"No problem, it was just a suggestion."
"Uh, without wanting to sound too pushy, but..."
Tim stopped mid-sentence.
"Come on, spit it out, I'll tell you if you get too pushy."
Which I could hardly imagine.
"Well, my bones are a little sore, and the best thing to do is a hot bath. So, if it's not too much trouble..."
"Absolutely not. When I come home from karate training, that's my favorite thing to do, too."
"Thanks."
"No problem."
I went to my closet and took out a few extra large bath towels.
"Here, take these."
Then I took some clean underwear from my closet and put it in the bathroom. Now the big question arose: Where should I undress? In the bathroom? Well, that would seem a bit silly. In the room? In front of the boy I had a more or less crush on? Not the best idea either. I decided on the happy medium. In the room, I would undress down to my underwear, and then do the rest in the bathroom. I undid the straps of my overalls and let them fall down. Then I pulled the fleece shirt over my head. Then came the moment of truth: I let the jeans slide down my legs. Tim didn't pay much attention to this, but continued to look around the room with interest. He had just discovered my CD collection and was studying it closely. I put my removed clothes on a chair and headed towards the bathroom.
"Right, I'm off. If you want, put on some music or whatever. If anything happens, just come in. With the water running, I won't hear you calling or knocking from outside anyway."
"Okay." Without turning his head toward me, I disappeared into the bathroom.
Once there, I first slipped out of the rest of my clothes, stuffed them into the laundry basket, then laid out my toiletries, adjusted the water temperature to a comfortable level, and finally jumped under the water jet, closing the shower door behind me.
As usual, I completely lost track of time and my surroundings while standing in the shower. There was hardly anything more pleasant for me than the warm water flowing down my back. I was at peace with myself and the world, but suddenly there was a knock on the frosted glass of the shower stall.
»Danny?«
"Yes, what's up?"
"Sorry to bother you, but do you mind if I turn on the tub?"
"Go ahead, I'll be done soon anyway."
"Don't worry, I don't want to rush you. Stay as long as you want."
I really should be ending my shower orgy now, but on the other hand... It was just so pleasant. And again, I was startled by Tim some time later.
"Do you mind if I get in the tub?"
I looked at my waterproof watch. Oops, I'd actually been in the shower for half an hour! Not particularly hospitable. And now I was going to see Tim naked, and he was going to see me too! But whatever, after all, he was the one who came up with the idea, not that I pressured him into it.
"Go ahead. Sorry I'm so slow."
"No problem, I often lose track of time when it comes to things like this."
As I reached for the shower gel and soaped myself thoroughly, I saw Tim's shadow through the frosted glass walk to the tub and then step in. Shortly afterwards, I heard a satisfied groan. I hurried with my errands, and five minutes later, I was wondering how best to escape from the shower stall and the bath. I didn't really come up with anything. So I rinsed myself thoroughly again, then turned off the tap, opened the stall door, and stepped out. It was to my advantage that Tim couldn't really see me from his position at this point; between us lay the shower stall and its outward-opening door. So I could feel more or less safe from his gaze and dry myself undisturbed. My things, however, were at the other end of the bathroom, and I would soon have to leave the privacy screen. Well, there was one more option. I tied one of the large bath towels around my waist and moved into Tim's field of vision.
"Well, little brother, is it nice?"
I dared to look in his direction without really seeing anything, because with the exception of his head, his entire body was hidden under a thick layer of foam.
"Thanks, big brother. Simply wonderful. I can already feel my muscles relaxing."
"Then that's fine. Stay inside as long as you want. I'll let you know in advance so we can leave on time."
"Okay. I'll try not to fall asleep."
I grabbed my things from the stool and left the bathroom. It was now almost five, still way too early to get fully dressed for the party. So I just slipped into my clean clothes, which, like the morning before, consisted of a T-shirt and tights (now that's what you call a well-trained son). Let's see how Tim would react.
Once that was done and I had quickly dried my hair, I sat cross-legged in my computer chair and started up my Mac. I wanted to use the time Tim was spending in the tub to quickly check my emails. The computer booted up, and a few minutes later I was engrossed in answering a classmate's call for technical assistance. I didn't notice that Tim had gotten out of the tub and returned to the room until he spoke directly to me.
"I'm back. That was simply wonderful, exactly what I needed."
"Very nice. Doesn't surprise me, for a water rat like you."
"That's just how I am. Even as a little kid, I jumped in every puddle."
"I really hope you've given up that habit by now."
"I think so. It hasn't happened to me in the last three months, anyway."
I turned my chair and looked in Tim's direction. He was standing in the room, wearing only boxer shorts, looking around.
"Do you have a hairdryer somewhere?"
I pointed to my bed, where the device was lying half-hidden by the pillow. To get there, Tim had to walk past me, and I was able to admire his swimmer's body up close. And "admire" was the right word. Although it was already December, he still had the remnants of a summer tan, and his smooth skin was untarnished by any hairs or other unsightly things. Luckily, my loosely hanging T-shirt covered a certain region of my body. Tim, who had stopped a meter away from me, was now staring at precisely these lower parts of my body. However, as his next words showed, he had something other than my aforementioned problem in mind.
"Tell me, what are you wearing?"
Even though I knew exactly what he meant, I decided to act a little uncomprehending.
"A T-shirt, why?"
"Nonsense. I mean down there. They're pantyhose, right?"
"Oh, that. Yes, you're right."
"And you wear something like that?"
"Not entirely voluntary, my mother insists."
"Well, I would never play along with that."
An idea came to me: he just shouldn't feel too safe.
"Just wait, once we're a family, this order will apply to you too, you can count on it."
"Never! If necessary, I'll talk to my father about it; he'll talk her out of it."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. My mother can be damn stubborn, and knowing her, after a conversation like that between the two of them, not only you but your father too will be walking around in those things."
"I really can't imagine it."
"Trust me. But it's not that bad; at least they're nice and warm."
"That seems to be the most important thing for you."
"Exactly. If winter can't be avoided, then at least I don't want to freeze. And don't tell me you only wear jeans in this cold."
"Nope, I never said that either."
Tim went ahead and got the hairdryer, then returned to "his" bed and sat down on it, reaching for a pile of laundry that I just noticed.
"Thermal underwear. Between you and me, I don't like being cold either. Besides, my dad would never let me go out without something underneath. But he'd never think of putting tights on me."
"Well, that's more of a mother's domain. We'll see. Either I'll be allowed to wear something like you in the future, or you'll soon find a stack of tights in your underwear drawer. I'm afraid the latter will happen, though; the odds are probably about 10:1."
Tim grumbled something into his nonexistent beard and began putting on the aforementioned long underwear. I watched him, and a few moments later he was dressed head to toe in light blue. He also added a pair of thick socks. This sight reminded me of another question that had been bothering me since the swim meet.
"Tell me, do these swimsuits really do anything? I mean, okay, you won, that should be proof enough, but still..."
"As you may have noticed, someone else in my semifinal was wearing a suit like that, and he only came second to last."
"Hmm, right, I completely forgot."
"But seriously: my coach says you have to believe in it for it to work. I believe in it, and as you can see, it seems to be working. Plus, there's something else behind it: in return for me wearing it, our team is fully outfitted with swimwear and training gear from the sponsor."
"That's quite an incentive, though."
"Exactly. We're neither a particularly big nor a particularly good club, and we have to be careful with the money. So, of course, an offer like this comes at just the right time."
"Well, if you keep winning like this, your club's status will probably change for the better soon. And don't start saying you're not that good again. Finally believe what everyone else tells you. Or does that just not register in your head?"
Tim looked down embarrassed.
"Maybe you're right after all. It's just... well, I guess I'm pretty critical of myself."
"You're no longer critical, you're overly strict. But we'll get rid of that."
Now Tim laughed, and I leaned back in my chair, satisfied. I just couldn't get enough of the sight. He reached for the hairdryer, then looked back in my direction. And his gaze froze! Hey, I thought he'd gotten over the whole thing with the tights? But wait, he wasn't staring at me, he was staring past me. But at what? Oh my god! I suddenly realized what had shocked him. I hadn't given the computer the attention it deserved for several minutes, with the result that the screen saver had activated. And it consisted of a slide show. To be precise, a slide show of rather explicit and revealing images that I had downloaded from the internet during late nights. In a split second, I turned to the computer and moved the mouse, thus ending the screen saver. Of course, covering the well after the kid fell in. Good work, Danny. I didn't dare turn back to Tim.
A period of time passed that seemed like an eternity to me, but was probably only a few short minutes, if not seconds. Then Tim found his voice again.
"Um, Danny, are you gay?"
Well, what should I answer? I thought feverishly, but there was no way out in sight. There was really nothing left to hide or deny. This was probably the end of my friendship with my future little brother, which had begun so hopefully. Without turning around, I answered him in a low voice.
"Looks like it, doesn't it?"
"However."
"And?"
"What and?"
"Well, are you angry, shocked, disgusted? I'm assuming you don't want to sleep in this room anymore. I'll change the bedding again."
"Not so fast, okay? I need to figure this out myself first."
Hmm, could there really still be hope? Okay, I knew I probably didn't stand a chance with him, but I would be perfectly content if he accepted me as a brother and friend. I gathered all my courage and turned to him. I saw an expression on Tim's face that I hadn't seen before. He wasn't smiling, nor was he angry, and I couldn't detect the introverted look that had been so pronounced that morning. Then he looked straight at me, and I found it extremely difficult to hold his gaze.
"Leave it, I'll sleep here in the room anyway. That is, if you don't mind."
"Absolutely not, but... I mean, will you be able to handle it?"
"Don't worry about it. Besides, I don't have to worry about you attacking me in the night, do I?"
I'd rather not tell him how much I'd love to do just that. Besides, I knew I would avoid it at all costs.
"You can be absolutely sure, you're in no danger from me."
"Why not?"
I thought I had misheard.
»Huh?«
"I mean, do you think I'm ugly or why am I not in danger from you?"
I had to digest that first. And then I decided to be somewhat honest with him.
»Äh, Tim, ich finde dich wirklich nicht häßlich, ganz im Gegenteil. Aber ich kann dir garantieren, daß ich niemals, wirklich niemals, irgendetwas gegen deinen Willen tun würde.«
»Da bin ich ja beruhigt. Ich dachte schon ich hätte irgendwas an mir, was dich abstößt.«
»Wirklich nicht.«
Eines mußte ich nun allerdings wirklich genauer wissen, seine Frage, ob ich ihn häßlich finden würde, hatte in mir doch einige Zweifel geweckt.
»Sag mal, Tim, flipp jetzt bitte nicht aus, aber … bist du etwa auch schwul?«
Er starrte mich eine Minute schweigend an.
»Du brauchst die Frage nicht zu beantworten, vergiß es einfach.«
»Nein. Du warst ehrlich zu mir, also muß ich es auch zu dir sein…«
Ich unterbrach ihn.
»Tim, du mußt gar nichts. Meine Ehrlichkeit war auch nur erzwungen, wenn nicht die Sache mit dem Computer gewesen und ein weiteres Verschweigen eh unmöglich gewesen wäre, hätte ich es dir bestimmt nicht gesagt, zumindest nicht schon heute.«
"It's okay. You want to know if I'm gay? To be honest, I don't know. I've never thought about it. I mean, I've never been with anyone, neither a girl nor a boy. And it's not like I've ever been missing anything. But I can tell you one thing for sure: I don't have a problem with you being gay, really."
Phew, now I was relieved. The weight that had been lifted from my heart was the size of an Ice Age boulder. And the impact had certainly been recorded by all the surrounding seismological stations.
"Thank you, Tim. This really means a lot to me. I really like you, don't worry, as a brother and a friend. I'd hate for this to put a strain on our relationship."
"Like I said, it won't. But just to be on the safe side, so I don't let it slip: does anyone else know about this? After all, I don't want your mother to have a heart attack because of one careless word I said."
"Definitely not her, she was the first to find out. But it's nice of you to think of it. Well, apart from my mother, all my friends actually know, so there's no danger."
"And my father?"
"If he doesn't know from my mother—and I doubt she told him without asking me first—then he's still clueless. And I'd prefer it stay that way for now. I'll certainly tell him at some point, but I really want him to hear it from me, at the time I see fit."
"Okay, my lips are sealed."
"Thanks."
"But what I'm really interested in is: when and how did you notice it yourself? If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but I'd really like to know."
So I started telling Tim my story, with all the ups and downs, the support and the rejections. I even told him about the time I seriously considered suicide. Now that was something I hadn't told anyone before; not even my mother knew about it, because I didn't want to worry her. Why I told all this to Tim now – I have no idea. Maybe it was just because I just had to tell someone. I had buried that time deep in my memories, and somehow it felt good to let it out for once. Tim listened very attentively, asked a few questions, and made a genuine effort to understand everything.
"You really wanted to kill yourself?"
"Well, not really, otherwise I certainly would have. But the thought did cross my mind a few times."
"Why?"
"I was scared. Afraid that no one would want anything to do with me anymore. Afraid that I would lose my mother after losing my father. Afraid of no longer having any friends. I was fourteen or fifteen, so such thoughts can be quite terrifying."
"Sorry, that was a stupid question."
"You don't need to apologize. The question wasn't that stupid. It's just hard to understand for someone who hasn't experienced it themselves. At the time, I thought I had no one to talk to about it. Luckily, I eventually got the courage to tell my mother, and from then on—with a slight delay—things started to look up again. And Tim?"
»And?«
"If you ever need someone to talk to and don't want to go to Reinhardt or even my mother, then try me. You can talk to me about anything; I will never laugh at you or despise you for anything or anything. You'll see, if you let someone in on your problems, it will be much easier to solve them."
"Thanks. Honestly. No one has ever made me an offer like that."
"Well, it's written. Whenever you want to come back to it, that's fine with me. But darn it, we've wasted a lot of time chatting. We need to get going; I have some things to do before the party at Katja's."
"Shit. My fault again, I kept us so long with my curiosity."
"Stop apologizing all the time. It's late, but not too late. Besides, I was the one who delivered such a long monologue. But come on, let's get dressed and then head out."
"Agreed. And Danny... thank you for telling me all this. It means a lot to me that you confided in me."
"Hey, no secrets between brothers, okay?"
»Okay.«
With these words, we both stood up and got fully dressed. I turned off the computer, grabbed two large plastic bags, and headed toward the bedroom door.
"Come on, Tim, we need to dismantle some of the furniture."
He looked at me with a rather confused expression.
"What do you mean by that?"
"So, my mom is a total radio freak. She wants to be able to listen to her favorite station in every room. But we only have one radio hooked up to the cable, and she can't get that station via antenna. So I built a radio link for her from that one radio, with speakers in all the rooms she's in. And now we're dismantling this radio link, minus the speakers, and taking it with us to the party. That way, Katja can entertain the whole house from the system in her room."
"Aha, so that's why you absolutely had to go to this party."
"Well, I'd like to think I'm being invited solely because of my inimitable charm, but I fear my technical genius also plays a role."
In the meantime we had arrived on the ground floor.
"So come on, you hold the bags for me, I'll pack the equipment."
Ten minutes later, everything was stowed away, we slipped into shoes and jackets, and set off on the short walk to the venue of the major cultural event.
After a few minutes of intense suffering under the prevailing cold, I pressed the bell, and apparently Katja had been standing right behind the door, because the door was opened immediately.
"Hi Danny, I'm so glad you could come. Thomas told me about your little dilemma."
"Are you happy to see me or the contents of these bags?"
"Well, how could you doubt me! The answer to that is obvious. Bring me the bags! You can pick them up here tomorrow."
"Your warm greetings always surprise me. By the way, this is Tim, my future... er, future stepbrother, I mean. I thought I'd bring him along, I hope you don't mind. Tim, this disheveled figure here is Katja, the unwelcoming organizer of today's event. And if she doesn't let us in soon and save us from the cold, we're going home."
"No way, get in. Danny, you can't leave until the system is running. Your new brother is cute, he can stay anyway. You have to tell me
just say whether I should set him up with a girl or a boy."
Oh oh, she had really put her foot in it. Poor Tim turned alternately bright red and deathly pale.
"Just don't listen to what Katja says. If you take her seriously, it's your own fault. Besides, Katja, your matchmaking never worked for me. How do you think you could do better with Tim?"
"Quite simply, he's definitely better looking than you."
"Okay. You want a party without music—you'll get a party without music. Tim, how about a cozy video night at our house?"
"Oh no! Oh, please, please, Danny, you said yourself that I'm not to be taken seriously! Please stay here and set up the system, I beg you! I'll do anything you ask. Should I organize a male escort for you tonight? Or should I force a few of the guys who are coming today to play a round of strip poker with you? Name your wish, and it shall be granted."
"You know what, I don't want to be like that. I'll save that wish for a better opportunity, and I guarantee I won't forget. So come on, Tim, take off your jacket and get to work."
Katja jumped up and down happily.
"Yippee, I knew I could rely on you. You are and will always be my favorite gay."
"Thank you very much."
Suddenly she put her hands over her mouth.
"Oh my God, sorry Danny. I hope Tim already knew, or did I let it slip again?"
"He already knows, even if only for a little over an hour."
"That's reassuring. So, you know where everything is, I have other things to worry about."
"Is anyone else here yet?"
"Jürgen is preparing the grill, and Lisa and her boyfriend have already stocked the bar. The first guests will probably show up in about half an hour. Do you have enough time?"
"Don't worry, it's not the first time."
Katja disappeared, and Tim and I set about fitting wireless receivers to the speakers in the rooms. Once that was done, we went to Katja's room to connect the transmitter to her system. Just as I was about to open the door, the owner of the room came running in.
"Wait, Danny, my system is broken, we have to use my brother's."
"Does he already know about his luck?"
Katja and her little brother Ralph, just fifteen years old, didn't get along particularly well—well, I felt a little sorry for the poor little fellow. Living under the same roof as Katja all the time must have seemed like a completely undeserved, constant punishment to him.
"No, but he's not even home. He's out with his friends. Just go in and plug everything in. Right, I'm off."
I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of just breaking into a stranger's room and messing around with someone else's property without asking, but I had to get by somehow. With Tim in tow, I walked to Ralph's door and opened it with a flourish, then took a long step into the room that was completely unknown to me. It was pitch black, so I reached purposefully for the light switch, and shortly afterwards, the light from several halogen spotlights blinded my eyes. But not enough to prevent me from seeing that Katja had been completely wrong when she said her brother wasn't home. Ralph was there, lying on his bed—and he was clearly not alone. I could only really see him, but there were a few blond hairs that didn't match his brown ones, and besides, I was pretty sure that the last time we'd seen him, he'd only had two feet, not four. He was fully dressed, but the position of his body didn't leave much room for interpretation as to what was going on. The kid had nerves – party preparations were in full swing all over the house, and he was calmly enjoying himself with his girlfriend! Yeah, youth. He wasn't thrilled by my impetuous intrusion, though.
"Damn it, what's going on? Who's there? Get out of here!"
Did he want to know who had broken in, or did he want the intruder to leave immediately? As much as I could understand his reaction, my natural curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to answer his questions first.
"It's me, Danny. Your lovely sister told me to connect the radio transmitter to your stereo. Apparently, you're not even in the house."
Ralph continued to remain in the position in which I had found him.
"That was never mentioned, damn it."
The little commotion had now also attracted Katja.
"What's going on here? Ralph? I think you're out with your friends?"
The person in question slumped a little.
"Danny, please give me two minutes, okay? And get that stupid goat off my back."
»Okay.«
I pushed myself back out through the bedroom door, pushing Katja and Tim ahead of me. Once we were all outside, I closed the door and spread myself out in front of her, preventing Ralph's sister from rushing back in.
"That little bastard, what is he doing here?"
"Uh, just as a heads-up, the little bastard lives here. This is his room. We're the ones who really have no business being in there."
"And what do we do now? He'll never let me use his system!"
"You have only yourself to blame, you model big sister."
At that moment the doorbell rang again.
"I suggest you take care of your guests while I try to sort this out. If Ralph sees your face again, he'll definitely get stubborn."
"Okay, I'll count on you. But later I want to know who that slut was he was messing around with. Our parents put me in charge!"
"Ah, come on, Katja. Your brother's growing up. My God, they were both fully clothed, nothing much could have happened. Besides, do I need to remind you of the stunts you pulled when you were fifteen? So go ahead, get lost, I'll take care of everything."
She gave me another doubtful look, but my last remark seemed to have sunk in. Shaking her head, she made her way to the front door, which was now ringing furiously. I turned to Tim, who was leaning against the doorpost with a grin on his face.
"Well, I have to give you credit for one thing, Danny, when you're out and about, you can experience a lot."
"I promised you'd have fun."
Tim didn't get a chance to answer because at that moment the door to the room opened and Ralph stuck his head through the crack.
"Danny, would you please come in? Alone."
I glanced briefly at Tim, who shrugged, and then I followed Katja's brother into his room. His visitor had curled up under the covers, only a piece of blond hair peeking out, and a quiet sob could be heard from the corner. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that Ralph's eyes also looked a little red and tear-stained. He sat down on his bed next to the curled-up bundle and stroked the hidden head soothingly.
"Danny, thanks for kicking Katja out."
"It's okay. Ralph, I'm really sorry to barge in like this, but your sister claimed you weren't home."
"My plans have just changed a little."
"You don't need to justify yourself; that's probably more my job. But come on, it's not that bad. I mean, hey, you're getting old enough, aren't you? So how about you introduce me to your girlfriend and we tackle the technical stuff together?"
Ralph gave me a slightly pained look, then turned to the still softly sobbing bundle, took it in his arms, and slowly pulled it upright, the protective blanket slowly but surely slipping away to reveal a tear-stained face. A tear-stained, pretty face. The face of a boy!
"Danny, may I introduce you to Christoph? Chris, this is Danny, a friend of my sister. You don't have to be afraid, he's okay. He's..."
Ralph stopped mid-sentence.
"Go ahead and say it. It's not like I'm making a secret of it. I'm gay. And I'm probably not the only one in this room right now. By the way, is Christoph with an 'f' or a 'ph'?"
»What is ›ph‹.«
"Well, great, you two fit together perfectly. Ralph with a 'ph' and Christoph with a 'ph'. You couldn't have chosen better."
A slight smile spread across two rather stressed faces. Ralph looked at me questioningly.
"What should we do now?"
I thought about it for a moment.
"Is there any way out of your room other than through the main corridor? A back exit, perhaps?"
"No. I mean, there's a back exit, but we'd still have to go downstairs and past the living room."
"Hmm. What about the window? Any way to get down safely?"
We were on the first floor, but maybe there was some kind of flower trellis or something like that.
"The entrance to the underground parking garage is under my window, no chance of getting down there safely."
Damn. I was slowly running out of ideas. In the meantime, the doorbell had rung several more times, and the number of guests was increasing. And Katja had surely already told everyone that she had caught her brother performing "immoral acts." Any attempt to sneak the two lovers out of the house unnoticed was doomed to failure.
"Have you ever thought about coming out? If not, now would be a good time to start."
"You can't be serious! That would be the end of us!"
"So for me, it wasn't the end. And practically everyone out there knows about me."
"Don't worry, my sister will make sure I don't survive."
"Does anyone even know about you two yet?"
"My parents."
Those were the first words I heard from Ralph's friend.
"About you as a couple or just that you're gay?"
"Both."
This answer now seemed to surprise Ralph greatly.
"What? You told your parents? Why?"
"I couldn't help it. They've known I'm into boys for a while, and since I've been with you so much lately, they put two and two together and asked me about it. I wouldn't have told them on my own, but I just couldn't lie to them. Will you forgive me?"
He stared at his friend with wide eyes that made you feel like you had to forgive anything. At least, that's how I felt, and Ralph wasn't spared that impression either.
"Okay, okay. I'll have to get used to it, though. When did that happen?"
"Two weeks ago, after the weekend you spent with me."
"It's been that long? And your parents never said anything, they just smiled at me and treated me like they always do! They even invited me to more sleepovers!"
"You see, Ralph, it's not that bad. Your parents haven't had any problems with me so far. The way I see it, you only have two options: either you leave quietly and silently, where you'll definitely be noticed. Then there'll be a lot of gossip, and everything will happen behind your back, without you being able to defend yourself. Or you can go out there with your head held high, say nothing about the subject at first, but if someone confronts you about it, tell the truth. Your decision, but I don't see any other alternatives."
The two caught sinners looked at each other silently for a moment. Then they nodded, hugged each other once more, and stood up. Ralph took the lead.
"Okay, let's get to it."
I stopped them both on their way to the door.
"Wait, you should do something with your faces first. You're not exactly looking your best right now. The bathroom's right across the street, right?"
"Correct."
"Okay, wait a moment."
I stuck my head out the door and beckoned Tim over.
"Please go to the corner of the corridor and check if the air is clear."
Tim looked at me questioningly, but then did as I asked. He glanced around the corner and gave me a thumbs-up. I opened the bedroom door wide and pushed the two lovesick boys out into the hallway.
"Come on, get going before someone else comes. You'll be back in five minutes, then we'll take care of the tech first. That gives you a little reprieve."
Ralph and Christoph disappeared into the bathroom, and I could hear the key turning in the lock. They could have thought of that earlier in Ralph's room!
For my part, I walked over to Tim, who was staring at me with wide eyes. I grinned and shrugged.
"Did you know this beforehand or was it a surprise for you too?"
"I had no idea. But I think they make a cute couple, don't you?"
"Hmm. In any case, they were lucky that you surprised them."
We stood at the corner for a while, and I explained to Tim what would happen next. Then we heard the key again, and the bathroom door opened. The two boys dashed back down the hall to Ralph's room, and I followed them, pulling Tim along with me. When we arrived in the room, Ralph and Chris were sitting close together on the bed, but when they saw Tim, they immediately moved apart. I had to grin.
"Just sit there, Tim is cool."
Ralph looked at Tim questioningly.
"Is he your... your friend?"
"My future brother. He knows about me, and now about you too. So let's get the technology up and running. That is, if you're still willing to make it available after all this."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Yes. Just say no and I'll leave."
"I actually believe you. But that probably wouldn't be such a good idea anyway. I can't afford to make all those people down there angry with me. Let's get started."
There wasn't much to do; the biggest problem was that, as usual, all the necessary sockets and plugs were located in the most inaccessible places. Just as I had plugged in the last connection, there was a knock on the door. It opened, and Thomas entered.
"Katja sent me to ask how the music is going. And I'd like to see the girl who turned little Casanova's head."
Thomas looked around the room, but couldn't find any female being.
"What, have you already smuggled the little girl out? Good work, Katja will freak out when she finds out."
The four of us looked at each other, the corners of our mouths twitching, then burst out laughing. Even the two people we'd caught joined in. Thomas, on the other hand, stood there completely stunned, unable to keep up.
"Uh, could someone enlighten me?"
"But that would actually be a job for your parents, don't you think?"
Thomas gave me a slightly offended look. Well, I didn't want to let him die stupidly.
"Thomas, this is Tim next to me. We've already talked about him."
"Ah, yes, I'm glad. Good idea that you brought him to the party, that way you're killing two birds with one stone. So, who's that next to Ralph?"
Katja's brother grabbed Chris's hand, gathered all his courage and answered Thomas.
"This is Christoph. He's the one who turned my head."
Thomas gasped for air like a carp out of water.
"That...that...I just don't believe that. Danny's been looking for his dream prince for years, and these two little brats are a couple?"
His expression revealed that he found the whole thing funny.
"Congratulations, you two. Ralph, I hope you realize that if this gets out, half the girls in your grade will fall into severe depression."
I had to agree with him; both Ralph and his friend were truly very attractive. If they weren't a little too young for me, I'd probably be kicking myself for not having tried to get close to Katja's little brother sooner. Thomas brought me back to reality with his next question.
"And how are we going to proceed from here?"
Together, we explained to him how we envisioned the matter proceeding. Thomas wore a serious face and nodded in agreement at the end of our explanations.
"Danny's right, this is the best solution. I think you don't have to worry; the people here are all hand-picked. We've been making sure for a long time that only people who don't have a problem with Danny show up at our parties. It would be stupid if, in the middle of the best mood, some intolerant asshole started hitting on one of our best friends."
Well, that was news to me. And I had sometimes wondered why everything had always gone so smoothly. No one ever looked at me strangely at such celebrations, and strangely enough, those who made silly remarks at school never showed up. Why that was so suddenly became clear to me—and at the same time, I realized that I had even better friends than I had ever dared hope.
"Danny, here are some CDs. You'd better get the music going before angry crowds make their way up here. In the meantime, I'll show Tim around and introduce him to everyone."
With these words, Thomas pressed a bag full of CDs into my hand, grabbed my bewildered future stepbrother, and pulled him out of the room. Okay, if he says so. I reached into the bag and pulled out the CDs, a colorful mix, spanning the charts of the past few years.
"Ralph, this is your system, so you equip it."
He nodded. While plugging in the cables, I'd noticed that he had a 5-disk changer—once it was set up, we'd have peace (or rather, music) for a long time. Three minutes later, the first track started playing, and we decided to go into the lion's den. But before we left the room, I had something else to say.
"Listen, guys, I hope this isn't offending you, but... you know about safe sex, right?"
The color their faces now took on would have done credit to a Dutch greenhouse tomato. A bashful nod was their response.
"Well, that's fine. I just wanted to make sure you weren't doing anything stupid. So let's go downstairs. And remember, just mingle with the guests as if nothing at all has happened."
"Okay. And Danny? Thanks."
"It was a pleasure. Let's march!"
Pushing the unsteady couple ahead of me, I headed downstairs, where the festivities were slowly getting underway. Among the guests, I spotted Thomas's oldest sister, who was just the right age for my two charges. I didn't know if they already knew each other, but I knew they would find out. With gentle pressure, I steered Ralph and Christoph in the direction they wanted.
"Hello Caren, have you managed to persuade Thomas to bring you along again?"
"Hi Danny, well, you know he can't say no to anything I ask. This is Patrick, by the way, my friend. Patrick, this is Danny. He's the one who has the unpleasant task of keeping Thomas out of trouble."
I had to grin; that was actually true—well, at least there was a small grain of truth in it. Thomas sometimes had these strange impulses. For example, he once managed to yell at three bald guys who had more or less accidentally bumped into him. Luckily, I was there to mediate. All I'm saying is: karate. Luckily, it happened on a school trip, otherwise it could have had unpleasant consequences. But back to the current situation. A boy with fiery red hair extended his right hand toward me.
"You'll certainly have your hands full. At least if you can believe what Caren says about her brother."
"It's not quite that bad. By the way, this is Ralph and Christoph. Ralph is in the unfortunate position of being Katja's brother. Or do you already know each other?"
"I've seen Ralph before, but Christoph is new to me. You don't go to our school, do you?"
"No, I go to the same school as Patrick. We already know each other."
The two lovers were obviously in good hands, so I was able to slowly pull away.
"So, have fun, I'm going to take a tour of the house."
I left, trying to spot Tim in the growing crowd. Ah yes, there he was, at the other end of the living room, where Thomas was introducing him to a group of our friends. Tim seemed quite comfortable, and I decided to leave him in Thomas's care for a little while longer. I slowly felt my stomach start to rumble, and I made my way to the manger. Halfway there, however, I was intercepted by our hostess and her boyfriend. I greeted Karsten and immediately tried to disappear again, but I hadn't counted on Katja.
"Stay here! Where are you going in such a hurry?"
"Into the kitchen, if you don't mind. The forced labor you've sentenced me to has made me quite hungry. So if you'll excuse me..."
"No way! You still owe me some answers. So, who was that chick who came on to my little brother?"
"You'd better ask him yourself. By the way, who have you told all this?"
"Just Thomas and Karsten. And Jürgen. And Lisa."
"No one else?"
"No! But why do you want to know?"
Hmm, that sounded better than I feared. If I hurried, I'd be able to catch all of those in time—before there was a big bang.
"Katja, I'm absolutely serious about what's coming next. I want it to stay at just a few people, understand?"
"Well, tell me, since when have you been so interested in my brother?"
"Do you understand me?"
Katja must have seen from my look that the matter was really important and deadly serious to me.
"Yeah, okay, I understand. I promise."
"Good. Karsten?"
"I'm staying completely out of it. I don't care what the little heartbreaker did, no one will find out from me."
"Very nice. Okay, I have to move on."
For the moment, my protesting stomach was forgotten, and I went in search of the people Katja had mentioned as being in the know. A quick glance around, I spotted Lisa handing out drinks with her friend Mike. I pushed my way over to them.
"Hello Lisa, Mike."
"Danny, hello, what can we offer you?"
"Nothing at the moment, thanks. Mike, can I steal your girlfriend for a minute?"
"Go ahead, I can manage on my own. It's not like I have to worry about you."
"Don't be so sure, maybe I've just discovered my bi-sense."
I pulled a surprised Lisa into a quieter corner.
"I heard Katja told you that we caught her brother having, well, a kind of tryst."
"Yes, she did, and I think she should have kept that to herself. I certainly didn't want to know, and I hope you don't plan on spreading it around either."
It's nice when it turns out that you assessed someone correctly.
"Don't worry, I was just about to persuade you not to tell anyone. That doesn't seem necessary now."
"You can count on it. The poor boy is punished badly enough with Katja as a sister. But something else: Thomas was with us earlier and introduced us to your future brother. God, he's cute! And so shy. Knowing you, you immediately fell in love with him."
Great, now it was my turn to blush.
"Am I that easy to see through?"
"Only for those of us who know and love you. Besides, I can relate to Tim. Hell, even I could be weak around him. If you ever tell Mike, I'll staunchly claim I never said it!"
"Too late, I recorded everything for future blackmail attempts. Right, I have to go, do damage control. Save me something nice, something nice to drink, I mean."
I left Lisa to herself again and took another look around the crowd. There were probably fifty or more people there by now, and I decided not to volunteer to clean up after the party this time. Just as I was about to head to the kitchen to see Jürgen, someone tugged on my arm from behind. I turned around, and Thomas and Tim were standing in front of me. The former spoke to me.
"So, there's your brother again. I've shown him around a bit, but now I'd like to start looking for a girlfriend for the evening. So if you'll excuse me..."
And he wanted to get away, but I stopped him for a moment.
"Thomas, you can leave right away, just one more thing. Katja only told you, Karsten, Lisa, and Jürgen about what happened earlier. I'm in the process of sealing everyone's lips, so please shut up too, okay?"
"All right, I'll keep quiet like the grave."
"Okay, zip off."
He was gone, and I was left alone with Tim. He seemed quite cheerful.
"Well, little brother, how do you like it? Do you regret coming along?"
"No, honestly not. The people are nice, the music is good, and somehow I'm starting to realize what I've been missing for the last two or three years."
Well, that made a completely different impression than the little heap of self-doubt I had encountered earlier in the day.
"Very good. Listen, I have one more person to silence. Luckily, this person works in the kitchen, and I desperately need something to eat anyway. Are you coming with me, or do you want to continue mingling with the crowd?"
"I'll come with you. First of all, I'm hungry too, and secondly, I don't want to walk around all alone. Of course, only if I'm not a burden to you."
"Don't worry, you're not. So come on, this is the way."
The path to the kitchen was unmistakable; the smell of steaks and sausages practically drew me in the right direction. Once there, we saw Jürgen loading a large electric grill with all sorts of delicious food. Unfortunately, there were a handful of other guests in the kitchen, and I had to get rid of them first.
"Good evening, gentlemen. Hygiene inspection. Please leave the kitchen, everyone except the cook. Hurry, hurry!"
The unwanted listeners left with a quiet grumble – I really couldn’t take such little things into consideration.
Jürgen grinned at me expectantly.
"Greetings, Keeper of the Fleshpot!"
"Greetings to you too, O master of good tone!"
We once performed together as Roman senators in a school play – something we always remembered fondly.
"So, Mr. Sanitation Inspector, what can I do for you? And who's that next to you?"
"This is Tim, my brother."
"I'm glad. But why did you send everyone out? Surely it wasn't just to introduce me to Tim and reminisce?"
"You've seen through me. Listen, Katja told you something about Ralph earlier..."
"Don't remind me! That old chatterbox never knows when to shut up. If we told everyone everything we've experienced with her, we could write entire TV series about it."
"So, may I assume that you haven't spoken to anyone about it and won't speak to anyone about it?"
"Absolutely. What Ralph does is his own business, and Katja is the very last person who should be acting like a moralizer."
"Very good. Now that the business matters are settled, what can you offer us to eat?"
Jürgen hadn't done things by halves and had once again cleared out his parents' butcher shop. (By the way, Jürgen's parents' profession was quite obvious, but he was a kind soul and shrugged off the occasional taunts about his body shape with boundless generosity. As a friend, he was one of those rare specimens you could rely on 100 percent.) Three minutes later, Tim and I were sitting at the kitchen table, tackling two plates well filled with meat and sausage.
"Inspector, may I let the other customers back in now?"
"You may."

---

The rest of the party went along the usual lines: lots of music, dancing, more or less meaningful conversations, good food, and more or less substantial drinks. With the exception of two glasses of beer, I stuck to non-alcoholic beverages, and Tim was also very conservative in that regard. My intention of looking for attractive guys had largely faded into the background due to the events of the evening; I no longer had the real desire to do so anyway. The party had degenerated into hard work.
Sometime in the middle of the festivities, Katja pulled me into a small storage room. I had a vague feeling I knew exactly what was coming next.
"Danny, damn it, you should have told me!"
»Was?«
"That thing with Ralph and his... his friend! Where do I stand now?"
"What do you mean, how are you supposed to look now? Is it so bad that your brother likes boys? Surprise: me too! It hasn't bothered you before."
"It doesn't bother me that Ralph is gay. Well, not particularly. But this Christoph guy was supposed to stay with him, and now I have to figure out how to fix it. Do you happen to have his parents' phone number?"
"Man, Katja, I just met him! And what do you need his number for anyway?"
"Look, I have to call them and get them to come pick him up! There's no way he can stay here!"
"Nonsense. When you were fifteen, friends were already staying over at your house, with your parents' knowledge and approval."
"But that was something else!"
"So? Was that it? I don't see any difference. It's actually completely legal."
"And what about our parents? How am I supposed to explain this to them?"
"You don't have to explain anything to them. If anything, it's something Ralph has to do. As long as you don't spill the beans, your brother just has a friend visiting, and this isn't the first time. When they're ready, they'll talk to your parents on their own."
"And I'm supposed to just put on a brave face?"
"Well, first of all, I don't see any foul play, and secondly, how many times did Ralph have to watch your conquests suddenly join you at the breakfast table?"
"Fine, fine! Whatever you say! But I deny any responsibility. If anything gets out about this and my parents start a fuss, I'll tell them it's all your fault! And now I have to get back to taking care of my guests!"
Wow, she was really on edge. Whatever, I wasn't going to let her bad mood ruin my evening.
Around midnight, everyone began to leave, and half an hour later, only the volunteers from the cleanup crew remained. Katja and Ralph's parents generously allowed such parties from time to time, but demanded that by the time they arrived—which would be around 2:00 a.m.—quiet had been restored and the worst of the mess had been cleaned up. Lisa, Mike, and Jürgen took care of the kitchen and dishes; Thomas, who had spent the second half of the evening entertaining a girl from our parallel class, wrestled with the vacuum cleaner; a few others moved furniture. Tim and I dismantled the radio receivers, but Ralph and Christoph were nowhere to be seen.
The first bag was full, only the transmitter from Ralph's room was missing. I went upstairs and, remembering the afternoon's events, knocked softly on the door this time. No answer. I knocked a little louder – again to no avail. So I pushed the doorknob, half expecting it to be locked, but no, the door opened. The two missing men were lying peacefully asleep on the bed, fully clothed and cuddled up together. A cute sight. I decided not to dismantle the transmitter; it would have made too much noise and would certainly wake them both. Instead, I just turned off the hi-fi and then looked at the two boys with amusement again. Although I didn't want to disturb them, I decided to at least carefully take off their shoes. Once that was done, I took the blanket lying on the floor and spread it over them. Finally, I briefly stroked Ralph and Chris's hair, whispered "Sleep well," and then sneaked out of the room. Tim was waiting for me at the door. I grinned, put my index finger to my lips, and quietly closed the door behind me.
"Well, I think we should head home. I'll get the transmitter back tomorrow."
Tim looked at me penetratingly, his head tilted slightly.
»Danny?«
»And?«
"I think you're the best big brother I could ask for."
If this were a genuine romantic comedy, I'd be so moved I'd burst into tears right now. Ahem, to be honest, I was really close to it. But I just managed to swallow it all and, with a generous gesture, show Tim the way to the stairs. Downstairs, we said goodbye to those still present. I warned Katja to leave the boys upstairs in peace. Then we got dressed and walked through the dark, freezing night toward home.
How glad we both were when we reached the safe entrance of the well-heated house! Who had ordered this freezing cold? Ten minutes past 1:00, I locked the front door from the inside, and we peeled off our jackets, scarves, gloves, etc. Tim stared at the bag of equipment.
"Do we have to rebuild this now?"
"Nope, the transmitter is still missing anyway, and who knows when my mother will show up here again."
"Thank God."
"I assume you want to go to bed right away?"
"To be honest, I'd rather just jump in the shower again. My clothes and my hair stink of cigarette smoke, and I've been sweating quite a bit."
Tim had danced with different girls a few times, and there had indeed been an awful lot of smoking, as I could tell from a quick sniff test on my fleece shirt.
"Right. That's a really good idea. This time you can start, so you don't have to wait forever for me again."
We went upstairs, Tim disappeared into the bathroom, and after a short while, I heard the water running. I went to my closet and picked out some warm pajamas. At the same moment, the phone rang.
»Thom.«
"Hello Danny, it's me, Mom."
As if I didn't recognize her by her voice.
"Hello, Mom. So, how was your evening without us pests?"
"I almost said 'boring,' but of course that's not true. We really had a lovely few hours. Hopefully, you did too? Did everything go well?"
"Of course. Tim seemed to enjoy it too, and he made some new friends."
"Reinhardt will be relieved. Wait, he's standing next to me. He'd like to talk to Tim. Can you give him the phone?"
"I'm sorry, he's in the shower right now. Can I help?"
"Oh no, it doesn't have to be that way. He probably just wanted to hear from himself how things were going."
"Tell him not to worry. So, what time should we expect you tomorrow? Do you have anything special planned?"
"Knowing you, you'll probably want to sleep in, and Reinhardt says Tim doesn't mind a sleepy morning either, so we thought we'd pick you up around 11:30 and drive somewhere together for lunch. Agreed?"
"Clear."
Just at that moment the bathroom door opened and Tim came into the room wearing only a towel.
"Mom, wait a minute. Is Reinhardt still around?"
"Yes why?"
"Tim just got out of the bathroom, I'll give him the phone."
I handed Tim the phone, grabbed my pajamas, and retreated to the bathroom, so I couldn't hear what Tim was discussing with his father. When I left the bathroom ten minutes later, ready for bed, Tim was already in bed.
"So, everything okay with your old man?"
"Yes, everything's fine. He thanked me for the lovely evening. Or rather, for being able to spend it alone with Maria."
"Maybe we should get separate apartments, the two of us here, the two of you."
"Oh no. It's nice to be alone for a while, but in the long run, I'd definitely miss Dad."
"I feel the same way about Mom. Did he explain his plans for tomorrow…" I looked at my watch, "I meant for today?"
"He did. So we can sleep in a little."
"Yes, I have to do something first."
"What?"
"I still have to pick up the transmitter from Katja. I'll arrange to be there around half past eleven. That gives me plenty of time to pack up and still be back in time."
"Do you mind if I come along?"
"Not at all. But then we'll have to get up around 9:30 to have a quick breakfast."
"No problem. Will you set an alarm?"
"I'm working on it right now."
Once that was done, I reached for the light switch, turned off the lights, and then carefully walked to my bed. On the way there, I stopped by the window.
"Do you mind if I tilt the window slightly? I sleep better with fresh air. If it gets too cold, we can always close it again."
"No problem, I can't sleep with the window closed either. I always find it horrible when I can't open it during a storm or heavy rain."
He was right up my alley. When I reached my bed, I settled down, stretched out, and snuggled into the warm duvet.
"Good night, Tim."
"Good night, Danny. And thanks for persuading me to come along."
"It was a pleasure. So sleep well and fast."

---

"I think you're shit!"
Help! What a horrible noise! After a brief period of disorientation, perhaps not surprising for someone who had just been woken from a deep sleep, I turned off my clock radio as the source of all evil. If I had any say, the radio editor who had dug out that old tic-tac-toe game again would lose his job right now.
With a well-aimed blow, I silenced the source of the noise. A glance at the other bed showed that Tim had reacted similarly to me, sitting upright in bed with sleepy eyes.
"Did that have to happen, Danny?"
"Sorry. Next time I'll plug in headphones and sleep with them on."
"Hey, I didn't mean it like that!"
"I know. What do you think? Do you want to go through the bathroom first?"
"You just want me to be the first out of bed and close the window!"
"Exactly! Besides, you can turn up the heating at the same time. After all, what's a little brother for?"
Tim resigned himself to his fate, threw off his blanket, sat on the edge of the bed and slipped into his slippers.
"Argh! They're freezing!"
"Now you know why I sleep with socks on."
"Thank you for informing me in time."
"No problem."
He put on his socks, got up, closed the window, turned on the heater, grabbed his laundry, and went into the bathroom, pleased to see that it was already comfortably warm. For my part, I lay back again and reflected on the events of the previous day. It had certainly been one of the most interesting days of my life so far. The most important person, of course, was Tim, even though I was in a bit of a dilemma in that regard. On the one hand, I enjoyed my role as big brother and assumed (probably not without reason) that we would quickly become fast friends—if we weren't already. On the other hand, there was also my other side, the one that longed for a little more and different kind of attention. My grandmother always said, "There's a lid for every pot," but no matter how hard I'd searched, I hadn't found mine yet. And now fate has suddenly thrown someone at my feet who could have come straight from my imaginary dream boy catalog—and he's my future little brother, of all people! Tim's difficult-to-interpret signals in this regard didn't help me sort out my feelings either.
Then, of course, there was the discovery of Ralph and Christoph. I'd always known that, statistically speaking, there must be other boys around me who felt the same way I did, but I'd never imagined they'd be so close, and that I'd even get to discover them personally. The trouble is, the more I thought about them, the more I felt jealous of their shared happiness. Damn, shouldn't I have been first? After all, with my two years' advantage, I had the "elderly rights."
Tim's reappearance in the room startled me out of my musings. He was standing there in his blue thermal underwear, holding out the clothes he'd worn to the party.
"The stuff still smells of smoke."
"Throw the clothes in the laundry basket in the bathroom, my mother will wash them."
"You think so? I can take her home with me."
"Then your bag will stink afterwards, too."
"Right. Thanks."
Tim threw the items mentioned into my dirty laundry.
"That's it, the bathroom is all yours."
The time had come. There were no more excuses; I had to leave my nice, warm bed. Luckily, the room had warmed up somewhat by now. So I slung my feet over the edge of the bed, stood up, and marched to the bathroom with more energy than I would have thought possible after the previous night. After a quarter of an hour, I had finished everything, partially dressed, and returned to the room, where Tim was still sitting on his bed in the same position as before, reading one of my books.
"I thought I'd better not get fully dressed yet. We'll definitely want to have breakfast before we leave, right?"
"You're right. I practically walk around the house like this all the time in the winter. It's more practical than constantly changing clothes. So let's see what we can fill our stomachs with."
Once in the kitchen, we opted for warmed baguettes. While I fired up the oven and loaded it, I verbally maneuvered Tim through the depths of our kitchen cupboards so he could set the table. Then I went to the fridge and inspected the jam supplies.
"Tim, what would you like? Strawberry jam, plum jam, or Nutella?"
»Nutella.«
"A chocolate child. Sweet."
"There must be one of those here, otherwise you wouldn't have the stuff, would you?"
Oops, I gave myself away there. Let's quickly switch to another topic.
"What do you want to drink? Coffee, tea, cocoa?"
"Cocoa, if it's not too much work. I can't stand coffee."
Another commonality. I usually reach for tea, but I decided to cut it a little fuss and just go with Tim's choice.
"So, cocoa. No problem."
A few minutes later, we were sitting across from each other, chewing, and I immediately realized that one of my mother's worst fears was about to come true. She was getting another eater of my caliber in the house. I was already eating a lot, but Tim was practically inhaling his breakfast. I was starting to worry that I'd made a mistake with the amount I'd prepared.
"Uh, Tim, should I throw some more baguettes in the oven for you?"
He briefly paused his chewing, quickly glanced at the remaining supplies, and then shook his head. Phew, lucky me. I made a mental note to ask him in advance how much he intended to eat in the future.
I leaned back comfortably and watched Tim follow the baguettes with a large glass of hot cocoa in one gulp. When he put it down and looked at me, full and satisfied, the corners of my mouth twitched upward involuntarily.
"What is?"
"There's a mirror hanging over there. See for yourself."
Tim stood up, went to the mirror, looked in, and then licked the cocoa mustache from his upper lip.
"These are the very drops I was missing."
Well, that was it, now I had to burst out laughing. Laughing, we cleaned up the traces of our breakfast, then went back upstairs and got dressed. The thermometer read 6 degrees below zero, and thick snow clouds hung in the sky. Tim quickly packed his bag so he only had to grab it later, then we set off to Katja's. The walk there was uneventful, apart from the fact that Tim slipped on a snow-covered, icy puddle, grabbed onto me for support, and thus caused us both to fall. Cursing and rearranging our bones, we got up, brushing a lot of snow off our clothes.
"Look, I think you've given up on the whole jumping-in-every-puddle thing?"
"Sorry, it's just in my blood. But at least the water was solid, so it shouldn't have scared you too much. No danger of drowning in it. That's progress, isn't it?"
Ah yes. What was that about, is it okay for a big brother to put his cheeky little brother over his knee? On the other hand, I was glad that he had given up some of his reserve and shyness.
With our senses significantly heightened, we managed to complete the rest of the journey without further mishap. I rang the doorbell, and shortly thereafter, a tall, blonde woman opened the door.
"Danny, very nice, we were hoping to see you today. And that's your brother, we've heard about him too."
"Good morning, Ms. Maurer. Right, this is Tim. We're here to pick up the rest of my equipment. I didn't get around to it last night."
"No problem. Come in."
We entered the house and took off our shoes.
"Are you in a hurry, or do you have a few minutes? We'd like to discuss something with you."
I looked at the clock; we were well on time.
"No problem. If it doesn't take too long."
"Absolutely not. Come into the living room."
We followed her into the aforementioned room, where her husband was already seated. After a general greeting, they escorted us into two armchairs. A brief silence, then Mrs. Maurer spoke again.
"Danny, do you have any idea what we found last night when we quickly checked Ralph's room to see if everything was okay?"
Oh dear, I actually had a pretty good idea. The Maurers immediately recognized the look of shock on my face, and theirs broke into a smile.
"So you know what I'm talking about. Listen, we just invited you in here to thank you. The boys told us earlier what you did for them, and Katja also reported, a little indignantly, how you took the responsibility away from her."
"So you don't have a problem with it?"
"But no way!" The laugh lines on Mr. Maurer's face sprang into action. "We've had a suspicion for a few days. We drove past the cinema, and guess who was standing in the box office line holding hands. Very conspicuously yet unobtrusively, of course. However, we wanted to give them the time and opportunity to decide for themselves when they wanted to tell us something."
"So you didn't mention to her today about last night's somewhat unusual sleeping arrangement?"
"No, really not. After seeing the two of them clinging to each other, we immediately decided not to say a word about it. Well, they came clean about it at breakfast today."
I was relieved. It certainly seemed as if everything was on its way to a happy ending for Ralph and Christoph.
"By the way, they couldn't remember taking off their shoes or covering themselves. Do you have any idea who intervened?"
I smiled at Ralph's parents and at the same time wondered how such a bitch like Katja could have grown up under their care.
"When I went to get the transmitter, I found roughly the same scene as you did last night. It looked so peaceful that I couldn't bring myself to disturb them, so I only did what I was sure wouldn't wake them, and then I quietly left."
"That was really nice of you, we think you helped the boys immensely. We're so glad you stumbled upon them and not Katja. She's a little... well, she's not particularly sensitive sometimes."
Not particularly sensitive! This description easily qualified for the understatement of the century award. Even using her name and the word "sensitive" in the same sentence blatantly violated the new spelling rules.
"So, like I said, we wanted to thank you. Um, I hope I'm not being too offensive, but I'm really interested to know if you... well, if you've found a boyfriend yet. He should consider himself very lucky."
"Well, I'm still single. Do you happen to have another son Katja's age and with Ralph's looks and personality?"
The two laughed, and Mrs. Maurer shook her head regretfully.
"We're really sorry, we don't. Otherwise, you would be very welcome as our son-in-law."
"It's a shame. But there's nothing we can do about it." I looked at my watch. "Now Tim and I should get started on the tech stuff. Our parents are picking us up for lunch at 11:30."
"Oh, go ahead, we don't want to keep you unnecessarily. But... uh... maybe you should knock when you get upstairs."
I had learned that lesson. We stood up, and shortly thereafter, we were standing in front of the famous bedroom door. I knocked, and we were immediately invited in. Ralph and Christoph were sitting on the bed, holding PlayStation controllers. They had paused their game when I knocked, and now they looked at us with wide eyes, blushing a little again. Then a mischievous smile broke out on their faces.
"Well, you two, did you sleep well?"
I just couldn't resist doing that.
»Yes.«
Oh, they even answered in stereo! Ah, love must be beautiful!
"Danny, we need to..."
"Stop! Not another word! My capacity for expressions of gratitude is pretty much exhausted."
"Who tells you we wanted to say thank you?"
That was Chris, all alone this time. And Ralph felt compelled to continue.
"We were actually going to complain that you simply turned off the music last night. Turning it down would have been perfectly sufficient."
"Ingratitude is the world's reward. It shouldn't happen again. Now, while I dismantle the transmitter, you can show Tim your toys." I didn't know if he was interested, but I suddenly didn't have the energy to continue talking to this content, happy couple. It reminded me too much of what I was missing.
Five minutes later, everything was safely stowed in the bag we'd brought with us. We said goodbye to the two young lovers, went downstairs, checked in with Ralph's parents, and shortly after, we were back at my house. We spent the next fifteen minutes reinstalling the technology where it belonged, and we had barely finished that when the horn honked outside the front door. We slipped on our shoes and jackets, left and locked the house, and climbed into Tim's father's waiting Chrysler.
The reunion between Reinhardt and his son was tremendous, and the one between my mother and me... well, it was definitely there. The two "oldies" immediately grilled us about the previous evening (as true gentlemen, we left the subject of Ralph and Christoph out of the equation) and were very pleased to learn that we had actually "gotten along" quite well. You could almost hear a relay click in their brains, triggering the "switch to the next family reunification stage." We'd barely arrived at the restaurant (another Italian restaurant, by the way; the Bergners seemed to have a thing for it—not that I'm complaining), my mother began laying out the plans for the further integration of the families in front of Tim and me.
"Guys, we thought it would be nice if we all went somewhere together for Christmas and New Year. Like a real family."
Tim jumped on it immediately.
"Great. Off to the Alps, skiing!"
I slumped in my chair, a pained expression on my face. It was already cold enough here. And I really couldn't stand those treacherous, slippery wooden boards. I could already picture myself spending the holidays in the hospital with broken legs. Reinhardt seemed to have noticed my skepticism.
"Let's see. We'll come up with something we all like. I already have an idea." His words were accompanied by a mysterious smile.
That ended the topic, and soon the food was on the table. My mother had the pleasure of watching Tim eat a normal, non-competitive meal for the first time. As Tim prepared a cartwheel-sized pizza, my mother's face grew long and long. She cast a dubious glance first at Tim's plate, then at her usual salad bowl, and then shook her head in resignation.
"Tell me, Reinhardt, how come those boys can eat as much as they want without anyone noticing! I count every single calorie and still don't lose weight. Tim, where do you eat all that?"
She had asked me this question often enough, and now she received an answer from my little brother that she had also heard from me.
"I don't know. Hollow legs?"
If he had any, they were now being filled at a tremendous pace, and before my mother had even finished half her salad, Tim's plate was empty. Mine, too, by the way. All in all, there were four fairly satisfied people at the table.
During dinner, we talked about what we could do with the rest of the day. Unfortunately, our plans (which ranged from the Christmas market to the sauna) were ruined by a severe headache. It hit me out of the blue, and I hadn't even finished the glass of wine our old folks had bought Tim and me to celebrate. Naturally, my mother was the first to notice my pain-contorted face.
"Danny, what's wrong, you suddenly look so pale."
"Nothing serious, I just suddenly have a terrible headache."
My mother immediately switched to "poor-my-boy" mode, and ten minutes later we were in the car heading home. By the time we got there, I felt like a hundred dwarves were playing bowling inside my head. And the brothers always hit the bullseye! I was really surprised because I couldn't explain it. I definitely didn't have a hangover, and headaches were pretty unheard of anyway. Anyway, when I got home, my mother immediately put me to bed, gave me two painkillers, and then wanted to send Reinhardt and Tim away.
"I'm sorry, but you can see I have to take care of Danny."
I really couldn't allow that to happen. It was enough that I was incapacitated; the other three didn't need to suffer as well. I managed to convince my mother that her presence wasn't necessary and that I could suffer quite well on my own. After she asked half a dozen times whether she could really leave me alone, Reinhardt pulled her out of my room by the arm. All three of them wished me a speedy recovery and then set off for the Christmas market. I lay back in bed and tried to find a position for my head that made the pain somewhat bearable.
Apparently the pills had actually worked, because at some point I fell asleep, and when I woke up, it was already dark outside the window. The headache was gone, replaced by a dull feeling, which, while not pleasant, was considerably easier to bear. I carefully sat up, and when I didn't feel any particularly negative reactions from my body, I decided to see if I still had the house to myself.
Of course I hadn't. It was already almost seven, and my mother had long since returned, pottering around in the kitchen—extra quietly so as not to disturb me. I walked to the kitchen table and sat down on a chair with a sigh.
"Danny, there you are. How are you? Is the pain gone?"
"It's getting better. At least it doesn't hurt anymore."
"Do you have any idea what happened to you? Did you perhaps drink too much yesterday?"
"Mom, I just drank two beers! If that had been too much, I would have caught it early and not waited until we were comfortably having lunch. So, on a different topic, how was your afternoon?"
"Really nice. We wandered from stall to stall for three hours, quite leisurely. We snacked everywhere: waffles, roasted almonds, candied apples, cotton candy, mulled wine, etc. I'm already dreading getting on the scales tomorrow morning."
"So, did you at least bring me something?"
My mother smiled at me and took a large paper bag out of the kitchen cupboard.
"Here, I know exactly what you're getting at."
I was seen through. A maxi bag of roasted almonds, my teeth already grinding in barely contained anticipation.
"Agreed?"
"Indeed. Thank you."
"Oh, I just remembered. Reinhardt also sent you something."
She disappeared for a brief moment and then reappeared with something huge and fluffy in her hands. It took me a while to figure out exactly what it was, then it dawned on me. A giant stuffed dog stared at me with button eyes the size of five-mark coins.
"My God, where did you get that from!"
"Reinhardt drew 'Free Choice' twice at a lottery booth, and he asked me what I could give you to enjoy. Since you like dogs, I suggested this little animal. Tim got a bear at least as big. You should have seen the two of them dragging those creatures across the market to the car; they get pretty heavy after a while!"
I could vividly imagine that. According to the unofficial teenage code, I was way too old for stuffed animals by now, but I was still happy about the gesture. Besides, my room was big enough – though I couldn't quite imagine where Tim would be with his bear in his small room. In any case, I decided to thank his father profusely at the next opportunity.
"So, my boy, how are things? Are you hungry for dinner?"
I listened to myself. I didn't really have a solid opinion on the matter. But before I woke up in the middle of the night with a growling stomach, I finally let myself be persuaded to eat a few slices of toast. Afterward, I said goodbye for the night and went to bed that Sunday at a time that, under normal circumstances, I would have heroically protested against even at the tender age of ten. The giant stuffed dog found its sleeping place on Thomas/Tim's bed.

---

Monday. I hate Mondays. Or at least those that don't fall on a holiday or during the school holidays. I agreed with the Boomtown Rats: "I wanna shoot the whole day down." But it was no use; there were still a few days to go until the Christmas holidays.
The pain dwarfs in my head had left me in peace, although I felt a bit like my head was wrapped in cotton wool. I was awake, but I wasn't really present. Purely instinctively, I worked through the morning checklist, ate a breakfast that wouldn't normally have been enough to fill a cavity, and then, under my mother's worried gaze, made my way to the building euphemistically named "Gymnasium" – instead of the much more truthfully titled "Dungeon."
As usual, I met up with Thomas and a few others. Most of them had also been at the party and weren't showing any of the symptoms I was suffering from—so food poisoning was probably out of the question. It quickly became apparent that I wasn't good company that day, and some people were seriously concerned about my unnatural pallor. But whatever, I had to go through with it.
The first two hours were relatively bearable; they passed me by without me noticing much of it—a blessing, actually. Later, my headache from the day before returned, and by the end of the third hour, I was so nauseous that only a sprint to the bathroom could prevent a more serious disaster. I—pardon the pun—was vomiting my guts out and was about to collapse in the cubicle. Luckily, Thomas had followed me unnoticed and stepped in to help, holding me upright.
"Man, Danny, what are you doing!"
I would have liked to know that, too. After I recovered a bit, with Thomas's help, I made my way back to the classroom, where recess had already begun. The next lesson was history, and luckily our teacher (unfortunately, an older year) was already there. He looked at Thomas and me, let us briefly explain what had happened, and then marched straight to the office, instructing Thomas to slowly escort me there as well.
I didn't really follow what happened next. They must have called my mother, and I only regained some sense of self-awareness in our family doctor's office. There, I had to undergo the usual procedures; among other things, the doctor discovered that I had a fever of almost 100 degrees. The kegels were pounding in my head again, and I generally felt something like what I had just vomited up in the toilet.
My mother, of course, had insisted on being present for the examination and was now genuinely worried. I had hinted right at the beginning that I had already escaped the Grim Reaper once, and since then we'd lived in constant fear that the blood cancer might return. My current symptoms weren't particularly reassuring. Given my medical history, the doctor naturally took her time. She tapped here, listened there, poked there. At the end, she gave us an encouraging smile.
"Young man, I don't think you need to worry too much. I'll have another blood test done, but I think you've caught the flu, which is currently going around here. Haven't you been vaccinated?"
Me?!? I should voluntarily subject myself to a needle? Never! I shook my head vigorously – and immediately regretted it bitterly. The pain dwarves stopped the bowling and instead used several giant church bells.
"Which news do you want to hear first, the good news or the bad news?"
"The bad one."
"You'll feel really dirty for a few days."
Great, I couldn't imagine anything nicer.
"And what's the good news?"
"You won't have to go to school this year."
Well, that was something, at least. The doctor drew some blood, wrote some prescriptions, and then we headed home, stopping briefly at the pharmacy. Once there, I immediately went to bed.
Shortly afterwards, my mother appeared with various medications. I'd be seriously interested to know who decided that effective medications had to taste awful! But that wasn't the worst of it; that was yet to come. The brave pill expert had actually prescribed me suppositories for my headache! Errr! Having someone fondle my backside was definitely not a pleasant thought, at least not when it was my own mother. But I endured that heroically, then my mother left the room, leaving the door ajar, and after the headache had subsided somewhat, I drifted off into a restless sleep.
When I woke up again, my bedclothes were soaked with sweat, and my watch insisted it was already just after three in the afternoon. The headache had become a somewhat bearable dull throbbing, but my throat felt dry, so I gathered all my strength and called for my mother. I doubted my hoarse croak had reached her, but shortly afterward, she came storming up the stairs and into my room.
"How are you, Danny? Is everything okay?"
"I'm feeling better. I need something to drink."
"I'll bring you some tea right away; you have to take your medication again anyway. Show me your forehead. Hmm. Not quite as hot anymore, but we'll take a proper reading. My God, you're soaking wet! And so is your bedding. Listen, I'll give you a clean pair of pajamas, put them on, and then lie down in the other bed."
So it was done, and five minutes later, I felt somewhat more comfortable in dry surroundings. With a defiance of death, I swallowed the disgusting medicine, and the tea offered with it had a very pleasant effect on my throat. Then my mother came with the thermometer, and I resigned myself to my fate. She didn't believe in taking measurements in the armpit, insisting on the more traditional method. I don't think I need to go into that any further here. In any case, I had just endured the invasion of my posterior region and was patiently waiting for the results when the doorbell rang.
"Stay lying down, I'll go and see who that is."
As if I were able to run away.
Shortly afterward, she was back in the room, but she was anything but alone. Behind her, Reinhardt and Tim pushed through the door and stared in my direction. It took me a moment to understand why they were staring so much, then I pulled the covers over my exposed bottom with the thermometer sticking out of it as quickly as I could. Thanks so much, Mom. She truly had a rare talent for maneuvering me into the most embarrassing situations. At that moment, she obviously realized what she'd done again.
"Oh God, sorry Danny, I hadn't thought of that."
Reinhardt smiled at me briefly and then grabbed his son.
"Come on, Tim, let's wait outside for a minute. Let us know when we can come back in."
The two left the room, my mother quickly finished what she had so shamefully forgotten and apologized to me again in a whisper. Well, I've never been able to stay mad at her for long, and this was no exception.
"All right. So, what do you think, can you fry eggs on me yet?"
"Not anymore. 38.9 – that sounds a little better. Now, get dressed again and cover yourself so I can let your visitors in."
I'd barely finished that when she called Tim and his father back into the room. How did they know about my condition, or did they just drop by? I didn't need to ask them that question, because Reinhardt immediately answered it voluntarily.
"Hi Danny, sorry to show up like this, but when Maria called me and told me what was going on, we thought you might appreciate a little visit. Now, tell me, what are you doing?"
I'd heard that last sentence before today. From Thomas, if I remembered correctly. Somehow, this question from a healthy person to a sick person seemed to be ingrained in human DNA. Cut your finger – "What are you doing?" Break a leg – "What are you doing?" Catch the flu – "What are you doing?" Impregnate the neighbor's daughter – "What are you doing?" Well, at least I'd probably never have to worry about the latter situation. Everything in life has its good side.
My mother kindly took on the task of telling them what had happened since our separation yesterday afternoon. I was able to rest my voice and somewhat enjoyed the concerned attention the other three were giving me. When my mother finished, I received more looks full of sympathy. Reinhardt shook his head sadly.
"I'm really sorry, Danny, and I hope you feel better soon. Luckily, there's still a little time until Christmas, otherwise I'd have to…"
He stopped mid-sentence. I don't like that kind of thing at all, first arousing curiosity and then leaving you hanging. The other two felt the same way, and my mother slipped into her role as chief inquisitor. A role, by the way, that she had practically perfected.
"What else would you have to do?"
Reinhardt hesitated a bit, but then gave in.
"Okay, it's not exactly the most appropriate moment, but whatever. Maybe Danny will take this as an incentive to improve as quickly as possible. I booked a trip to Florida for the holidays for the four of us this morning. I hope you don't mind me deciding this all on my own, but it should be a surprise."
So he had pulled off the surprise! I decided to voluntarily take the most disgusting medications without complaint and to undergo the most humiliating treatments in order to be fit again in time. I only had to look at Mom and Tim's faces and I could imagine how surprised and delighted I must look. It didn't seem as if anyone wanted to complain to Reinhardt about his solo efforts.
The next few minutes passed in animated chatter about how excited everyone was about the idea. Well, the others chattered, and I just listened. Tim's eyes shone with joy, and he could hardly sit still. Suddenly, my mother, utterly shocked, put her hands over her face.
"My God, I completely forgot that I have to go to Paris for five days tomorrow!"
Oops, she was just like me! I hadn't even dreamed that she was invited to an international architects' conference. She was even supposed to give a lecture! A great honor, and one she'd never received before. After a brief discussion, we decided that she could easily leave me alone for the time being—although, given my current condition, the situation had changed drastically.
"I'll call right away and cancel."
Great, now I was feeling guilty because she had to miss out on something she'd been looking forward to for weeks. It was written all over her face how sad she was, and when she tried to reach for my phone, Reinhardt stopped her.
"Wait a minute, Maria. Let's see if there's a better solution. I know this all came very suddenly, and it would certainly have been nicer to be able to discuss everything more calmly, but that can't be changed now. How about Danny coming with us and staying with us while you're in France? He'd only be alone for an hour or two at most; the rest of the time, either Tim or I would be with him."
Reinhardt earned his living as a freelance foreign language translator, primarily for specialist books. He was obviously very successful, and—even more importantly for this particular case—he worked from home. Hope began to grow in my mother's eyes. Nevertheless, she still had her doubts.
"I don't know, that's asking a lot of you. He has to see his doctor again on Thursday."
"That's no problem, I can organize my working hours the way I need them. We don't have a guest room, but Tim is certainly willing to sleep on the couch in the living room for a few days."
Although the man immediately nodded in agreement, I resolved not to chase him out of his cozy room under any circumstances. But I wouldn't burden my mother with that now; there would be plenty of time to sort it out later.
"I still don't feel comfortable with the idea. I mean, Danny is sick and suffering, and I'm having fun in Paris."
"Spit from the Eiffel Tower for me once and you will be forgiven."
General laughter.
"You see, Maria, he's joking again. You'll see, when you get back he'll be back on his feet. You can talk on the phone every day."
He had done it, my mother had been convinced.
"Okay. I don't know how I'll ever thank you for this, but if all three of you agree, let's do it."
"So that settles everything. When does your flight leave?"
"7:55 a.m."
"Hmm. Then maybe Danny should move today. It'll be very tight tomorrow morning."
We had to agree with him. The idea of having to get out of bed at five or so didn't seem particularly appealing to me. So we agreed that Reinhardt and Tim would quickly drive home and get everything ready, while Mom would pack everything I needed, and I could get dressed in peace. And that's exactly how it went.
Then, in the middle of our preparations, the medicine woman called with the relieving results of my blood tests. All the relevant values were within the ideal range, and there was no indication of a recurrence of the leukemia. After hearing this, my mother had to sit down for ten minutes and cry happily. I, too, immediately felt several degrees better. Anyone who has ever seen the inside of a cancer ward can certainly relate.
While we were waiting for our private taxi, Thomas called and wanted to know how I was doing. Since my throat was more or less back to normal, I quickly filled him in on what had happened and what would happen, gave him the Bergners' phone number, and he promised to keep me updated, like school would tell me. I would also bring my PowerBook and modem with me, so I could check my emails regularly whenever I wanted. If I were allowed to use the Bergners' phone line for that purpose.
Reinhardt picked us up around six. I was even more heavily wrapped up than usual for the few steps to the car and from the car to the Bergners' front door, and that's saying something for me. I reckon a sumo wrestler could have easily hidden behind me in this outfit, with his arms outstretched and Prince Charles, complete with glider ears, on his shoulders. Luckily, Reinhardt's car offered more space than the SLK my mother had bought herself for her last birthday. The Stratus was well heated, so I managed the drive to my temporary home well, despite a traffic jam. Shortly before seven, I entered the room that would be my quarters for the next few days. Reinhardt pointed to Tim's lounger, which had already been made up as a bed.
"Make yourself comfortable, Danny. We'll give you a few minutes to undress in peace. If anything happens, just call."
Before I could begin these tasks, my mother said goodbye to me, half in tears. She was suddenly in a bit of a hurry, which was no surprise, since she still had a lot to prepare for her big trip at home. She promised to call every day, wished me a speedy recovery, and swore me to behave myself. After I promised her that, she left with a final wave.
Now I could change in peace. I grabbed the pajamas I had found at the top of my travel bag, and five minutes later, my body had returned to its normal shape, having lost several layers of clothing. I tested the comfort of the lounger, found it extremely acceptable, and lay back comfortably on the soft cushions. Shortly afterwards, there was a knock at the door, and at my invitation, Tim strolled into the room.
"Well, are you lying comfortably?"
"Thank you, excellent. But we should talk about a few things. First of all, this is your room, so save yourself the knocking. After your surprise appearance earlier, there's very little of me you haven't seen yet."
Tim giggled quietly to himself.
"And secondly, I don't feel entirely comfortable with the idea of stealing your room. I think it would be better if I slept in the living room with you. You have to go to school and need a good night's sleep. Besides, all your stuff is in this room."
"Out of the question! You're sleeping here, you need a quiet place. The living room is completely unsuitable because it faces the main street, and it's always pretty loud there. If I need something from the room, I'll just get it. I plan on keeping you company more often anyway—if I don't annoy you."
"Tim, you're definitely never going to get on my nerves. I just feel a little bad about the whole thing. I'm already a burden to you, and then I banish you from your most personal domain."
"Well, unfortunately I don't have two beds. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Well, we still have a folding bed. I always sleep on it when my cousin comes to visit."
"Why didn't you say so? I'll sleep on the thing, and you can have your bed to yourself."
"I thought you might want a little privacy."
"Uh, I'm not in the mood for that at all right now. To be honest, I'd rather not have to brood here all alone. I'd just get stupid ideas and end up bored to death."
"Are you well enough to tolerate my company?"
I listened to myself. The medication was working. I still felt a bit nauseous, and I was sure I couldn't perform any major feats of strength at the moment, but overall, I felt significantly better than I had that morning. My head felt as if it were padded with cotton wool, so crazy bowlers and bell ringers no longer had such an easy time with me.
"Don't worry. If I'm really feeling down and want to suffer all alone, I'll let you know in time."
"Okay. I'll tell Dad we'll both live here. But only on one condition: you stay in bed, I'll take the folding bed. And there's no discussion about that!"
Oh my God, that little one could get really authoritarian! But hey, better a half victory than none at all. I decided not to make a fuss about it, and so it happened that half an hour later, half of the remaining space in the room was taken up by the aforementioned folding bed. Luckily, as the name suggests, this could be folded up during the day and stored away to save space.
Reinhardt asked us again if we were really sure about this arrangement, but when we both said yes, he was obviously very pleased with it. Incidentally, unlike me, both Bergners had heroically given themselves the flu shot, so they were in no danger from me.
Time flew by, and suddenly it was nine o'clock in the evening. In the meantime, Tim had brought me a light supper in bed, and Reinhardt brought my pills and juice. I got a bit of a shock when he announced it was time to take my temperature, but when Tim's father saw my slightly shocked expression, he just grinned and showed me the thermometer he intended to use. It was one of those new things that takes your temperature in your ear, and I was extremely relieved. The technological marvel showed 38.5. After this somewhat reassuring measurement, I answered Reinhardt's question about whether I needed anything else in the negative. He wished me good night and a speedy recovery, left the room, and I decided to try to go to sleep. Tim agreed with his father's wishes and said he would watch a little more TV in the living room. I actually wanted to tell him he could do it here, but somehow I suddenly lacked the strength, and my eyes began to close. I must have been sleeping pretty soundly, because I didn't notice Tim coming back into the room and stretching out on the folding bed. I was probably too preoccupied with my rather confused fever dreams.

---

I woke up around five in the morning, mainly because the painkillers had stopped working. Once again, I felt like my head was about to explode, but I didn't really know what to do about it. I practically wished my mother would come along with the box of suppositories, but as tempting as the thought was, I could never bring myself to ask Tim or even Reinhardt to help me with that. So I would just have to bravely endure the pain.
For the next hour and a half, I suffered agony, and when Tim finally got up, it took all my acting talent to hide my condition from him. I pretended to be still asleep and watched through tiny slits of my eyes as he grabbed a few things and then left the room, obviously on his way to the bathroom. I couldn't stand it anymore; I decided to administer the painkiller myself. With fidgety fingers, I ripped open the packaging and grabbed the slightly slippery thing, then took it to its destination. The latter was easier said than done, because this destination was characterized by being incredibly difficult to see. After two or three failed attempts with a trembling hand, I finally hit the jackpot. Now I could only hope that the effect would kick in as quickly as the day before.
I was lucky; after just a few minutes, the pain subsided. I collapsed back into the duvet with relief, just as Tim re-entered the room. Today, his thermal underwear was bright red, and when he saw I was awake, he gave me a beaming smile.
"Danny, you're awake! How are you, did you sleep well?"
"Thanks, I'm okay. Good morning. Ready to face the cruel reality of school?"
Tim laughed.
"It's not that cruel. At least not for me."
"Oh yeah? How are you doing in school?"
"You really don't want to know."
"Oh yes, I want that!"
"Do you promise not to laugh at me?"
"Sure. I promised you that on our first afternoon together, remember?"
"Right. Okay. A."
WHAT? Oh God, I was in for a real bummer! If my mother found out, she'd always tell me how good my little brother was at school and that I should take him as an example. And yet I'd always been happy with my grade point average—which was always between 1.8 and 2.2.
"That's not good at all, Tim, not at all. You're ruining the standards."
"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to intentionally mess up work because of this."
"Huh, I guess I'll just have to live with it."
"Exactly."
Tim walked past me to gather his school supplies at his desk, and his eyes fell on the empty suppository wrapper. Damn, why hadn't I thought to throw that away? Curiously, he picked it up and examined it.
"Cool, the doctor prescribed those things for me a few months ago. They're so strong that they actually made me a little high. But the pain was gone in an instant."
Das konnte ich bestätigen, meine Kopfschmerzen hatten die Schlacht für den Moment auch verloren.
»Hast du dir das Ding selbst verpaßt?«
I nodded.
"And you waited until I was in the bathroom?"
I nodded again.
"How long have you been in pain?"
"For an hour or two."
"Idiot. All you had to do was wake me up and I would have helped you."
"Hey, maybe I'm embarrassed in front of you!"
"Uh, in case you've forgotten: I'm your brother, no reason to be embarrassed in front of me. Besides, I already had the chance to admire this side of you yesterday. And even if you didn't want my help, at least you didn't have to wait for me to be gone to help yourself."
Hey, roles reversed? Just three days ago, I was trying to tell him that we were siblings and could trust each other with everything. Okay, I'll plead extenuating circumstances. My mind was just a bit clouded due to illness.
"All right, I got it. No more false shame, especially not in emergencies."
"I certainly hope so. Okay, I have to get dressed; I have to leave in ten minutes. Dad and I already had breakfast. Should I tell him to make you something when I leave?"
"No, thanks. I don't feel like eating yet."
My mother would put a red dot on the calendar for that statement.
"Okay, whatever you say. But don't be afraid to call him if you need anything; I'll leave the door ajar."
During our conversation, he slipped into his shirt and trousers, then grabbed his school bag and walked to the door.
"Well then, get some rest. And get better. Bye."
"Have fun. See you this afternoon."
And he disappeared, leaving the door ajar as promised. Well, somehow it was quite nice to be the center of attention for a change and be mothered by everyone. However, the pain and other symptoms came at a high price.
I managed to fall asleep again, only to be awakened by a hand stroking my hair. I forced my eyes open and looked into the smiling face of Tim's father.
"Good morning, you troubled child. How are you today?"
"Good morning. I'm feeling better now, but I had a headache again this morning."
"Did you take anything for it?"
"Yes, and it worked."
"Well, that's good then. Now, let me quickly take your temperature."
The miracle thermometer was used again and showed 37.9 at the end of the measurement. Well, it could be better.
"Are you hungry?"
Hmm. Interesting question. I think so.
»Yes.«
"How about a warm pudding? Tea with that? You have to take your medication anyway."
»Okay.«
"Good. I'll be back in a quarter of an hour, I hope you can hold out that long. By the way, best regards from your mother, she called from the airport."
I glanced at my watch; it was already 9:30. So she was probably close to Paris by now. Well, she deserved it, she'd worked so hard for this.
In the meantime, Reinhardt had disappeared from the room, and I was wondering where and how I should best eat. The best thing would probably be to join him in the kitchen. I sat up and dangled my feet over the edge of the bed to test it. No negative reaction. So I slipped into my slippers and got up slowly and carefully. I was a little dazed, but not so bad that I couldn't have made it. I needed to go to the bathroom first anyway. Although I had no idea where to find it. So I shuffled into the kitchen, where the owner looked up in surprise from his errands when he saw me standing in the doorway.
"Reinhardt, could you please tell me where the toilet is?"
"The last door on the left, at the end of the corridor. Tell me, are you sure you can make it there alone?"
"I think so. But if you hear a loud crash, please come and take a look."
"Don't joke about it, young man! I promised Maria I'd take good care of you. And I intend to keep that promise!"
"All right. But I can really do it, don't worry."
"Well done."
With slow steps, I made my way to the door, and sure enough, behind it lay a spacious bathroom. I did what I'd come here to do, washed my hands, and got the fright of my life. When I looked in the mirror, a terrifying figure stared back at me. My eyes were dark sockets, and to call my complexion chalky white would have been an understatement. And that after only a day and a half! I tore my eyes away from the sight and made my way back to the kitchen. There, Reinhardt was just about to put my breakfast on a tray and take it to Tim's room. I managed to convince him that I'd rather eat in the kitchen.
»Na gut, wo du eh schon hier bist. Setz dich.«
I sat down in the seating area and looked at the pudding plate in front of me with mixed feelings. On the one hand, I felt distinctly hungry, but on the other, the sight of the food made me feel a little nauseous again. What the heck. I wasn't in the mood to starve, and the only thing I could do was get it out again. Spoonful by spoonful, I shovelled the chocolate pudding into my mouth, sipping hot tea every now and then. It wasn't long before the dishes were empty, and my morning ration of pills had also found its way into my stomach. As I leaned back, I could see Reinhardt's satisfied expression.
"So, the world looks much better again, doesn't it?"
"Right, I needed something to eat. Thanks. Oh, by the way, could you do me a favor?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"If only you could cover all the mirrors in the house, the sight of my face almost made me fall over."
"Well, you certainly don't seem to have lost your sense of humor."
"This is pure self-defense, otherwise I wouldn't be able to stand all this crap."
"How about you, are you going back to bed?"
"Right away. I just want to sit for a while. I've been lying down for most of the last 24 hours."
"I can understand that. But it's not particularly comfortable here. How about we go into the living room? You can sit comfortably on the couch there, and if it gets too much for you, you can just lie down. I'd like to discuss something with you anyway, of course, only if it doesn't get too much for you."
Now he'd piqued my curiosity. I was feeling relatively well at the moment, and I didn't feel like being bored alone in Tim's room anyway.
»Okay.«
"Go ahead, you know where it is. I'll just put the dishes in the dishwasher and then follow."
So I slowly crept into the living room and lounged cross-legged on the aforementioned couch. A quick glance around, I could see that this was clearly the home of a tech geek. A TV with a monster picture tube, plus a stereo system from a brand whose nameplate alone cost a three-digit sum. Tim's father was obviously successful not only professionally but also financially. No wonder he could afford to jet off to Florida with four people.
While I was still pondering these things, Reinhardt came into the room, bringing a quilt. He brought it to me and placed it around my shoulders.
"Here, it's not quite as warm as the kitchen. We don't want to take any more risks."
Anyone who brought me a warm blanket automatically had a big thumbs-up in my eyes. I pulled it tightly around my body and snuggled up in it. Reinhardt sat down in an armchair opposite me and just stared at me for a while. Then he got down to business.
"So, Danny, first of all: if it's too much for you, just say so, and we'll postpone it. There's really no rush."
"All right, I'll let you know in time before I fall off my chair."
He laughed.
"Good. But seriously. Danny, I love your mother."
I had already noticed that too.
"And I like you too, a lot."
That sounded really encouraging.
"And I know Tim feels the same way."
It got better and better.
"Danny, Maria, and I would like to all move in together, become a real family. But that's not something we two oldies can decide on our own; you two boys have at least as much say in the matter. I'd like to know what you think about it, whether you'd be comfortable with this idea, and I'd like to hear your honest opinion. I don't think this will come as much of a surprise to you."
True. I'd been expecting a suggestion like this for quite some time. Okay. He wanted the brutal truth? He was going to get it.
"Reinhardt, first you must know that the most important thing to me is that my mother is happy. She's had to endure a lot, first my illness, then the death of my father. If it makes her happy, I'd also put up with a monster of a stepfather and an annoying little brother."
A look of disbelief and shock spread across Reinhardt's face. He started to say something, but I interrupted him.
"Wait, I'm not done yet! I said I could handle this too. But I'm really glad I don't have to handle this, but instead get people like you and Tim."
Relief showed on his face.
"Well, I have to tell you one thing: I'll have to get used to your sense of humor."
"Don't worry, it'll be okay."
"So you agree?"
"You have my blessing. But what about Tim?"
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that! He really likes Maria; she probably gives him what he's been missing since his mother disappeared. I think I made a reasonably good father, but I could never replace his mother. Well, and as for you…"
I was literally hanging on his every word.
"...he absolutely admires you. I have no idea how you managed it in such a short time, but when he talks about you, his eyes sparkle. He looks up to you, and unless you do something completely stupid, you've gained in him not only a little brother but also your biggest fan."
My God, he really didn't need to put me on such a pedestal. On the other hand, I was happy that Tim had such a high opinion of me.
"I hope this clears up any remaining doubts you might have. We'd like to move in together early next year. At first, we were thinking about the period between Christmas and New Year, but then we decided we'd rather enjoy those days together somewhere."
"It shouldn't be my fault. Just let me know the exact date in advance so I can quickly sprain my ankle and not have to help with the hauling."
"Oh no, you won't get away that easily! Self-mutilation is severely punished."
Now we were both laughing, and the slight tension that had hovered over us at the beginning of the conversation had completely vanished. However, one important question hadn't been brought up yet. I had to change that.
"Now please tell me where we'll be living together. Here or at our place?"
"As much as I like it here, it would probably be a bit too cramped for four people. We need a living room, a bedroom, a large study, and, depending on what you—Tim and you—decide, one or two children's rooms. Please excuse the term "children's rooms."
"So you two are moving in with us."
It was actually logical; we had more than enough space. When my parents planned and built the house, they factored in further additions to the family. It was never planned for me to remain an only child, and both my father and mother firmly believed in the idea of a multi-generational home. There was enough space to accommodate my family later on, including two or three children – well, back then, no one suspected that little Danny, who had been cornered at kindergarten for looking up a girl's skirt, would later move on to the other side. So, what about the children's rooms?
"I assume Tim wants his own room, right?"
"Not really. He said he'd be happy to share a room with you, but only if that's okay with you."
Was I okay with that? A difficult question. On the one hand, I really liked the idea—without any ulterior motives. I simply enjoyed having Tim around. On the other hand, I wasn't entirely sure how this would affect my feelings toward him. Well, I would just have to pull myself together.
"I wouldn't have any problems with that. And if, contrary to expectations, it doesn't work out, we can always go our separate ways."
But there was something else. This was the right time for the final test for Tim's father. This test could still ruin everything, but better now than later, when nothing could be done.
"Reinhardt, there's something you should know about me. There's one thing that might fundamentally change your opinion of me."
"What is it? You don't have a corpse in your bed frame, do you?"
Contrary to my usual nature, I wasn't really in the mood for jokes.
»Mir ist das wirklich ernst. Ich sag es jetzt einfach heraus, es gibt eh keinen Weg dir das irgendwie schonender beizubringen. Reinhardt, ich bin schwul.«
To describe his reaction as astonished would be a massive understatement. Well, at least he hadn't gone for my throat yet.
"You're gay? You?"
»Yep.«
"I have to digest that first. I really wouldn't have thought so."
"Does this change anything between us?"
"However, that changes a lot!"
Reinhardt got up from his chair and walked toward me. I was a little worried now. But he just sat down next to me and hugged me.
"Idiot. The only thing that will change is that one day I'll have only one daughter-in-law instead of two, and a son-in-law to boot."
Phew, now it was my turn to look more relieved. Although, if I were him, I wouldn't be so sure about that daughter-in-law either. Reinhardt grinned at me.
"I'm sorry, but revenge is blood sausage. How do you think I felt earlier when you started with that 'monster of a stepfather'?"
Okay, okay. I guess I deserved it.
"Danny, you're still the same nice boy I'd like to have as a son. What I don't know is how Tim will react to that. I actually hope I've raised him to be a tolerant person, but we've never spoken directly about this."
"Tim has known since Saturday afternoon."
So, now I had completely thrown Reinhardt off track. He stared at me with wide eyes.
"And how did he react?"
"Uh, do I really have to answer that question now? After all, you've spoken to him a few times since then, haven't you?"
"Huh, right. Sorry, but that caught me a bit off guard. That was pretty brave of you to tell him on the first date."
"It wasn't. It was pretty stupid."
"You have to explain that to me now."
And I told him the chain of unfortunate circumstances that had led to the discovery of my great secret. When I finished, Reinhardt laughed.
"That's what you call a stupid move. So, do you regret it now?"
»Nein, wie könnte ich, wo Tim so super reagiert hat. Und du jetzt auch. Danke.«
Daß Tim selbst von einigen Zweifel ob seiner selbst geplagt wurde, hatte ich in meiner Erzählung vorsichtshalber weggelassen. Das war etwas, womit Tim selbst rausrücken mußte, wenn er dazu bereit war.
"No need to thank me. This shouldn't be anything special. So, we've talked for quite a while now, how are you? Isn't it getting too much for you?"
Hmm, now that he mentioned it, I did feel a little weak—but then again, our conversation had pretty successfully distracted me from my condition. Still.
"I think I'll lie down for a while."
"Do that. It's almost time for your next batch of pills anyway, I'll bring them to your room."
And so, a few minutes later, I found myself in Tim's bed, still sitting upright against the wall, awaiting the arrival of the poison bomb. I wasn't disappointed; it wasn't long before Reinhardt appeared with pills and drops – the side effects of which I'd rather not even begin to think about. But there was no way around the disgusting stuff, so I bravely swallowed it all.
"Good, little one."
This brought a pained smile to my face.
"Try to get some sleep. Tim will be home around 1:30, and I'll prepare a quick lunch for us. Would you like some then?"
"I can't tell you right now. If I should be sleeping, let me sleep. I'll let you know if I need anything."
"Fine. Okay, then, I'll leave the door open a little."
And then I was alone again. I decided to follow Reinhardt's advice, and I actually fell asleep shortly afterward.

---

Panic. Screaming people. The strained, calm voice of a stewardess. Screeching metal. Fire. Flashing lights. Then darkness. And a voice from far away.
"Danny... Danny, come to. This is just a dream... wake up... come on... please wake up..."
The voice slowly pulled my mind out of the terrible, burning dungeon it was trapped in. I opened my eyes and looked into Tim's worried, yet so handsome, face.
"Come on, Danny, everything's fine. It was all just a bad dream."
That was it, though. I knew that dream very well; I remembered it all too well. After my father's death, I had had it every night for months, then less and less frequently, but it wasn't until about a year ago that I'd finally been free of it. Or so I thought. Why had it come back now? Was it just because of my already tense mental state?
Tim sat half on the bed and held me in his strong swimmer's arms.
"Danny, everything's fine. You were just dreaming. Are you okay?"
At that very moment Reinhardt stormed into the room.
"What happened? Tim, what's going on?"
"Danny had a nightmare, it took me a while to wake him up."
"I see. Danny, are you okay?"
I tried to pull myself together, but my whole body was still shaking. My pajamas were soaked with sweat again, and my vision was pretty blurry. But I had to answer somehow, so I mustered all my self-control in my shaky voice.
"It's okay. It was just so... so real. So intense."
I looked into my brother's eyes.
"Thanks for getting me out of there."
"No problem. Would you like to lie down again now?"
"Please hold me for another minute until I calm down."
While Tim was doing just that and his father was picking out a dry pair of pajamas for me, I found time to glance at my watch. It was just before six; I had slept through the entire afternoon. Or almost, because I vaguely remembered Reinhardt waking me up briefly at some point and giving me my medication.
Slowly but surely, calm returned to me, and I told Tim he could let me go again—but not without thanking him again. His father handed me the new pajamas.
"It's probably better if you change. I'll bring you some fresh bedding."
"Leave it, you already have enough on your plate with me."
"No way. Besides, I've already prepared a full set of bedding. When Tim got the flu, he felt the same way. And once everything's done, I'll bring you a light dinner and your medication."
Well, it looked like I had no say in the matter. With Tim's help, I got up from the bed to give Reinhardt a chance to remove the soaked bedding. I sat down on the folding bed, and shortly thereafter, Tim's father disappeared from the room. Three minutes later, he was back, making up the bed again. Once that was done, he left me alone with Tim again.
"I'll bring the food in ten minutes. When I get there, I want you in bed in dry clothes."
Aye aye, sir. I started peeling off my pajama top. It should have been a simple task, but for me it was as difficult as... like shoveling the garage door in 20 cm of fresh snow. Eventually, I managed it, and I realized I couldn't just change into the fresh clothes. I'd sweated like a pig several times now, and no matter how dirty I felt, I had to get it off my system.
"Tim, can you get your father?"
"What, are you feeling worse?"
"No, but we need to change the plans a little. Please get him, okay?"
"As you wish. I'll be right back."
In fact, I barely blinked twice before the two of them were back in the room with worried expressions.
"What is it, Danny? Do you need anything?"
"Reinhardt, I need to take a shower. I stink, and I feel extremely dirty."
"Danny, I can imagine that, but I don't know if showering is such a good idea. You can barely stand as it is."
I could hardly disagree. But Tim had an idea.
"He could go into the tub. We'll help him get in and out, and while he's in there, one of us will make sure nothing happens."
Reinhardt looked at me questioningly.
"What do you think, Danny? Either this or we wash you here in bed."
Nope, I wasn't that frail. At least, I hoped so.
"Let's try the tub."
"Good. I'll run some water right away."
"Should I get some towels?"
"No, I'll do it. You stay here and keep an eye on Danny."
Hah, like I'm running away!
About a quarter of an hour later, Reinhardt came back to us. He handed me a bathrobe.
"Take off your pants right here and put these on instead. It'll be too tight in the bathroom."
Easier said than done. In the end, Tim had to help me get rid of my socks and pants. Since I was still a little embarrassed in front of him, the whole thing made my face so red it could have passed for an overgrown, ripe cherry. Luckily, I was so frazzled that no other part of my body even got any ideas.
We had just finished undressing when Tim's father arrived to pick us up. With careful guidance from both sides, I made it to the bathroom. It's strange, considering just a few hours earlier I had covered the same distance relatively effortlessly under my own steam.
Arriving in the bathroom, a tub invitingly filled with warm water awaited me. Reinhardt took my bathrobe, and the three of us stood somewhat hesitantly at the edge of the tub.
"Hmm, what's the best way to get you in here without you slipping or hurting yourself?"
Reinhardt cast an appraising glance over my entire body.
"Tell me, when was the last time someone made fun of you? Literally, I mean."
Huh, not that, please! That was just too... Ah. Before I could even begin to protest, Reinhardt had used his height and strength, lifted me from the ground, held me in his arms like a baby, and slowly and carefully lowered me into the water.
"Is the water okay like this? Not too hot or too cold?"
"Just right."
"Good. Just lie there for five minutes. Should I help you wash, or should Tim do it?"
Please not Tim. It was bad enough that he had to watch all of this. His strong, big brother – helpless as a toddler.
"Of."
"Okay. Tim, please stay here and make sure nothing happens."
"All right, Dad."
I leaned back and tried to submerge as much of my body as possible in the pleasantly warm water. I managed to get only my head and the tips of my knees sticking out. Somehow, I immediately felt a little better.
»Alles okay, Danny?«
I glanced at Tim, who was sitting on a stool and looking at me with a worried expression.
"Thank you, that's wonderful. I'm sorry to be such a burden."
"Someone recently told me to stop apologizing for everything. I'll just pass that advice on to you."
Okay, okay. I got a taste of my own medicine. It wasn't long before Reinhardt reappeared in the bathroom and sent Tim into the kitchen to watch the tea water boil.
"Okay, let's get started. How would you like it? Should I help you completely?"
"I think it's enough if you scrub my back; hopefully I can do the rest on my own."
"As you wish. But please don't be embarrassed if you need more help. I can assure you there's nothing I haven't already seen or done with Tim."
Very calming. Still, I was glad that I really only needed help with my back. The wonderfully warm water had revived my spirits somewhat. A few minutes later, everything was done. I got out of the tub and reached for a large bath towel. Reinhardt, however, stopped me and first rinsed the soap residue off me with the shower hose. Then he took the bath towel, wrapped me in it, and then lifted me out of the tub again. All of this with such ease, as if I weighed nothing at all.
»So, ich nehme an du möchtest dich alleine abrubbeln.«
A direct hit. When I was dry and dressed again, Reinhardt took me back to Tim's room. I lay down, was left alone for a moment, and then my dinner was served. A few slices of toast, tea, and the inevitable medication. I bravely devoured everything, and just as I was finished, the phone rang. Tim's father rushed out and came back into the room shortly after with the phone. I had a hunch who was on the line, and my hunch was immediately confirmed.
"Danny, it's your mother, can you talk to her?"
I picked up the phone and answered.
"Danny, how are you? You actually sound pretty good."
It's a good thing she hadn't called half an hour earlier.
"Thanks, I'm feeling much better too. Reinhardt and Tim are taking really good care of me. And how's Paris?"
"It's still standing. It's a wonderful city, the city of love. Maybe I should send you here sometime. You might find a handsome boy for yourself here. Oops—I hope this conversation isn't on speakerphone! I really didn't mean to give you away."
This caused me to let out a hoarse croak, which, with a lot of imagination, could have passed for laughter.
"Don't worry, it's not on loudspeakers. And even if it is, they both know."
"What? You told them? And how did it go?"
"Excellent. Don't worry about it. But I'll tell you all about it when you get back here, so you don't get penniless from the long-distance call. I'll give you your sweetheart again."
The man in question, smiling, picked up the phone again and left the room. What a load of secrecy!
While Reinhardt ran up the phone bill a little more, Tim cleaned up the remains of my meal. Five minutes later, everyone was back in Tim's room. Reinhardt looked at me somewhat reproachfully.
"But that wasn't the whole truth you told your mother. You're already feeling much better."
"I hope you didn't betray me. I want her to have fun in Paris. If I had told her what was really going on with me today, she would have jumped on the next plane and been here in a few hours."
"I understand what you mean. I haven't told her anything, and I won't for the time being. But if you get worse, I won't be able to keep it from her. Agreed?"
"I can live with that."
"Good. How are you now? Did you cope with the exertion?"
"I think so. What I'm missing now is a quiet, restful night without headaches and other problems."
»Dann versuch am besten zu schlafen. Du hast doch auch etwas gegen Schmerzen, nimm davon lieber gleich etwas, als Vorbeugung. Diese Zäpfchen sind dermaßen stark, daß sie bis morgen vormittag vorhalten sollten.«
»Okay, ich zwäng mir so ein Ding rein.«
"Should I help you?"
I thought about it back and forth. Whatever, it didn't make any difference now.
»Okay.«
"Good. Tim, could you please get the thermometer in the meantime?"
Tim did as he was told, and while he was out, his father gave me the painkiller. Then the thermometer kicked in, showing 38.8, and shortly afterward, my two nurses left the room, leaving me to myself. Luckily, I didn't have much time to dwell on it, because after just a few minutes, I drifted off dreamlessly into Morpheus' arms.

---

Okay, now it was time to be strong. Danny, don't be a wimp, you have to go through this. What could possibly happen? But no matter how much I told myself that, no matter how often I dug up the statistics in my head, a bad feeling still remained. This naturally affected my general condition, and slowly but surely, I fell behind the others. Which, of course, was immediately noticed. Reinhardt also fell behind.
»Alles okay, Danny?«
"Yes, everything's great, fantastic, wonderful."
"You're a damn bad liar."
"I know. But I had to try."
"Come on, let's go, it'll be fine."
He put his massive right arm around my body, and together we walked through the narrow passenger tunnel to the entrance of the Airbus that would take us to Orlando. Now it should be clear what had thrown me off track. Okay, the anticipation of Florida was enormous, but the closer the day of departure drew, the more I realized that this inevitably involved boarding a plane. That's something I hadn't done since my father died. My mother had, and although it had taken a lot of effort for her at first, she had flown across Germany and half of Europe in the last few years. I, on the other hand... well, as I said, I was perfectly aware that flying was a very safe form of transport. I also knew all the basic physics, but I still felt nagging doubts. I mean, these turbine-powered wannabes are incredibly heavy and are only kept in the air by tricks—no matter how scientifically sound those tricks may be—and if those tricks fail, the way down is incredibly long, and the impact is incredibly hard and final. But wait, I had to pull myself together now; after all, I couldn't let my (albeit understandable) cowardice ruin the others' well-earned vacation. Besides, it was way too late to jump out anyway. Jump out? Oops, apt choice of words.
With a look of death-defying contempt on my face, I summoned my courage and trudged onto the plane with a fairly steady stride next to Reinhardt. After all, the reward for my courage was truly something special, at least for someone like me. Almost two weeks out of the German cold and off to a place where we could run around in T-shirts and shorts! That was pretty much my idea of paradise. My cocky little brother, by the way, had rushed ahead as if he were afraid the plane would take off without him. Ah yes, the enthusiasm of youth!
Wait a minute, some might say. The guy was just lying terminally ill in strangers' beds, and now he's suddenly on his way to the land of the great Big Mac? Well, folks, I've decided to spare myself (and you) the heartbreaking description of my ordeal over the past two weeks. With slight daily improvements, I've mostly been repeating what had happened on my first day with the Bergners. Fortunately, a few days ago, the family's healing doctor had given the green light for the trip to Uncle Sam, so—even though I still didn't feel 100% recovered—I was able to board the plane in good spirits (or not so good). The almost week I spent with Tim and his father had the welcome effect of bonding the three of us together, something my mother was also delighted to note upon her return from the baguette capital. She'd brought me a real Parisienne, by the way! Well, unfortunately, not one on two legs, but one wrapped in foil. And it was now making its way to Florida with me in my wallet—not that I had any high hopes of needing it there.
But back to the story and back to the plane. When Reinhardt gave us our first look at the tickets at baggage check-in, my eyes almost popped out of my head. It actually said business class! I rummaged through my memory for a moment, but found no reference to a recent lottery win. While both families were doing well financially, shelling out that much money for transportation seemed a bit excessive. While I certainly wasn't going to complain, I was somewhat relieved when Tim's father explained how we came to have this honor. It turned out that he had been translating technical literature for this airline for some time, with the result that he himself had free business class tickets, and his companion received this luxury at the price of tourist class. Sometime soon, I'd ask him if he also happened to work for Lincoln. My 18th birthday was only a few months away, and then I'd need my driver's license, and a Lincoln Navigator at a discount price would complete my happiness. Okay, not quite complete, but I'd still find the right passenger. It had to happen at some point!
Once on the plane, we were shown to our seats, and I generously gave Tim the window seat. Hopefully, that way I wouldn't notice too much of the takeoff. I made myself comfortable and waited for what was to come. I watched the other passengers for a while, then dug out the information material that the operators of this flying heap of metal had prepared for the amusement of the passengers. A glossy brochure, the safety instructions of which jumped out at me the moment I opened it. Very reassuring indeed. At the sight of my pained expression, Tim giggled beside me.
"Really that bad?"
"Uh... hm... yes. Do they also have to explicitly point out that something could happen?"
"I think so, just to protect yourself against claims for damages."
Very nice. I continued browsing and found some more reassuring information, such as information about the video and radio programs and duty-free shopping. A slight sense of relaxation spread through me, and I didn't even notice how the departure time was getting closer. I was startled by the captain's voice, who threatened that the flight attendants would now begin their safety briefing.
"Not this too!"
My mother, who was sitting behind Tim and me with Reinhardt, leaned forward and whispered soothingly in my ear.
"You have to go through it, it won't take long."
Like the proverbial sheep being led to the slaughter, I endured the speech, and when it was over, I wished it would continue for a few more hours. It had suddenly become clear to me that with the end of the chatter, takeoff was imminent. The flight attendants handed out candy to help them cope with the pressure equalization (I would have preferred general anesthesia), and then the plane began to roll. I shrank back in my seat and clenched my hands around the seatbacks. Tim was no longer amused but rather worried.
"We're not taking off yet, first we have to taxi to the runway."
My level of tension dropped to 99%. Tim smiled reassuringly and placed his left hand on my right. 98%. The rolling continued for quite a while, and a crazy thought flashed through my mind. 'Thank God, we're rolling to Florida.' 97%. We made a few turns around the airport. 96%. The plane stopped. 'Engine broken down, flight canceled!' 25% and falling! (Yes, yes, I know: total nonsense. But the things that go through your head when you're so scared you don't know what to do.) Suddenly, there was a roar, the plane began to shake, and began to move, gaining more and more speed. I was back to 100%. The armrests would definitely have to be replaced after my flight; they were guaranteed to be permanently decorated with my fingernail prints. I didn't want to hear any more of this, so I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't have a total blackout, but I wasn't far from it either.
I can't say how long I remained in this state of paralysis, but by the time I was able to perceive my surroundings again, the roaring and shaking had stopped, and I felt a bit like I was in a fast, comfortable car on a freshly repaired highway. I cast a cautious glance around and saw nothing but relaxed faces. Apparently, everything had worked as planned, and we were about to cover the first few kilometers on the way to Disney's Fairytale Land. I turned my head to the right, and from there, Tim was looking at me with a grin so wide it almost burst the boundaries of his face.
"So, survived?"
"Just barely."
"Look at this."
My little brother pointed at the screen in front of me. I had no idea what he was trying to say, but the constantly rising altitude reading wasn't exactly reassuring. But whatever, there was nothing I could do about it now anyway, so I guessed I'd better accept my situation. I reached for the book I'd brought with me, and shortly thereafter, surprisingly, I was completely immersed in the plot.
A while later – the mysterious murderer in my crime novel had just struck for the third time – I was pulled out of the action. A stewardess (wait, stop, objection: a flight attendant) was handing out drinks and snacks. Tim and I helped ourselves, the friendly lady continued her walk through the rows, then the voice of the conqueror of the skies rang out to inform us that we could now catch a glimpse of Hamburg at night, many kilometers below us. This view – Tim kindly let me look out the window, which I did with a little hesitation at first – made up for a lot. I would never have believed that you could see everything so clearly from that height. Individual cars, a fully lit football stadium – simply magnificent. By now, my entire body was hanging on my brother's seat, and our heads were pressed against the small window. A few minutes later, it was all over, and we sorted ourselves back into our own seats.
"Well, Danny, wasn't that a great sight?"
"Can you say it out loud? Is it always like this?"
"No, I've never had that much luck on any of my previous flights. Either we were flying during the day, or there were too many clouds between us and the ground. Old Peter seems to be on your side."
"Well, I have to have a little luck sometimes. I wonder if we'll see anything like this again these days?"
"If the weather cooperates, yes. Next stop would be Glasgow, and after the big water, then Washington."
"Class!"
"Hey, where did your fear of flying suddenly go?"
"What fear of flying? But not me."
"Haha. If you're so easy to cure, I'll quickly cure your fear of water."
"Ugh. Don't remind me. I'm busy enough right now getting over flying at 10,000 meters without a net or parachute. To top it all off, soon, over one of the world's largest bodies of water."
But Tim was absolutely right. I was actually much more relaxed now and could lean back in my chair relatively easily. Slowly but surely, one thing became clear to me.
"Tell me, Tim, is it always this cold on airplanes?"
"Well, it's not particularly warm, anyway. Look at the outside temperature: minus 55 degrees. Every degree they heat costs extra fuel. So they'd rather hand out blankets. Do you need one?"
"Leave it, not yet. But if I ever get the idea to sleep for a while, I wouldn't mind a blanket."
"How you mean."
At least now I knew why we hadn't slipped into the much more summery Florida clothes at the airport back home, but would wait until we arrived in the Sunshine State.
We spent the time until we flew over Glasgow reading and listening to the in-flight radio. Over the Scottish capital, we were once again very lucky with the weather, and the experience from Hamburg was repeated. Shortly after, food was served, which was... well, let's just say: edible. After clearing the table, the picture on the monitors changed, and the main film of the flight was announced: Armageddon. Well, I hadn't seen that one yet, so I switched my headphones to the appropriate channel and spent the next two hours watching humanity's fight for survival. Not bad, actually, but I couldn't quite understand what the girls at my school thought of Ben Affleck.
After the movie ended, I grabbed one of the aforementioned blankets and slept for a good two hours. This way, I could at least dream of having solid ground beneath my feet. Since such good things never last, I was awakened by a gentle shake on my shoulder.
"Danny, wake up."
I tried to collect my thoughts a little, and after a few confused moments, I actually managed to come up with an answer.
"What, are we there yet?"
"No, but you have to fasten your seatbelt. The captain warned of turbulence."
Great! Just what I needed to be happy. I sat up straight and snapped my seatbelt into place. Sure enough, a very unpleasant shaking began shortly afterward. The plane rocked in every direction, and at times I could actually feel it sinking quite a bit. The mood in the cabin was appropriate; you could practically feel the tension.
Our ordeal lasted about a quarter of an hour, after which the flight attendants had their hands full collecting the famous bags. Surprisingly, I hadn't needed mine – unlike my oh-so-cool little brother. But wait, I was definitely not going to make fun of him, since I had already given up on my own life several times during those 15 long minutes.
Well, fortunately, not only the good moments in life end, but also the less so, and we found ourselves in less disturbed atmospheres. As I said, Tim was quite pale – and now he could probably understand my situation much better. Mom and Reinhardt hadn't been entirely unaffected by the events of the last few minutes either; if I understood correctly, the flight attendant in the row behind us had to take two bags of poop. It then took about half an hour until everyone had calmed down somewhat, and the normal in-flight entertainment, with short films and a small snack, started again.
The rest of the flight flew by. Hey, what kind of stupid saying is that? Well, stupid but accurate. Washington was hiding under a thick blanket of clouds – well, maybe good old George was having a visit from an intern and wanted to avoid being observed from above. Maybe they weren't clouds at all, but rather cigar smoke.
The final stretch led down the coast toward Orlando, where we landed around 10:30 p.m. Just an hour and a half later, we had completed immigration formalities, found our luggage, changed clothes, and were just about to find a taxi to the hotel when the name "Bergner" was suddenly called out. So, as requested, we made our way to the information desk, where a man in the airline's uniform was waiting for us. The airline actually seemed quite grateful to Reinhardt; the employee waiting for us turned out to be our driver, who then transported us to the hotel in a minibus (I use this word deliberately; the fashionable "van" here would be a considerable understatement considering the enormous vehicle).
After a drive along still quite busy streets, we reached our accommodation for the next few days: a "resort" right next to the Magic Kingdom. Reinhardt certainly didn't skimp, as was evident shortly afterwards when we were led to a breathtaking suite. A large living room, two bedrooms, each with two huge beds and a private bathroom with a whirlpool, of course, TVs everywhere (okay, not everywhere; they had inexplicably omitted them from the bathrooms), and fully air-conditioned. In two simple words: pure luxury.
However, given the late hour, we decided against further exploration. We quickly unpacked the essentials and shortly after were in bed. Despite the rather exciting past few hours, sleep came really quickly this time.

---

It was only 8 a.m. and I was already awake. And on vacation, no less. And it only took me about an hour to figure out where I was. No, it wasn't quite that bad, but I was a little startled to wake up in a bed that was so big I could have gotten lost. All of this in a room that was slightly over-decorated. It was all a bit over the top for my taste, but then, I guess that was typical American. Before I could indulge in any further analysis, I was jolted out of my musings.
"Hello sleepyhead. Are you finally awake?"
An unpleasantly cheerful Tim stood in the bathroom doorway, grinning happily and wearing only skin-tight boxer shorts. The sight was pure psychological terror for my lonely heart, and I once again cursed the fact that—contrary to certain prejudices—no one could be seduced into being gay. My little brother would certainly have been worth every effort in that regard. But that wasn't meant to be.
"Why are you awake already? They always say little children need their sleep."
"If I didn't need all my energy for today, I'd show you who's a little kid."
"Don't promise anything you can't keep, Timmy!"
"Argh! Now it's your turn!"
With these words, my little brother covered the few steps between the bathroom door and my bed, only to then abruptly stop just within arm's reach. He stared at me with a pensive expression.
"Wait a minute. What was that, you know karate?"
"You can count on it."
"Okay, apology accepted. You've really been very lucky there. But you shouldn't push your luck too much. If you don't get out of bed quickly, you're guaranteed to get into trouble with our old folks. We have a lot planned for today."
Normally, I would have been annoyed by such pushing and shoving, but since I was only too eager to explore my surroundings, I generously overlooked it this time. I threw off the covers, which, for a change (and unlike wintry Germany), didn't result in a fit of shivering.
"Tim, have you found out what the thermometer says yet?"
"Around eighteen degrees. And it's supposed to get up to twenty-five."
"Hallellujah! And where did you get this divine news?"
Tim gestured with his right arm toward the television, which—as I only now noticed—was flickering silently, showing the latest weather information. I sent a quick prayer to heaven regarding the reliability of American weather forecasters and then headed for the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, I re-entered the room, in roughly the same outfit as Tim when I woke up, the only difference being that I wasn't as keen on such skin-tight clothing. Reinhardt's son had meanwhile completed his wardrobe and was standing in the room wearing a T-shirt and blue jeans cut just below the knee. Since this seemed entirely appropriate for the temperature, I agreed with his choice and joined him shortly afterward in a very similar outfit. Tim turned off the television, then we went into the "living room" of the suite, where Mom and Reinhardt were already waiting for us.
"Well, have the young people finally woken up?"
"Oh, Reinhardt, just leave her alone. Yesterday was really exhausting."
"I didn't mean it like that. Good morning everyone."
The morning actually seemed good. It would be even better if my stomach weren't growling so much.
"How about breakfast?"
"We were just waiting for you. So come on, everyone who's hungry, follow me."
He didn't have to ask for long. The caravan set off, and after a march through long corridors and a ride in an elevator, we found a comfortable table for four in one of the hotel restaurants. Ten minutes later, our breakfast was in front of us, and it was quite different from what we were used to at home. Toast (a rather soggy one) with ham, bacon, and a fried egg, along with tea and coffee (which our parents described as not particularly good). Well, as unusual as the combination of dishes was (my mother and I usually preferred the "sweet alternative" for breakfast, i.e., rolls and jam), the stuff was definitely filling. I would have to get used to the taste, but it wasn't bad.
Now that this extremely important need had been satisfied, we turned to planning the day together. Tim, of course, was the most impatient.
"Dad, what are we doing today?"
"Well, we're staying here for four days, so we can visit a different park each day. Maria and I thought it would be best to visit MGM Studios today; you don't necessarily need a whole day for that. We need to get settled in a bit first anyway."
I briefly rummaged through my memory, which I had already thoroughly crammed with all sorts of data and information about our destination at home. Keywords like Star Tours and Tower of Terror came to mind. Well, today would show just how brave my little brother really was.
As expected, there wasn't much discussion, and after everyone had been fed, we returned to our suite. There, Reinhardt showed us various items he'd found on the room table. These included Disney passes, maps, promotional brochures, as well as papers and keys to a rental car. We got all the video and photo equipment ready, then it was time to finally head off to our final destination, so we headed back downstairs and shortly afterward, we were sitting in a Disney bus that would take us to MGM Studios. The journey took us on six-lane roads in places, and the traffic was busy but not too heavy.
Arriving at the park entrance, we stocked up on informational materials and arranged a meeting point in case we got lost in the hustle and bustle. The crowds were still relatively manageable, but that would probably change as the day progressed. Not for the better, mind you. The equipment was divided up: Reinhardt took the video camera, Mom took our 35mm camera, and I got the digital camera. There was nothing left for Tim, and that didn't seem entirely fair to me.
"Hey, Tim, do you want to take the digital camera? It's yours, after all."
"No, let's not. I'm not that into photography."
"Okay, if you say so."
We decided to work our way around the park clockwise, which first brought us to the "Indiana Jones Epic Stunt Spectacular!" We were really lucky; the show had just opened, and we found a good spot in the middle of the stands. The stands filled up pretty quickly; if we had arrived ten minutes later, we would have had to wait for the next show. Shortly after the hallowed halls were completely full, an "anchorman" appeared, welcomed the guests, and then went on the hunt for a few volunteers to act as "stand-in stuntmen." I briefly considered volunteering, but then decided against it (afterward, I was very glad I did). Five spectators were singled out and "led away" to be prepared for their roles. Then the grand spectacle began, featuring several scenes. Among other things, the giant rock sphere from "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" (if I'm remembering that correctly) was used, followed by a wild car and foot chase, complete with fights and shootouts, and even the famous scene with the airplane rolling wildly through the air. All of this was accompanied by music, bangs, and pyrotechnics (all extremely loud!), including some blazing flames. The volunteers also made an appearance, and now I'll stop talking about it further; after all, I don't want to spoil the excitement for future Florida tourists ;-)
The show was truly spectacular, and at its end, we left the arena, stunned by the action and the volume. The next stop was "Star Tours," a ride I highly recommend to all Star Wars fans. A crashed X-Wing fighter lies scattered in front of the entrance, and a giant walker shoots water from its "laser" cannons—accompanied by the typical Star Wars sounds.
Inside, we experienced a fast-paced chase through space, complete with loose asteroids and attacking villains. The sound, light, and motion effects made it all incredibly realistic – something I simply wouldn't have believed possible. Okay, I'd heard how awesome it was supposed to be, but I'd always dismissed it as an exaggeration. It really isn't! Even at that moment, I knew that the four most exciting days of my life awaited me.
Once we'd settled back into our space and time, we decided to split up. Mom and Reinhardt wanted to take it easy, while Tim and I couldn't get to the next attraction fast enough.
"Guys, meet at the Christmas tree at 5:00 PM, okay?"
This decorated fellow, by the way, deserves a special mention. Christmas "tree" probably wasn't quite the right term, because surely no real tree could grow with such geometric precision. Covered to the max with balls, garlands, and other baubles, it was a living (or rather, non-living) example of American excess. Everything has to be a little bigger, more colorful, more unusual than anywhere else in the world. You just have to love the Americans for that. But back to the main event. After my mother had decided on the meeting place, Reinhardt pulled out his wallet and pressed $50 into Tim and me each.
"Here, that doesn't mean you have to spend them in the next few hours."
Hmm, I had seen a few things in the Star Wars shop that I would have liked to buy – but they would have exceeded both my budget and the baggage allowance for the return flight.
"Right, push off, you're almost impossible to stop anyway. Make sure you don't lose sight of each other. And Tim: you stick with Danny, okay? Do what he tells you. Have fun, you two."
I wasn't sure if I really enjoyed this role as big brother. Sure, it was fun to look after the "little one" – but on the other hand, I didn't want him to start seeing me as just an "authority figure." Well, I'd discuss that with him when the opportunity arose.
Mom also wished us lots of fun, and then we were finally able to disperse. Sure, I really liked the two "oldies," but I preferred exploring something like Disney World with someone my own age. Tim seemed to feel the same way, because he couldn't put enough distance between us and the old folks.
"Phew, finally alone! I thought they'd never let us leave in peace."
Yup, Tim felt exactly the same as me!
"Well then, what's our next destination?"
We glanced at the map together, then at the grounds, and soon we were on our way to the Muppet Show—more specifically, to "Jim Henson's Muppet Vision 3-D." As the name suggests, it's a three-dimensional version of the famous puppet show. Appropriate glasses were distributed at the entrance, the wait until the next show was shortened by performances by various Muppets on video monitors, and a few minutes later we were sitting in a real theater. The show that then began was... simply breathtaking! It's a very strange feeling when a car suddenly comes hurtling towards you from the screen. I jumped in my seat and was about to crawl down. Not such a good idea, because Tim next to me was thinking very similar things, and we bumped heads.
"Do not!"
"Same to you!"
Now, of course, some people will say: They knew what was coming. 3D says it all. True! But keep that in mind when you get swept away by the action! We two weren't the only ones who reacted that way, by the way. Luckily, the collision wasn't particularly violent; the shock was greater than the pain, so we were able to continue enjoying the show. We flinched a few times (like everyone else in the theater), but we managed to avoid any further physical collisions.
By the way, knowledge of English is very helpful. While it's not necessary for the rides, the shows are only truly enjoyable if you understand what's being said. Tim and I had no problems with our school English – we understood not only the jokes being played but also the spoken ones.
And one more thing: whether it's speech, music, or special effects – everything is extremely loud. Thomas might be used to this from his squabbling sisters, but it totally freaked me out at first. You get used to it over time, but later on, it can cause lasting damage. (Which can be quite pleasant when you can no longer hear your significant other snoring. That, however, presupposes you have one, which brings us back to the annoying topic of lonely Danny.)
Anyway, after the Muppet Show, Tim and I decided to take a short break to recharge our batteries. Since the Disney people have come to the completely correct conclusion that starving guests aren't good advertising, we didn't have to search long before we came across a hot dog stand. We each treated ourselves to a hot dog and a bottle of Sprite and then found a shady spot to eat our expensively purchased food ($2.50 for a 0.5 liter bottle of Sprite – phew). You can also purchase a very useful accessory for the bottles – a strap that you can use to hang them around your neck. This leaves your hands free, and you always need free hands at Disney.
As I said, we sat down on a strategically located bench and first served the hot dogs to their intended purpose. After our spirits had been thus revived, we leaned back and watched the hustle and bustle for a while. By now, there were huge crowds out and about, and since "people-watching" was one of my favorite pastimes anyway, I really enjoyed it. I mean, the more people there are, the better the chances of seeing some really nice sights ;-)
Tim watched me watching people for a while, then he got bored.
"Well, anyone you're interested in?"
I grinned at him.
"I've seen a few I wouldn't mind."
"Bad finger. And you're supposed to be a role model for me. Tell me, what type of boy do you like best?"
"Hmm, let me think about it. Blonde, slim, athletic—but not a bodybuilder, more like a soccer player or swimmer—intelligent, funny, about my age."
There was a much shorter answer, of course, but I couldn't bring myself to say, "Just look in a mirror." To be honest, I hadn't held out much hope for Tim on this matter. Don't ask me why, it was just a feeling.
"Don't fall for an American here, or are you looking for a holiday fling?"
"No, I want something permanent. I want to share not just my bed but also my life with the guy I fall in love with. That may sound old-fashioned, but that's just the way I am."
"Don't worry, that doesn't sound old-fashioned, more romantic. I couldn't imagine a purely sexual relationship either. Although, at the moment, I can't really imagine a relationship at all. Tell me, why are we whispering? Nobody here can understand us anyway?"
"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you."
The intensity of our subsequent shock was roughly equivalent to the initial shock in a 3D movie theater. Sitting far from home on a bench in Disney World, you're suddenly being spoken to in your native tongue! Japanese wouldn't have surprised me much; we'd already encountered a few people with the right facial features and the inevitable cameras in their faces, but Germans? And on the next bench?
After we had somewhat recovered from our shock, we looked in the direction from which the familiar sounds had come. Sitting on the bench next to us was a couple (a straight couple :-), maybe two or three years older than us. Both of them were grinning at us, both cheerfully and a little guiltily.
"Excuse me, guys, we really didn't mean to scare you. Bernd is a little impulsive sometimes."
"Hey, I just couldn't pass this up. By the way, this is Sandra. You already know my name."
"Ha... Hi. I'm Danny, and the guy next to me is Tim."
How long had they been listening to us?
"Nice to meet you. Are you alone here?"
"Our parents let us off the leash; we were probably a little too demanding for them. Or rather, they were too slow for us."
"I can imagine. We're here with Sandra's parents, and we decided to split up right at the entrance."
"They were afraid that Bernd would drag them into the 'Tower of Terror,' so they gave us some money and then left."
Tim and I grinned at each other.
"Seems familiar."
I took a closer look at our new acquaintances. (I looked at the male part first, of course.) Bernd seemed to be—to put it mildly—a true giant. What I could see while sitting convinced me that he was probably at least as tall as Reinhardt. And even today, surpassing Reinhardt's 1.95 isn't common. He had jet-black, relatively short hair and a goatee. Silver earrings perched in both ears. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were because of his dark sunglasses. His nose was... well, prominent. Not ugly, but it dominated his face. The mouth beneath it (nonsense, where else would it be!) was quite wide, perfect for the distinctive smile Bernd was currently sporting. He was wearing a white T-shirt and black dungarees. (Did I ever mention that I find guys in overalls extremely erotic?) Okay, time to look somewhere else, so that good old Bernd doesn't get any stupid ideas.
Sandra was, surprisingly enough, not much shorter than her boyfriend. I'd guess she was around 1.85 m tall, which would have put her under the bar. Long, reddish-brown hair, brown eyes, a snub nose, and plump, red lips that invited kissing. If you were into such invitations. Red jeans and white
T-shirt completed the picture.
While I was taking all this in, Tim and our counterparts obviously didn't remain idle. Sandra and Bernd were probably scanning us as thoroughly as we were scanning them, and the silence that had arisen during this mutual sizing up was soon broken by the only female in the group (okay, this is a cliché, but females are usually more curious and chatty than males).
"Hey, we overheard a few things earlier, and I hope you don't mind us being too mad, but... are you a couple? I mean, you don't really look like siblings."
Tim looked at me.
"Are we a couple?"
»Well.«
I just managed to refrain from saying “unfortunately.”
"Danny is actually my brother. Stepbrother, to be exact. His mom and my dad met a few months ago, and we're moving in together at the beginning of the year."
"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to offend you. And just for the record: I wouldn't have a problem if you had been either."
"Okay, then I'm relieved. Tim and I may not be a couple, but I'm still gay. And my little brother seems to want to set me up, or where does this sudden interest in my preferences come from?"
"It's logical, how am I supposed to point out handsome guys to you if I don't even know what you mean by a handsome guy."
"Please hold back a little, okay? It's bad enough that Mom keeps pointing out guys on the street and asking me if this guy or that guy isn't exactly my type."
"Okay, I'll try. But don't complain later if you miss out on the love of your life."
"Would it be possible to find a topic other than my nonexistent love life?"
Now Bernd intervened.
"Where have you been?"
I told him what we had done so far, and it turned out that the two of them had visited exactly the same stations, albeit in a slightly different order.
"How about joining Sandra and me? It'll definitely be more fun with four of us."
Tim and I looked at each other and shrugged. Why not?
"Gladly. Where did you want to go next?"
"Let's take a look at the map. What's the cheapest option?"
We delved into the information sheet and looked for a convenient route to the next attraction. Tim tapped a point on the map.
"How about this? 'Backlot Studio Tour' sounds interesting, doesn't it? On the way there, we'll pass 'Honey, I Shrunk the Kids.'"
Everyone agreed, so we pulled ourselves upright and set off. "Honey, I shrunk the kids" turned out to be a children's playground, and what a playground it was! Ten-meter-high blades of grass, a slide shaped like a film reel, and even a pony-sized ant. Naturally, the place was populated by crowds of children. It wasn't that interesting for us "big kids," but the little ones were thrilled. We watched the raging chaos for a few minutes, then continued our stroll in the agreed direction.
This time we had to wait a little bit; it took a good half hour until it was our turn to go on the "Disney-MGM Studios Backlot Tour."
Initially, the journey proceeded on foot, culminating in a simulated naval battle with cannon and torpedo fire. A slightly damp affair for the spectators.
ness – but even wetter for the two picked "volunteers" who had been placed on a ship's bridge in the middle of the battlefield!
We were then put on a small train (like the ones you occasionally see on the road here in Germany, only with a lot more trailers), and a tour through various parts of the Disney-MGM Studios began. We saw recording studios, but also prop rooms and tailoring workshops, etc. Outside, there were plenty of vehicles from various films (Armageddon, Star Wars, Mary Poppins, and many more). The last part of the ride was "Catastrophe Canyon," where exploding tankers and rushing water threatened to engulf the tour vehicle. Once again, some participants who had sat in awkward positions got a closer acquaintance with the wet element – but we stayed dry. At around 25 degrees Celsius, such external cooling wasn't absolutely necessary.
After completing this ride, we moved on to the next point on the map: a behind-the-scenes look at "101 Dalmatians." Trainers demonstrated how to work with the cute Dalmatian puppies, followed by a demonstration of some props and a demonstration of Dalmatian puppets that replaced the real puppies in certain scenes.
Slowly but surely we made our way to the park's attraction, the Tower of Terror, or, to give it its full name, "The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror." The tower could be seen and heard from far away. Well, the tower was only visible; what could be heard were the panicked screams of the visitors. The setting is the dilapidated Hollywood Tower Hotel, destroyed by lightning, in which visitors—if they have the courage—move slowly upwards in an elevator, then rapidly downwards. It's a 13-story free fall! From outside, you can see the people in the elevator cars through opening sliding doors, just as the elevator stops briefly, only to plummet into the depths, accompanied by the bloodcurdling screams of the occupants.
By the time our group of four stood in front of the tower, we were no longer so sure whether it would be a good idea to go. In the end, group dynamics won out; no one wanted to back out, so we lined up, and just an hour later we were in the elevator, heading up. During the ride, spooky hallways appeared before us, but none of us could really concentrate on them. All my thoughts were focused on the impending fall, and later, when it was all over, I realized that the tension before the actual fall, the not knowing exactly when it would happen, was probably the worst part of the whole adventure. Tim, who was sitting next to me, grabbed my hand, and we didn't let go until I stood up. At some point, the sliding doors I'd already seen from the outside opened. I caught a brief glimpse of the park, then we headed down, and in seconds we were a pretty shabby bunch. The sensation of the fall is hard to describe. All my insides felt a strong urge to the ceiling of the elevator, and it took a while for them to sort themselves back into their proper places. That's probably what weightlessness felt like. Our ordeal repeated itself once more, and now, at the very latest, I was grateful that I'd only eaten the one hot dog and, despite our growling stomachs, we'd postponed the next meal until after the tower visit.
After our second fall, we left the area somewhat unsteadily, and it was probably clear from our faces that the Tower wasn't nicknamed "of Terror" for nothing. I, for one, decided I didn't need to go through it again. Okay, I'd been through it once, so now I could have my say, but I wasn't keen on a repeat. Apparently, I wasn't alone in that opinion.
"Bernd, never again! Do you understand? My God, when I think about having to get into a hotel elevator again tonight!"
"You can always take the stairs to the twelfth floor."
"Going up isn't an option, but I'll be going down in the future, you can count on that!"
I looked at Tim, and he was pretty pale too. I guess about as pale as I was at that moment. Well, at least we hadn't wet our pants.
We briefly discussed the matter privately and decided that we deserved a little rest. Fittingly, there was a large feeding trough nearby with various stalls and plenty of tables, one of which we immediately took over. Incidentally, we were now on Sunset Boulevard. Yes, the one from Hollywood. A faithful recreated 1940s vibe, with even a few chic vintage cars parked along the side of the road.
Ten minutes later, we had honored various stalls with our dollars and were now sitting at our lavishly laid table. I felt like the experience in the Tower of Terror had made me even hungrier—so I stocked up on two hamburgers. As we all tucked into our food, Sandra's curiosity returned.
"How old are you, actually? And where are you from?"
I was far too busy with my filled wobbly rolls to answer, luckily Tim had already devoured his (very surprising that he hadn't taken two at once).
"Danny is already seventeen, and I'll be in March. We live in Leipzig. And what about you?"
"We're both twenty. I was born and raised in Berlin, Bernd is originally from Hanover but is now studying in Berlin. We met at university."
Oh dear, Prussian alert! I immediately thought of a line from a song by the notorious Leipzig cabaret artist Jürgen Hart: "But when the Saxon comes to Berlin, they can't stand him there, they want to pull a fast one on him, they want to argue with him." On the other hand, we'd been traveling together for a few hours now, and the two of them didn't seem all that bad. Although Bernd was just a "temporary Prussian" anyway.
"And you're here with your parents?"
"Yes. We got engaged two months ago, and this is a kind of engagement present from my parents. They really wanted to come along, though. But that sounds worse than it is; we have our own rental car, and our room is in a different part of the hotel."
"Sounds like pretty cool parents."
"Sandra's parents are really great; they welcomed me into the family right away."
"And what about your own?"
Bernd made a painful face, which of course my curious little brother noticed immediately.
"Oops, sorry, it's a touchy subject. Forget the question."
Sandra's fiancé continued to look distressed.
"Leave it. True, it's a sensitive subject, but maybe it's better if you know about it. Especially Danny."
Nanu?
"My parents no longer exist for me. It's a pretty unpleasant story, the short version is this: I have an older sister. Antje is a lesbian, and when she told our parents, they kicked her out of the house. It was like, 'We don't have a daughter anymore.' Well, I went along with that right away; now they don't have a son either. And as long as they don't reconcile with Antje, I don't want anything to do with them."
Wow. Now that's what I call sibling solidarity. In my eyes, Bernd had just qualified for imminent canonization. Now it was clear to me why the two of them didn't seem to have a problem with my being gay. Okay, I wasn't too worried about Sandra in that regard anyway; girls rarely seem to have problems with gay guys. Things didn't look quite so good with straight guys, unfortunately. So Bernd was... well, not exactly a notable exception, but probably a member of a minority. A quick glance at Tim showed me that he was staring at the person opposite us with eyes just as wide as mine.
I decided that, despite everything, a change to a less emotionally charged topic was advisable.
"How long have you been here? And how long are you staying?"
Sandra happily seized the opportunity.
"We've been here in Orlando for a whole week, and today is our last day. Tomorrow morning we're heading down to Key West. How about you?"
"We'll stay here for four days, then we'll head over to the Kennedy Space Center, and then down the coast, via Fort Lauderdale and Miami, to Key West. Maybe we'll run into each other again there."
"Unfortunately, that won't work. We'll only stay there for two days, then we'll drive up the Gulf Coast in three days, and then we'll have to go back to Germany."
"That's a shame. But tell me, since you've been here so long, what's one of the must-sees?"
Now Bernd had recovered enough to be able to take part in the conversation.
"Well, I liked Epcot the best. Especially the 'World Showcase,' where the crazy Americans recreated eleven different countries by a lake. You'll laugh your head off at Germany; for Americans, Bavaria is synonymous with Germany. Every self-respecting German wears lederhosen, yodels, and holds a beer mug. But the 'Bratwurst with Sauerkraut' tastes pretty good; it's not bad to have something local on your plate for a change."
However, Sandra had one very important addition to make.
"Beware of the brass band! They regularly pick on innocent spectators and force them to dance the Schuhplattler dance with them! My cheeky fiancé was promptly caught, and when he acted more than a little clumsy, they couldn't believe he was German!"
I made a bold, red entry in my memory. I could easily do without such a display.
"So, Sandra, what did you like best?"
"That's easy to answer. Animal Kingdom. For a change, there are live animals to see, not just puppets. And the Tree of Life has a great 3D theater."
At the mention of this cinematic achievement, Tim and I
into loud laughter, which seemed to slightly confuse our two companions.
"Come on, Tim, tell them what we have to contribute to the topic of '3-D cinema'."
My brother was only too happy to comply, with the result that Sandra and Bernd fell into fits of endless laughter. Once they had calmed down somewhat, Bernd showed us his right forearm.
"Look, these little scratches are from Sandra's fingernails. She gave them to me in the exact scene Tim just described."
This finally saved the mood, and the slight dissonance over the topic of "Bernd's parents" was forgotten. After we had finished all our food, we strolled leisurely along Sunset Boulevard through the bustling crowd. A two-man comedy troupe had set up shop at one corner, and they, too, were engaging the audience in their performance. The most important thing to remember: never stand too far forward.
The weather, by the way, was perfect for exploring the park: sunshine with fluffy clouds, not too warm, not too cold. For me, that meant plenty of handsome guys, covered in relatively little fabric. A particularly interesting sight were the white-clad cleaning boys who zoomed through the streets on roller skates, immediately sweeping up every scrap of paper or anything else that could be considered "dirt." Certainly not a particularly pleasant job, but as I said, these tanned, muscular guys were a great sight.
At a leisurely pace, we walked toward the meeting point we'd agreed upon with our parents (Tim's and mine): the large Christmas tree right in front of the "Great Movie Ride," which we then checked in on, as we still had enough time. A ride through American film history, with Casablanca, The Wizard of Oz, Alien, and other films. Quite interesting, and it proves once again that Americans don't walk anywhere, as long as it can be avoided.
After we had finally completed this journey, it was time to say goodbye to our unexpected new friends. It was a real shame that they had to move on the next day, but that's life. While Tim and Bernd took a quick look at a souvenir stand where they sold glow-in-the-dark bracelets and similar items, Sandra took me aside for a moment.
"Well then, have a nice vacation. And good luck with Tim."
I must have looked pretty bewildered because she laughed quietly to herself.
"Don't try to deny it, you have a crush on that boy, I can see it from a mile away."
"Hmm, okay, guilty as charged. But that won't come to anything. He's probably 'straight as an arrow,' as the local natives say. Or did you happen to notice something about him, too?"
"Well, he likes you, a lot. Whether just as a brother or whether there's maybe more to it is really hard to say. In any case, I wouldn't give up all hope if I were you. So, where are the two of them? Oh yes, over there. Come on, we should really say goodbye soon. My parents are waiting for Bernd and me at the exit."
So we wandered over to the aforementioned souvenir stand, where Bernd gave his girlfriend a glowing plastic rose and the two then said goodbye to Tim and me.
My little brother had bought himself a luminous ring, which he now hung around his neck, and shortly afterwards he blessed me with a similar one, only mine glowed blue and his red.
»Danny, wie spät ist es?«
»Viertel vor fünf. Moment mal, wo ist deine Uhr?«
"I must have lost it; the bracelet was already slightly torn this morning. Luckily, it was just a cheap piece of plastic. That's another topic. I'm thirsty, shall we have a quick drink before Dad and Maria show up?"
Good idea. I spotted a drinks cart not twenty meters away. I pressed a five-dollar bill into Tim's hand.
"Here, bring me a Coke, please. I just want to quickly look around the stand."
»Okay.«
Tim left, and I let my eyes wander over the displays. I was looking for something specific that I'd seen several times in the park over the past few hours. Ah yes, there it was! I paid, and at that moment, my gaze caught on another item, and I simply couldn't resist pulling out my wallet again. With the money safely tucked away and my purchases in hand, I looked around for Tim and spotted him on a bench, practically directly under the Christmas tree we'd agreed upon as the meeting point. I strolled over and sat down next to him.
"Did you buy yourself something nice?"
»Well.«
"But you bought something, didn't you?"
"Yes. But not to me, to you. Give me your left hand."
Tim looked at me, puzzled, but did as he was told. The next moment, his jaw dropped when he saw me strap a dark blue watch with subtle Disney motifs around his arm.
"So, so you know what time we live in again. It's not a luxury item, but it will do the job."
"Cool, Danny, thanks. But that wasn't necessary."
"Oh yes. And now the other hand."
Now Tim was completely confused, and I had to help him a little. At first, he wasn't quite sure what I was putting on his other wrist, but then he recognized it, and his eyes grew wider and wider.
"You can't be serious!"
"Oh but!"
"I'm not a little kid anymore!"
"Your father has given me responsibility for you, and that wasn't easy even during the day in the hustle and bustle. Now that it's getting dark, I definitely don't want to lose you. So no arguments!"
Well, what had I done to him? Quite simply: throughout the day, I'd noticed several parents putting their small children on a leash. To be precise, they were brightly colored plastic spirals, similar to telephone cords, which were attached to the child's arm with a wristband and held in place with a loop at the other end. This way, the children couldn't get lost even in the thickest crowd. And I had now put one of these "child leashes" on my little brother, who was staring at me in disbelief.
"I don't want anyone to say I didn't look after you properly. Now, little one, I think we should look around a bit to see if we see the rest of the party standing around somewhere."
I stood up, but Tim was still so stunned that he didn't react. So, for the first time, I used my newfound power and pulled the cord. This caught my brother's attention.
"Hey, don't pull like that, I'm coming."
Hey, was that all? Where was his loud protest? No matter. I let my gaze wander over the crowd, and sure enough, about a hundred meters away, I could make out Reinhardt. It wasn't that difficult with that giant. He, in turn, was doing the same thing as me: scanning the crowd, but apparently hadn't spotted us yet. I pointed this out to Tim.
"Where? Ah, there. Great. Let's sneak up behind you."
And he was gone. Meaning: he wanted to be gone, but now he had a tag-along. He pulled this tag-along—me—with all the strength of his swimming legs to the side of the square opposite Reinhardt's current line of sight. I had no choice but to follow him. The leash wasn't actually intended, but I resigned myself to my fate.
Three minutes and a few quick ducking maneuvers later, we found ourselves ten meters behind Mutti and Reinhardt. We crept closer, then Tim squeezed himself between them from behind.
"Are you looking for someone specific?"
The result of this attack was two powerfully flinching parents, as well as some dark promises of gruesome revenge. I had ceremoniously held back during the actual "scare" and was therefore hopeful of avoiding this revenge.
Once everyone had calmed down a bit, we discussed what to do next. Tim's father pulled out his program booklet and leafed through it.
"Here, look. There's a big light and laser show at 6:30. Shall we go and see it?"
That sounded quite promising, so we agreed immediately.
"Well, then we should hurry up and get there so we can get a few good seats."
"Guys, if we get lost in the crowd, meet back here at eight."
"Don't worry, Mom, Tim can't get lost."
"What do you mean?"
I pulled on Tim's leash, lifting his right arm vertically. Mom and Reinhardt noticed for the first time what was attached to my little brother's wrist. Their reaction was appropriate: Reinhardt choked on his own saliva and had to let my mother help him out with some hard slaps on his back. I put on a satisfied face, while Tim, on the other hand, looked around a bit embarrassed. He did, however, have a slight smile on his face.
Nach ein paar Minuten hatten sich unsere Erziehungsberechtigten wieder beruhigt, und ein immer noch leicht keuchender Reinhardt wandte sich an meine Mutter.
"Your son had a really good idea. But now that we're all together again, maybe we should change it up a bit."
Uh oh, what was he up to? That sounded extremely suspicious, and I cast a suspicious eye at the trained Coke spiller. My mother seemed to suspect something too and wanted to know exactly what it was.
"What do you mean, Reinhardt?"
"If we don't buy another leash, then you can guide Tim safely through the crowds, and I'll take care of Danny. It's like a family bond."
No! Reinhardt was actually good at that; I knew him so well by now. And Mom was ready for anything, like using cold water to help me stand up. To my great relief, a quick glance around showed me that the souvenir stand had moved on. Still, a little clarification couldn't hurt.
"No need, Reinhardt, unlike Tim, I'm old enough to take care of myself AND him."
"What do you think, Maria, do we believe him?"
"Well, he hasn't let us down so far, so the benefit of the doubt is for the accused. But I think we should really get going now. Come on, you two, let's go!"
We made our way to the arena, which, by the way, was located directly below the aforementioned Tower of Terror. Tim walked very close to me, presumably so no one could easily see how captivated he was by my appearance. Well, with the onset of darkness, he probably didn't have to worry too much anyway.
We reached the venue around 5:30 a.m., and we found relatively good seats right next to an aisle. Reinhardt took the seat right next to this aisle—something he would later regret. But first, we intercepted one of the many street vendors and treated ourselves to another drink—a day at Disney Parks is pretty exhausting. The arena continued to fill up, and half an hour before the show was due to start, it was packed. We were already preparing ourselves for another 30 minutes of waiting when something suddenly happened behind us.
Two of the street comedians Tim and I had run into earlier in the day came stomping down our aisle, laden with a chair, ladder, and flashlight. Once down at "stage level," so to speak, they began to get the audience fired up. But wait, I just realized I haven't said a single word about this "stage" yet! Please bear with me. So, the amphitheater was built in a semicircle, and at the foot of the rows of seats was a lake! In the center of this lake, in turn, rose a huge rock with a stage carved halfway into it.
Meanwhile, the two entertainers had set up a chair and ladder, climbed onto them (each of them onto one of the pieces), shone flashlights into the audience, and joked around. This went on for about a quarter of an hour, with the crowd (and us too) building up a real sense of anticipation for what was to come. Then the two colorfully dressed Disney employees gathered their things and slowly walked up the stairs in our corridor toward the top of the dam. Slowly because they constantly had to pose for photos and, incidentally, were lugging a fair amount of luggage with them. Not for long, though. When they reached our line, the ladder-bearer cast an appraising glance at Reinhardt, and shortly thereafter, Tim's father was sworn in by him as a pack mule! Well, no wonder, the comedian was rather slight in build, quite unlike my future stepfather. He put on a brave face and resigned himself to his fate, which involved lugging the ladder up the rest of the slope (which was about two-thirds of the way). Well, he did get a standing ovation for that at the end. I think Reinhardt had learned by now that you shouldn't necessarily sit in the most exposed spots at Disney World. The other three of us had a great time, and Tim, in particular, was clearly enjoying the idea.
The "volunteer" had just sat back down next to my mother when the lights slowly but surely went out, giving way to a darkness broken only by the flashes of cameras. Then what I had feared happened: music started playing at a volume that would irritate my eardrums. Okay, I'll keep this short; this isn't supposed to be a travel report. For the next thirty minutes, we marveled, open-mouthed, at a show of light, lasers, fire, dance, and music. All sorts of Disney characters performed, some on the aforementioned rock stage, some on boats that circled the stage. And, as I said, fire and light were everywhere. A tip for anyone who might find themselves in the embarrassing situation of having to jet off to Florida: it's always worth staying in the Disney parks until the evening; the fireworks and other light shows are worth it.
Half an hour later, it was all over, and the crowds began to clear the arena for the second performance of the evening, which began an hour later. I tried to clear my ears, and after a while, I was even able to understand spoken words at a normal volume again.
"Well, guys, that was wonderful, wasn't it?"
"HUH? SORRY, DAD, I CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU!"
Apparently, I wasn't the only one who suffered from the noise. My mother looked worried.
"Tim, is everything okay? Can you really hear nothing?"
"Everything's okay, Maria. I'm fine. But I don't want to go through this every day; it really ruins the rest of the show."
Well, we would probably have to live with it for at least the next three days, because I feared that the conditions in the other theme parks would not be any better in this regard.
After a quick glance at the information booklet, we let ourselves be carried along by the crowds toward New York Street, a reconstructed street of the metropolis, consisting partly of plastic facades, partly just painted houses. Clotheslines hang across the street, and "real" New York traffic noise plays. Tim and I had already seen this street earlier in the day, but now a lot had changed. 3D glasses were being distributed at various locations, which we naturally couldn't miss. We had already seen the Christmas decorations in daylight, and now they were brightly illuminated, and with the glasses, many elements transformed into moving images, for example, angels fluttering their wings. Christmas music was playing, and it was... snowing! Of course, it was only artificial snow, or rather, foam flakes, but still.
We strolled leisurely down the street, and at the end of it, another attraction awaited us, one that could only be enjoyed in the dark: "Osborn's Wonder of Light." Good old Mr. Osborn was the proud father of a daughter who wanted a festively lit house from him for Christmas. Anyone who has ever seen American Christmas movies will already be familiar with the American urge to decorate the outside of their house with lots of fairy lights – but in Mr. Osborn's case, this got a bit out of hand, even by American standards. The entire house was hung with lights, and when that was no longer enough a few years later, the caring family man also bought the two neighboring houses to expand his world of lights. When this too became too small, the entire scene was promptly relocated to Disney World, where a walkway several hundred meters long is now illuminated by over 4 million lights. Here, too, the special glasses were used again, so that "normally" lit trees—that is, trees hung with 500 or more lightbulbs—appeared as if they were rotating. Everything, absolutely everything, was illuminated, even the garden chairs in front of the houses. A truly magnificent sight, even if it was enough to make you shake your head. Oh, and by the way, the Christmas music playing here was even turned down to a tolerable volume!
By the time we'd left this behind, it was already 8:00 a.m., and we decided to slowly make our way back to the hotel. At the park exit, I freed Tim from his leash, and shortly after, we were on the bus. Once we arrived at the hotel, we decided to have a late dinner at the steak restaurant. While we waited for the food, we told each other how we'd spent the day. The scene in which we made the surprising acquaintance of other German tourists, as expected, provoked great laughter from Reinhardt and Mutti.
"Well, you should have expected that. Half the world meets here. I hope it wasn't too embarrassing."
"We survived. I'm used to similar situations with you, Mom."
"How do you mean it now?"
"Well, Tim was just trying to grill me about which of the guys running around in front of us was most to my taste. And that's exactly what Sandra and Bernd heard. It reminded me of certain scenes in ice cream parlors, and don't tell me you don't know what I'm getting at."
Reinhardt and Mom burst out laughing again, but Tim looked at me a little guiltily.
"Danny, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. Are you really mad at me?"
"Oh come on, Tim, where did you get that from? I'm not mad at you at all, it's not like it's top secret. If I had problems with people's reactions, I should never have told anyone. So calm down. It was pretty funny anyway. And I'm pretty glad you were the one who said that nobody here understands us anyway. That was embarrassing!"
I grinned at my little brother, and the corners of his mouth also turned up again. It looked much better, too.
Shortly after, our food arrived, and my T-bone steak turned out to be a plate-filling monstrosity. But don't worry, I wasn't going to let a piece of meat get me down! Especially after such a strenuous day, I had no problem finishing my plate completely – Tim felt the same way, by the way.
After dinner, we went to our suite, and both Tim and I decided to just take a quick shower and then disappear into bed. I shooed my brother into the bathroom first, and while Tim disappeared, I stripped down to my underwear and flipped through the endless variety of TV channels. Fifteen minutes later, Tim left the bathroom in his pajamas, and I went to rinse off the day's dust. The whirlpool actually looked tempting, especially considering my somewhat sore bones, but I really didn't have the strength for it right now, so I settled for a quick shower.
When I left the bathroom, the TV was on without sound, and a quick glance at the other bed showed me that Tim was already slumbering peacefully in Morpheus's arms. It seemed to have completely knocked the little one out. Well, no wonder; I probably wouldn't have any trouble falling asleep either. I turned off the TV and Tim's bedside lamp, then lay down in my bed (which could easily accommodate two or three other people). A quick turn on my lamp, and the room was plunged into darkness. While trying to replay the day's events in my mind, I must have fallen asleep pretty quickly.

---

What a restful night. I hadn't slept so well in a long time. Perhaps a little too well, because I wasn't woken by a friendly "Good morning," but by something extremely cold and extremely wet in my face. If we were proud dog owners, I would have considered a tongue bath, but that wasn't an option. I wanted to free myself from this unpleasant thing, but quickly realized that both my arms were being held mercilessly. So I tried a verbal escape.
"Damn it, what's going on! Whoever this is, leave me alone!"
"Tim, did you understand anything?"
Aha! My future stepfather's voice came from my left, so it must have been him holding my arm there like a vice.
"Nope, Dad. Sounded kind of Arabic. But it could have been Chinese."
Tim from the right. And I realized that whatever was on my face hadn't made my words come through quite as clearly as they had come out of my mouth.
At that moment, another participant in the drama entered the stage.
"Well, did you finally wake up the late riser? If I were you, I wouldn't just use the washcloth, but also a large amount of cold water. Otherwise, Danny would sleep through even the strongest earthquake."
Aha! I should have known. My caring mother was the originator of this unfair attack.
"I think he's awake now, Maria. He's definitely been making some inarticulate noises. Should we let him go?"
"Okay. But you should be quick and be careful he doesn't catch you. My son is quite vindictive when it comes to rude awakening methods."
"Thanks for the warning. Tim, on three."
Just wait. I'm already tensing my muscles so I can pounce on the count of "three."
"One two …"
It never got to three, because my blindness caused by the something on my face was shamelessly exploited, and at the count of "two," my two grippers jumped away before I could even react. But perhaps that was even better, because I should really be directing my desire for revenge at the instigator, namely my mother. With a quick grab, I wiped what I could now identify as one of my washcloths from my face, flung the covers off me, and jumped out of bed, covering the ten steps to my mother with blazing eyes full of murderous intent.
"Just wait! Don't think you'll get off that easy!"
Halfway to her, I suddenly heard Tim scream in shock.
"Danny, watch out! Stop!"
Before this had fully registered, however, it was already too late. My feet tangled, and in a rather inelegant aerial maneuver, I landed sprawled on the soft carpet. Luckily, I had the presence of mind to break my fall with both hands, but it still knocked the air out of my lungs, and it took me a moment to regain my bearings. Damn it, who or what had pulled my legs out from under me? I hadn't seen any obstacle or tripping hazard, had I? While I was catching my breath and pondering these thoughts, my mother came running to me.
"Danny, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"
Had I hurt myself? Apparently not, at least not much.
"Everything's okay, I've had worse crashes."
I got up on my hands and knees and looked at my mother, who had squatted down in front of me. Relief first spread across her face, then the corners of her mouth began to twitch suspiciously, and shortly afterward, she burst into raucous laughter, which Tim and Reinhardt joined in at the same moment. I really hadn't expected so much sympathy.
"What's so funny about that?"
The result was that everyone just laughed even louder. Then Tim managed to get a few clear words out.
"Well, Danny, your butt isn't so nice that you have to show it to us all the time. The one time you were sick was actually enough."
Huh? What was he trying to tell me? I started to stand up, looking down at myself, and a few things became clear to me.
»O Schei…benkleister!«
My short pajama pants had come undone on their own; the elastic had probably broken, and were lying at my feet. This was most likely what caused my fall. I, for one, was standing completely out in the open—and I really could have done without it. True, everyone involved had seen me like this before: Reinhardt and Tim during my illness, and Mom of course. But this had happened in an emergency, so to speak, and even then, it had been quite embarrassing. I bent down and grabbed the irresponsible piece of fabric to pull it back into its rightful place, but I hadn't noticed that I was standing with one foot on my pants. They took my exerted all my strength very badly, and with an unpleasant sound, I had half of the pants in my right hand, the other half still lying on the ground beneath my foot.
"Damn it!"
"Danny, watch your tongue!"
Mom was a bit sensitive about the swearing, but at the moment I didn't really care.
"Should I burst into cheers?"
"You should quickly find something else to wear. Here in America, they lock people up for acting like that. I think they call it indecent exposure."
"Thanks for the tip. You just don't have to look."
"Good, good. Come on, guys, I think we should leave Danny alone for a bit. And hurry up a bit, we're leaving for breakfast in twenty minutes."
After these words left my mother’s mouth, she
– Tim and Reinhardt in tow – out of the room.
Wonderful. Once again, I'd contributed to the general amusement. The only question that remained was, when would someone finally amuse me? Before I could ponder this further, my glance caught the clock and showed me that I'd better hurry if I was interested in breakfast. And I certainly was. So I quickly went through the bathroom, got dressed, and then joined the other three. Breakfast was similar to the previous day, and the same applied to the departure for the park, except that this time the destination wasn't MGM Studios, but Epcot Center.
I'll hold back a bit with the descriptions this time; apart from the attractions, nothing happened that was worth mentioning. Except that not only was Tim put on the leash he'd bought the day before—no, Reinhardt made good on his threat and got me one too! And Mom, who just the day before had been of the opinion that such a safety line wasn't necessary for me, politely held back. Typical again.
Fortunately, we were both released after a few minutes – but not without some stern warnings about our behavior and the warning that if we behaved badly, we would be put back on the leash very quickly.
Back to the park itself. First, we stepped onto the shiny silver golf ball, Epcot's symbol, called "Spaceship Earth." Inside, we took a slow ride through the history of communication, from the Stone Age to the future. In several adjacent exhibition halls, we were able to see and try out state-of-the-art computers and—most importantly *g*—the latest computer games.
The next stop was "The Living Seas," which is all about the ocean and underwater world. Manatees, sharks, rays, and a dolphin show were the highlights. Surprisingly, I couldn't persuade water freak Tim to take a dip in the shark tank.
One of the highlights of Epcot is definitely the 3D show "Honey, I Shrunk the Audience," based on the movie "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids." Only here, the audience is shrunk. The effects, already seen in the 3D shows at MGM Studios, caused plenty of screams from the audience.
Our path then led us to the "World Showcase" – which the two Berliners had already told us about. This time, Reinhardt was also smart enough to stay as far away from all Disney employees as possible – with the result that he was able to watch other, less cautious spectators dancing Schuhplattler with a broad grin on his face.
So the day passed, once again quite exhausting but eventful. Of course, I can't forget one tip: When it gets dark, you should definitely take a ride on the monorail – the brightly lit parks are a magnificent sight!
We left Epcot around 6 p.m. – even though a fireworks display was scheduled for 9 p.m., we couldn't bring ourselves to wait another three hours. This time we settled for a fast-food dinner.
At the hotel, we discussed what to do with the rest of the evening, and I actually let Tim persuade me to go to the hotel pool. We got dressed in our swimsuits in our room, and while I put on my usual baggy swim shorts, Tim decided to tease me a little by putting on just about the tightest, most snug swim trunks I'd ever seen. Did he even know what he was doing to me?
"Hey, Tim, no swimsuit today?"
"Why? Do I need it? Should I have a swim race with you?"
"Even that miracle thing wouldn't do you any good. But aren't you afraid those prudish Americans might arrest you in that outfit?"
"Why? I'm dressed appropriately for the occasion, aren't I?"
Well, I decided to refrain from any further explanation and instead grabbed the other things we'd need. After a quick goodbye, we headed to the hotel pool. A large pool with blue water, surrounded by loungers under palm trees, and a bar right next door. Tim was impressed.
"Man, just wonderful!"
Well, if I had any love for water, I'd probably agree with his assessment. As it was, I mumbled to myself, only half-convinced, and looked for a comfortable spot—a few meters from the edge, of course. Tim had no such inhibitions; he simply threw his clothes onto a lounger next to mine, and the next moment he dove into the water with a graceful dive. My hope that he'd lose his swim trunks on this occasion was unfortunately not fulfilled.
I decided to let my water-crazy brother burn off some energy on his own and get myself something nice from the bar instead. My choice fell on a rather exotic-looking drink, which I carried back to my lounge chair. I sat down and let my eyes wander over the scene. To be honest, there were a few other people besides Tim who got my blood pumping. Remember: in situations like this, baggy swim trunks with lots and lots of fabric are extremely soothing. At least for the cautious, modest mind.
Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to indulge in these thoughts undisturbed for much longer, as I soon encountered some very unwelcome company. Unwelcome, mainly because she was female. A tall, lanky blonde, who looked suspiciously like she had silicone inserts, plopped down in the seat next to me and couldn't resist chatting me up. In English, by the way, but I'll be damned if I'm retelling this in the original language!
"Hi! What are you doing here all alone?"
I almost answered, "Enjoy the perfect peace and quiet that existed until just now," but somehow I couldn't manage it. It must have been because I was far too well-bred for such situations.
"Recover after a long day."
"Interesting. By the way, my name is Heidi."
Now I had to pull myself together to keep from bursting out laughing. Heidi! That really seemed very fitting. She looked exactly like a Heidi. However, I would have preferred fellow Heidi Peter. Much better.
»Danny.«
Unfortunately, my hope of discouraging her with such a curt answer was not fulfilled.
"You're not from around here, are you? You have a weird accent."
Na vielen Dank auch. Vielleicht sollten wir die Unterhaltung auf Deutsch fortsetzen.
»Ich bin aus Deutschland.«
"Incredible! I've never spoken to a German before."
Let alone done more, I think. And good old Heidi wouldn't have any luck with me either.
"Can I see you in your lederhosen?"
Phew! Great, the Disney propaganda had already completely hit her! Besides, the way she was staring at me and batting her eyelashes, it seemed like she didn't want to see me in my (nonexistent) lederhosen so much as she wanted to help me out of them. Help!
"Sorry, but I don't own anything like that."
Even this slightly harsh answer did not seem to dissuade her from her rather clear intentions.
"Too bad. So, what are you doing here? Do you want to do something together?"
Now I was almost ready to jump up and into the pool, despite my fear of water. Luckily, I caught Tim's eye, grinning in my direction. Hopefully, he could lip-read, because I now silently called out to him, "Save me!"
"I'm sorry, I have to look after my little brother."
Luckily, Tim didn't notice, otherwise he might have deliberately kept me waiting. With relief, I saw him strolling toward us at a leisurely pace, soaking wet, a sight that interested me considerably more than that of the blond poison next to me.
"Hey, Danny, who's that? You're not cheating on Olga, are you?"
Olga? Who the hell was Olga?
"This is Heidi. Heidi – my brother Tim."
The two looked at each other appraisingly. Although Tim's look seemed less appraising than contemptuous.
"Honey, you'd better leave my brother alone. He's not available anymore, and his girlfriend is the daughter of a Russian mafia boss. It would be a stupid idea to mess with her. At least if you want to continue enjoying your reflection."
Ah! That Olga meant my clever little brother! Heidi looked back and forth between Tim and me.
"But she doesn't need to know that, does she?"
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. Who knows, maybe she assigned someone to keep an eye on her lover?"
You could see what was going on in her head. That is, if there was anything capable of working. Maybe a bale of straw had just tipped over in there.
"Oh God, I just remembered I should meet my mom! I'm sorry, but I have to go!"
The next moment, she shot off like a rocket, taking the opportunity to slip on the wet floor at the edge of the pool. A muscular blonde man just managed to catch her – and thus became the next victim of her advances. The fake maternal meeting was, of course, immediately forgotten. We watched them leave the pool area together.
"Too bad, Danny, maybe the blond chick would have been more to your taste. Now she's got him."
"No, I'm not into bodybuilders. Who knows, there's probably more chemistry circulating in his body than in our chemistry lab at school."
Tim laughed out loud.
"You could be right."
"By the way, thank you for saving me. I haven't experienced anything so terrible in a long time."
"Well, that's what you get for looking so good."
Huh, did I mishear? Did Tim just compliment me?
"I have no idea what you mean. I really don't look that special."
"Oh yeah. And that's why you'd barely sat down in your chair when good old Heidi started trying to land you. Believe me, you'll definitely make some girls fall for you."
Wonderful, exactly what I was missing. I hadn't noticed it at home; practically all the women I was in close contact with knew they had no reason to hope for it.
"Huh, I'll have to do something about that ASAP. What do you think, should I shave my head? Or get a big nose ring?"
"Not a good idea. After all, you only want to scare away the girls, not the guys who might have an eye on you."
Unfortunately, he hit the nail on the head. Unfortunately, I hadn't met a boy like that who had his eye on me before.
"So, what should I do?"
Tim thought for a moment, then his face brightened.
"I've got it! We're going to turn you into a 120 percent gay man! Watch this: from now on, only skin-tight clothes, maybe some vinyl and leather. And a gold earring on the right. Then you have to work on your pronunciation; you'll develop a decent lisp, right? You also have to start waving your arms around properly when you speak. And of course, shake your butt when you walk."
"Aaarggh! I'm sorry, but that's absolutely not possible! That would scare away the very gay guys I definitely don't want to scare away. I'm hoping for a completely normal guy, and I definitely wouldn't be able to attract one in that outfit. Not to mention what Mom and Reinhardt would say."
"You're a pretty difficult patient, you know that? You don't make any demands at all, do you?"
"Me? Claims? Not that I know of."
"Well, then you'll just have to live with the fact that people from the wrong side will continue to try to tow you."
»Naja, ich werde es überleben. Jetzt habe ich ja dich, du wirst doch auch hoffentlich weiterhin zu meiner Rettung herbeieilen, oder?«
"What wouldn't you do for your big brother? Well, I don't want to be like that."
"Thanks alot."
"Maybe you should get a picture of 'Olga' and put it in your wallet. That'll be more convincing."
"Okay. What does a Russian mafia daughter look like?"
"I don't know. Much more important is the grim bodyguard, who should also be in the picture."
"That doesn't exactly make finding a suitable image any easier."
"You'll do it. It's for a good cause, after all."
»That's true, too.«
"So, what do you think, are you coming into the water now?"
I must have presented a rather doubtful or desperate appearance.
"Go on, I promise I'll look after you. You definitely won't drown. Besides, if you're in the water, the risk of another female attack is much lower."
This last argument was what led me, against my better judgment, to face my arch-enemy, water. Tim considerately stayed with me in areas where I could still stand comfortably, and after a while, I temporarily forgot most of my fears. I even let him persuade me to slide down the miserably long slide once!
After about half an hour, I left the water again – Tim stayed for another twenty minutes, where he seemed to feel most comfortable. When he finally, with a heavy heart, said goodbye to the pool, we wandered back to the room, and after a quick shower, we hit the cots. Considering another exhausting day, it wasn't long before the only sound we heard was the steady breathing we make while sleeping.

---

The next day was December 24th – Christmas Eve. And even a confirmed cold-blooded person like me had to admit that Christmas at 20 degrees Celsius and under palm trees didn't quite compare to the (unfortunately rarely white) Christmases at home.
We had decided to spend the day at the next Disney park, Magic Kingdom, and that's exactly what we did. This is the first, original park, whose most outstanding feature is the fairytale castle. Here, too, everything was decorated for Christmas (or rather, the way Americans imagine Christmas).
The attractions were typically gigantic, as Disney does. At Splash Mountain, I suffered the first serious loss of the trip – while whizzing down the log flume, my beautiful West Point hat flew off. I had to replace it with a ridiculously expensive $25 Disney hat – walking around in the Florida sun without a hat isn't particularly advisable.
We satisfied our hunger on Tom Sawyer's Island, which you have to cross by raft. We had a ham and cheese sandwich – which sounds more harmless than it actually was. Imagine two large slices of toast, at least a dozen layers of ham in the middle, and twice as much cheese. On the side, a bag of potato chips. None of us needed seconds.
Other stops included "Pirates of the Caribbean" (you could even see the pirates' hairy, dirty feet), "Jungle Cruise" (a boat ride through a fake jungle with equally fake animals), "Big Thunder Mountain Railroad" (a moderate roller coaster), "Haunted House" (a great haunted house!), "Space Mountain" (a roller coaster in total darkness – never again!), "The ExtraTERRORestrial Alien Encounter" (not for the faint of heart), "Time Keeper" (a leisurely journey through time with HG Wells' time machine), "Peter Pan's Flight" (a sort of cable car through the world of Peter Pan), and – of course – the big Disney parade on "Main Street USA." The day concluded with a ten-minute fireworks display at the brightly lit "Cinderella's Castle" – the noise of which was almost drowned out by all the "ahs" and "oohs" from the spectators.
By the way, anyone who's afraid of large crowds should avoid Disney parks at all costs during special occasions like Christmas. Sometimes I felt really sorry for small children, who probably didn't take all that kind of crush very well. But let's move on to the text and the daily schedule.
Afterwards, we returned to the hotel, where the most important part of Christmas was about to take place: the gift-giving. Naturally, we hadn't brought any large presents with us to Florida, but none of us would be willing to accept small things (in terms of physical size).
I had bought a pair of gold earrings for my mother. I had been watching her closely for weeks, and I noticed that she kept turning to a particular catalog page and staring at that particular pair of earrings. When I handed her the jewelry, she was overjoyed. It's nice when things are made so easy.
Finding something for Reinhardt had been more difficult. Luckily, I'd noticed that he carried his money in a rather ragged wallet. So I had a present for him, too, which he also seemed pleased about. His joy was only slightly dampened when he looked in the change compartment and found a mini tube of stain remover instead of the usual lucky penny. I just couldn't resist...
And for Tim? Well, the best gift would probably have been our own Olympic-sized swimming pool, but I had a vague feeling our small property wasn't big enough for it. So I had a problem. Luckily, I was able to sort it out just in time. I did have to call in a few people for favors, but relationships have to be good for something. So I was able to hand my brother an envelope, which he immediately opened curiously. Then his eyes grew wider and wider.
"Wow! Where did you get THOSE tickets? I was told everything was sold out!"
Judging by the look on his face, I'd hit the jackpot. To explain: While I was sick at the Bergners', I witnessed Tim coming home one day, extremely disappointed. His attempt to get tickets to a mega-concert featuring a variety of current pop stars in February had failed miserably. I wouldn't have thought my shy little brother would be into such mass events, but I suddenly had an idea for a Christmas present for him. A dozen phone calls later, I had two top-of-the-line tickets, including backstage passes. To top it all off, I didn't have to pay a penny for them. Although, of course, I would have paid quite a bit for Tim, too, to be honest.
"Sorry, trade secret."
"That's two tickets. So I hope you're coming with us, right?"
"Do you want me with you? Maybe you can find a better companion."
"Idiot. Of course you're coming. I'm not going to ruin your chance to see the guys from Natural in person."
"Okay, if you say so. Josh, I'm coming!"
"I'd say so. And thank you. It's going to be a great evening!"
Apparently, I had hit the mark with my gifts.
Tim gave his father a chic, expensive-looking pair of sunglasses, which he had obviously been eyeing for a while, but could never bring himself to buy. My mother got a gold necklace that perfectly matched the earrings I had given her. Which was no surprise, since Tim and I had chosen and ordered the items together.
But now, what about me? I tore through the wrapping paper, and underneath it all was... an orange rubber hot water bottle!
"Thank you so much, Tim! You're a truly caring brother."
He grinned at me.
"Sorry, I just couldn't resist. But take a closer look, maybe there's something else in there."
So I did, and sure enough, the hot water bottle felt a bit strange. Shouldn't a rubber thing like that be wobbly? Well, this one wasn't, and upon closer inspection, I could see some glue marks. My patience had run out, and with a strong tug on the filling spout, I dismantled the hot water bottle (with a slightly aching heart – having to destroy something so lovely and warm!). Out popped a CD case, but not an audio CD – no, it belonged to a computer game. More precisely, to the computer game whose release date I had been waiting for for a long time, but then missed because of my illness and then completely forgot about.
"Wow, Tim, thanks! How did you know I wanted the game?"
"Well, some people tend to talk in their fever dreams. So I pieced together a few things, then asked your mother, and I had the perfect Christmas present."
A very attentive listener, the little one. My God, what had I revealed about myself in my feverish sleep phases! Hopefully not too much. But the way Tim smiled at me, that didn't seem to have been the case. Or at least, he didn't care.
So, now things were getting serious. It was time for the "grown-ups" to give gifts to the "little ones." My mother struck a pose.
"Guys, Reinhardt and I thought we'd team up and give each of you a slightly larger gift than usual. Please don't see this as an attempt at bribery. You've truly earned it. Besides, these are things you could really use."
Now my curiosity was even more piqued. A bigger present? Do I hear a car horn? Nope, probably not. That would be a bit too big. It's still a bit early, too. Come on, pick up the pace!
"Okay, Tim, you first!"
The privilege of the younger siblings. Okay. Let's see. However... a larger gift... that's not exactly what it looked like. Rather, it was very small. Another envelope? Perhaps a larger bill? Tim opened the envelope, and the next moment he burst into cheers.
»Wahnsinn! Danke! Genau das, was ich mir schon die ganze Zeit wünsche. Aber war das nicht sehr teuer?«
»Keine Bange, wir können uns das leisten.«
Also langsam würde ich wirklich gerne wissen, wovon hier die Rede war.
»Nun laßt mich mal nicht dumm sterben! Zeig her, kleiner Bruder!«
That's exactly what he did, and the next moment I had a homemade voucher in my hand. A voucher for... a computer! Hmm, that's right, I'd been missing a device like that from him until now. And this new computer would definitely add a vibrant splash of color to our room, since it was a voucher for an Apple iMac. Well, that was almost too good to be true. I used that system too, so not only Tim and I but also our computers would get along well. But I had to say one thing: this gift was even bigger than I expected. What could I expect?
I didn't have to wait long. My package was pressed into my hand, a little larger than Tim's, but not huge. When I unwrapped it, my heart almost stopped, and I stared at my mother and Reinhardt with wide eyes.
"Maria, you know him better than I do. Does that expression mean he's happy or shocked?"
"Probably both."
"Fine. Danny, we were thinking about giving you your present right at the beginning of the holiday, but then we decided against it because of Christmas tradition. But everything's ready for you to get started right away."
My mouth slowly closed again, and I was able to focus my eyes on my present again. It was the latest semi-professional digital camera on the market, easily on par with Tim's new computer in terms of price. Unlike previous models—and current competitor models—this camera actually had the same settings options as a "real" camera, meaning one that uses film.
Now, of course, it was my turn to politely thank them, which I did profusely.
Now only the final act of gift distribution remained. However, if I had thought that this too would go off without a hitch, I was mistaken. Reinhardt began his speech.
"Tim, Danny, you know that this trip serves, among other things, to help us grow together as a family. We, Maria and I, think we've been very successful in doing that. Therefore, we've decided to use today to get engaged in front of the two people who mean the most to us. We very much hope you'll agree."
The two of them looked at us questioningly, almost slightly fearfully. Wow, this really seemed to be the evening of huge surprises! Tim was completely stunned, and it took me a moment to find my words, too.
"Wow, that's awesome! Of course we agree! I certainly do, and you agree too, Tim, right?"
"No question! I think this is the best gift ever. Congratulations!"
"I can only agree. Reinhardt, I'm really glad you're making my mother an honorable woman."
This saying made everyone laugh, and the tension left the faces of our elderly people.
"Phew, thank God! Reinhardt and I were a little worried."
»Kennt ihr uns wirklich so schlecht? Wenn Tim und ich Probleme mit euch hätten, dann hättet ihr das längst bemerkt.«
»Ja, das ist uns jetzt auch klar. Aber wie gesagt, ihr seid für uns die wichtigsten Menschen überhaupt, und da macht man sich halt so seine Gedanken.«
"You should now waste your thoughts on how we can celebrate this event appropriately!"
"Don't worry, Danny, we've thought of that. Everything's ready. We've reserved a table at the restaurant, with champagne and candlelight. So, let's get going."
Reinhardt and my mother wanted to start marching, but Tim stood in their way.
"Um, tell me, isn't there something missing?"
Those he stopped looked at each other questioningly, then a knowing smile spread across their faces. A moment later, they were in each other's arms, kissing passionately and passionately. Again, it was Tim who intervened.
"It's fine, but that's not what I meant. Don't rings belong in a proper engagement?"
Okay, that was like a cold shower. Both of them mentally threw up their hands and then burst into loud laughter.
"My God, Tim is absolutely right. We were so worried about your reaction that we completely forgot about the rings. Of course, they're part of the engagement, too, and we even have them with us!"
"Then you should probably put them on now, too. Then at least all the other people here in the hotel will know they don't have to get their hopes up about any of you anymore."
Hmm, maybe I should just put a ring on my finger. As a sort of Heidi-and-her-colleagues defense mechanism. It's definitely worth further consideration.
But back to the current events. The two apparently hopelessly in love exchanged engagement rings, and once this was done, the kissing scene from a short time ago was repeated. This time, I had my brand-new camera ready and captured the moment for eternity. I also took the camera with me when we made our way to the restaurant. There, it was used again, once with just Mutti and Reinhardt, sitting across from each other at the table, as the subject. A second time, a waiter was kind enough to photograph the entire foursome.
The food was wonderful, and despite strict American laws, Tim and I were also given a glass of champagne to toast. After we'd eaten and clinked our glasses together, I gave my brother a friendly wink.
"Tim, I'd actually like to take a closer look at the camera. Preferably in our room, in peace and quiet. Would you like to come with me?"
Tim looked at me, confused at first, but then with understanding.
"Sure, I'm interested too. Dad, Maria, can you manage without us?"
Of course, the two of them saw through our maneuver without any problem.
"Guys, you don't have to leave because of us."
"I think you could use some time alone. Danny and I are leaving. Take as much time as you want, and we'll just go to bed when we feel like it."
»Na gut. Aber ihr könnt wirklich gerne noch bleiben.«
»Nein, Tim hat recht. Also dann, schönen Abend noch, und gute Nacht.«
We said goodbye, and shortly afterwards Tim and I entered our room.
"So, Tim, the two lovebirds can now go about their business without having to worry about us. I, for one, actually plan to take a closer look at the camera. How about you?"
"Well, I was actually thinking about a relaxing, hot bath in the whirlpool. You're welcome to join us; the place is big enough for half a soccer team."
Uh, oh. It was actually big enough for half a soccer team. But big enough for Tim and me? If I was very lucky, Tim would go swimming in his swim trunks, and that would be just about bearable. But what if he wasn't? Should I back out at the last minute? Questions, questions, questions.
"I'll run some water, you can think about it later."
That's what I did for the next fifteen minutes, while immersing myself in the camera's manual. The latter was truly an amazing device that I would have a lot of fun with. It was like stepping up two entire leagues. I played around a bit, took a few pictures, and admired the results on the mini-monitor. Then it was Tim's turn to startle me again.
"Well, what now, are you coming into the water with me?"
I looked up from the camera and there was my little brother standing in the bathroom doorway, wearing nothing but a white towel. Okay, I couldn't see if he was wearing anything else underneath, but if he was then the towel wouldn't be necessary, right? Two souls were fighting inside me. On the one hand, I wanted to try out the whirlpool anyway. And a naked Tim next to me... well. And that "well" was the other side of the coin. How would I react? I'm particularly talking about reactions that are dictated less by the mind and more by the heart and pleasure center. But Tim wouldn't leave me alone.
"Come on, don't be so shy. There's nothing about you I haven't seen before."
That was undoubtedly true, but there were some things about him I'd never seen before. Still. Chicken out? Me? In front of my little brother? Better not.
"Okay, okay. Jump in, I'll be there in three minutes."
"Before."
He said that and wanted to disappear.
»Tim!«
He stopped in the doorway and turned back to me. I took advantage of this opportunity to quickly snap a picture of him with my new camera. This earned me a grin and the finger. Then he was gone, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts and feelings.
But there was no point; if I didn't show up in the bathroom right away, I'd be making a real fool of myself. So I put the camera aside, got rid of my things, grabbed a fresh towel, wrapped it around my waist, and made my way to the bathroom. There, Tim was sitting up to his neck in the wildly bubbling water, listening to soft music on the radio. Next to him was a bottle of Coke, and opposite him, in the spot he'd probably reserved for me, was another bottle of Coke.
»Da bist du ja endlich. Los, komm rein, das ist einfach herrlich. So ein Ding sollten wir uns zuhause auch zulegen. So richtig entspannend nach der ganzen Rumrennerei der letzten Tage.«
Okay, die letzte Schonfrist war somit abgelaufen. Ich wickelte mich aus dem Handtuch und stieg zu Tim in die Riesen-Wanne. Selbiger beäugte mich interessiert, und ein dickes Grinsen zeigte sich auf seinem Gesicht.
»Was ist?«
"Sorry, I guess I have to apologize. I didn't think you'd actually go through with it."
"Why? I can't back down from my little brother."
The grin grew even wider, and as I sat down and found a good position, Tim stood up and I saw... his swimming trunks!
"Hey! That's unfair!"
"Okay, okay. I'll take them off."
He did, and I cast a few furtive glances toward those parts of my brother's body I hadn't seen yet. Well, I hoped my glances were furtive. In any case, I wasn't disappointed... Shortly afterward, we were sitting opposite each other again.
We spent the next hour relaxing our tired bodies and talking about the past few days and, of course, our future together—so we had plenty to talk about. I, for one, reveled in genuine admiration for my self-control, and little Danny was completely relaxed the whole time.
When we started to feel like we were slowly growing webbed feet, we decided to end the wet evening. We climbed out of the hot tub, and so as not to let my guard down at the last moment, I quickly turned away from Tim. We dried ourselves off and then realized that we had both completely forgotten to bring any clothes into the bathroom. The towels were pretty wet, so they weren't an option. We had no choice but to rush to our room naked as God or whoever had created us. There we decided we should get ready for bed, so we slipped into our pajamas. Just in time, because no sooner had we laid next to each other on Tim's bed, flipping through the local TV channels, than the door opened and the two newly engaged couple walked in. It was unthinkable what a shock they would have gotten if they had arrived at the exact moment two naked teenagers were jumping through the room.
"So, guys, how are you? I hope you weren't bored?"
"Don't worry. Danny and I have been lounging in the hot tub for a while, and now we want to watch a little TV. So, how was your evening?"
"Thank you, very nice. Tim, your father is so romantic! He even brought a violinist to the table, simply wonderful. But you do know you didn't have to disappear, right?"
"Sure, Mom. We didn't have to, but we wanted to."
"Thanks, Danny. Maria, I think we're really lucky to have two boys like that."
"You can say that out loud. Okay, we're leaving. Don't be too long, tomorrow is the last Disney park. Good night!"
The usual goodnight wishes were exchanged, then Tim and I were alone again. We looked at each other and burst out laughing. Apparently, we had been thinking exactly the same thing.
"Hey, Danny, imagine if they'd come in three minutes earlier! That would have been about the most embarrassing thing I can imagine."
"It could have been much worse. Imagine if one of those two had grabbed a camera quickly enough and captured the spectacle for posterity. Try explaining a picture like that to your grandchildren!"
Now Tim started snorting so loudly that he choked on his own saliva and I had to relieve him by tapping him hard on the back.
"You always expect the worst, Danny?"
"That's called life experience, kid. You'll learn that too."
"I've already learned that lesson, thank you."
Damn, I guess I just rubbed salt into open wounds.
"Sorry, Tim, I know. I didn't mean it that way."
"I know. And in a way, it's probably good to be reminded of that every now and then. It makes me appreciate all the more what's happened in the last few weeks. But let's change the subject. Tell me, why were you so reluctant earlier when I invited you to the hot tub?"
Oh my God, the hundred-thousand-dollar question! Now I had to come up with an excuse, really fast. I mean, the honest answer "Because I'm in the middle of falling hopelessly in love with you and didn't want to give myself away" was definitely not a good choice. Okay, let's try that. It's not the truth, but at least it's somewhat logical.
"Uh, well. I didn't want you to feel awkward about it. I mean, I'm gay, and a lot of people aren't comfortable with the idea of being naked in a tub with someone like me..."
"Danny, stop putting yourself down. What do I have to do to make you finally believe that I don't have a problem with this at all? Go with you to the local hot spots?"
I smiled at him a little uncertainly.
"So, once and for all: I don't mind sitting at a table with you. I don't mind lying in a bed with you. And I don't mind sitting naked in a hot tub with you. Got it?"
"All right, all right. I get it. Thanks."
"No need to thank me. Now let's see what's on TV."
We flipped through the channels, most of which were filled with commercials interspersed with short films. I'd probably never complain about German private television and its commercial breaks again. Compared to what was going on here, it was all completely harmless. We ended up on MTV, and while the current charts played, Tim and I browsed Disney information. The next day, the newest installment in Disney's empire was announced: Animal Kingdom.
Then a melody started playing that made me stare at the screen, transfixed. This didn't go unnoticed by the attentive person sitting next to me.
"Hey, Danny, I think you're gay? Then why are you staring at a Britney Spears video?"
"Don't worry, Tim, I haven't suddenly become straight. I'm not looking at the pubescent tween, but at one of her dancers. Here, the one to her left, isn't he cute?"
"The one with the dark hair and blonde highlights?"
"Exactly. The one with the cute smile. Easy to fall in love with."
Tim, like me, watched the rest of the video attentively.
"Hmm. I see what you mean. Well, I think I understand. He's really good-looking. For a boy, I mean."
"Well, I definitely think so. I'd even tolerate having to listen to Spears at the same time for this sight."
"Okay, so that explains what type of boy you're into. But he's not blond, like you said a few days ago!"
»Aber zumindest hat er blonden Strähnchen. Außerdem, wenn der Rest stimmt, könnte ich sogar über rote Haare hinwegsehen.«
»Anscheindend bist doch nicht ganz so wählerisch. Zum Glück. Damit dürften deine Chancen wieder steigen.«
»Das will ich doch auch hoffen!«
Lange haben wir dann nicht mehr durchgehalten, und kurz darauf war der Fernseher aus, und wir rutschen langsam hinüber ins Traumland. Jeder in seinem eigenen Bett.

---

The rest of the Florida trip passed – as is usual on such occasions – far too quickly. Not everything was always as well organized as the first few days in Orlando. Sometimes it wasn't easy to find a room, especially since over the holidays and New Year's, all of America and half the rest of the world seemed to have come up with the idea of traveling to Florida. But we always found somewhere to stay for the night, even if that sometimes meant Tim and I had to share a bed. Or were we allowed to share? In any case, it was always a huge double bed, so we never got too close to each other. Which I was happy about on the one hand, but also a little sorry about on the other.
Mutti and Reinhardt were floating on cloud nine, a permanent smile on their faces. They didn't refuse Tim and me a single request, and we had to pull ourselves together not to take excessive advantage of it. For my part, I was spared further Heidi-style attacks—and without having to follow Tim's suggestions regarding my transformation into a super-faggot.
After Disney's Animal Kingdom—highly recommended, in some ways actually the most interesting Disney park—we visited the Kennedy Space Center. Here, we truly realized how enormous the rockets that were hurled into space by human hands are. Standing beneath a lying Apollo rocket, we suddenly felt quite tiny.
Then we headed down the coast, via Ft. Lauderdale and the Keys to the southernmost tip of the continental USA – Key West. The drive over the miles of bridges was an experience in itself. On many of the islands, the scars of the last hurricane were still visible. As beautiful as the area was, it wasn't a permanent residence for me. Key West itself was magnificent. We climbed the old lighthouse, visited Hemingway's house, took a city tour on the Conch Train, and gathered with hundreds or thousands of others in the evening for sunset at Mallory Square. This was one of the most beautiful natural spectacles I had ever witnessed. Slightly clouded skies, the water filled with sailing ships, cameras clicking and buzzing all around. The red ball sank ever lower, and my mother couldn't resist the famous Saxon sunset saying: "Look, I'll see you again!"
The sun actually "did" into the water, and the crowd's attention now turned to the numerous cabaret artists. Mimes, fire-eaters, and others vied for the favor of the dollar-bill-handling audience. We slowly made our way back to the hotel along the famous Duval Street, with all its shops (which probably deserved the name tourist trap) and bars. Oh, by the way, the absolute southernmost point, from which, on a clear day, one could supposedly see the smoking cigar of the cheerful Castro, was actually a rather ugly place. Located right next to a military base, half-blocked by a wire fence, stood the colorful monument marking the "Southernmost Point of the Continental USA" – and popularly nicknamed the "Giant Dildo."
We then headed back north via the Everglades (highly recommended for all nature lovers and photography enthusiasts) and the Gulf Coast (the old port of Naples is worth a visit) back to Orlando, where we unfortunately couldn't avoid boarding the plane back to cold Germany.

---

We made it! We'd arrived home safely. What a change that was! Just twelve hours ago, we'd experienced Orlando in shorts at a pleasant 24°C – now, as we left Berlin Airport, my teeth started chattering uncontrollably. 12 degrees below zero and a sleet swirl! Luckily, we'd already changed before departure, so we were dressed somewhat appropriately for the weather. For my part, I was still about to immediately invest my entire "fortune" in a ticket back to Florida. Without a return flight, of course.
Half an hour later, we were in the car and began our three-hour drive home. A three-hour drive, if nothing went wrong. To our surprise, however, despite the terrible weather, we were spared traffic jams and accidents, and Reinhardt was driving according to the motto "Better home a little later than a little early in the hospital." Or even in the cemetery.
Als wir uns unserer Heimatstadt bis auf wenige Kilometer genähert hatten und von der Autobahn abfuhren, wandte sich der Fahrer an seine Passagiere.
»Was haltet ihr davon, wenn wir zuerst zu uns fahren und dort gemütlich zusammen Abendbrot essen. Oder wollt ihr zwei sofort zu euch?«
Wir beratschlagten ein wenig hin und her und kamen zu dem Ergebnis, daß wir uns dieses Stündchen durchaus leisten konnten. Das Kofferauspacken würde uns vermutlich nicht davonlaufen.
As we turned into the Bergners' street, we could see from afar that their house had somehow changed. As we got closer, we realized that the beautiful, freshly whitewashed facade looked dirty gray to black in various places. In front of the house was both a police car and a fire engine. How Reinhardt managed to pull the car over safely on the side of the road still eludes me. We got out, and the two Bergners stared in amazement at what had recently been a perfectly renovated Wilhelminian-era house. As we stood there shaking our heads, the front door opened, and an elderly woman stepped out onto the street, accompanied by several uniformed officers.
"But there's Mr. Bergner! I told you he's coming back from America today."
Then she rushed towards us.
"Mr. Bergner! It's good that you're here, it's so terrible!"
She was downright hysterical. Reinhardt tried to calm her down a bit—but was he the right person to do that in the current situation?
"Mrs. Schmidt, it's okay. What about..."
"This is all so terrible! Poor Mr. Wansmann! My God, how will this continue?"
Reinhardt quickly realized that nothing really meaningful could be extracted from this woman. Fortunately, one of the uniformed officers joined us.
"Good evening. I'm Chief Inspector Flander. Are you Mr. Bergner, the owner of the apartment on the third floor on the left?"
"This is me, good evening. Could you please tell me what happened here?"
"Of course. Two days ago, during the night from Thursday to Friday, a fire broke out in the apartment below you, which then spread through the windows into some rooms of your apartment. Unfortunately, the tenant of the apartment could only be recovered dead. As harsh as this may sound, you were very lucky not to be here. The fire spread incredibly quickly—who knows if you would have gotten out of your apartment safely."
"What does the apartment look like?"
"I'm afraid not very well. All the rooms on the street side were damaged by the fire, and the others were at least damaged by water used to extinguish the fire. The fire department had quite a job keeping the flames away from the rest of the house."
I quickly went through in my mind what the man in green had listed. The rooms facing the street were the living room, the kitchen, and Reinhardt's bedroom. At the back were the study, the bathroom, and Tim's little kingdom.
"Can we go into the apartment, or is it locked?"
"I just spoke to the fire investigator from the fire department; he's cleared the apartment. However, you probably won't be able to live there for quite some time. But at least you can get your most important things out. The fire department had to break down the door the night of the fire; we've temporarily locked it, but I would recommend you remove all valuables from the apartment and have a proper door installed as soon as possible."
»Wie ist es zu dem Brand gekommen?«
»Im Moment deutet alles darauf hin, daß der Mieter unter ihnen mit einer brennenden Zigarette eingeschlafen ist. Das ist etwas, was die Leute wohl nie lernen werden.«
Amen. Ich hatte ein einziges Mal an einer Zigarette gezogen – danach war mir dermaßen kotzübel gewesen, daß mir diese Erfahrung für den Rest meines Lebens ausreichte.
The inspector handed Reinhardt the key, and in silence we made our way up to the third floor. The building reeked of smoke, and the walls were damp and partially icy. The policeman was right: no one would be living here anytime soon.
Once upstairs, Reinhardt opened the door, made of a patchwork of different boards, and we all pushed through shortly afterwards. Things looked even worse here. A quick walk through the rooms, and it was clear to all of us that Tim and his father had lost virtually everything. Where the fire hadn't raged, the extinguishing water had done its work. Technical equipment, furniture, books—everything was gone. At most, a few textiles would dry out; everything else was a matter for insurance. My God, I hoped these two were properly insured!
The two inhabitants of this pile of rubble stood in the corridor like a miserable heap, still unable to comprehend what had happened. My mother went over to them and wrapped her arm around each of them. Good idea. I followed her and did the same from the other side.
"Reinhardt, Tim, we can do this. Together. You'll stay with us, of course; we were planning to move in together in the next few weeks anyway."
The shock slowly began to sink in for father and son, and tears were now visible on both of them. With great effort, Reinhardt managed to pull himself out of his shock.
"You're right. Tim, don't worry, everything will be fine. Maria, Danny, thank you for taking us in. We should start packing up the most important things that can still be saved. I'm going to the study; all the documents should have survived all right in the safe. Tim, go to your room and see if you can find anything there you'd like to take with you."
"I'll come with you, Reinhardt. Danny, will you accompany Tim?"
Of course, I would never expect the little one to go through this alone. We walked together the path I had taken so many times during my illness. In front of the closed door, Tim gathered all his courage. Then he pushed the handle, the door swung open, and we entered the room, or rather, what was left of it.
As my friend and helper had said, there wasn't much of a fire to be seen here, but the carpet squeaked wetly beneath our feet, a fine film of ice glittered on the walls and cupboards, and the bed I'd spent so many nights in was nothing more than a wet lump of fabric and feathers. And just as I was getting my first look, Tim collapsed. I was just in time to grab him, otherwise he would have been lying on the sodden floor the next moment.
"Hey, Tim, come on. It's not that bad. We'll get through this, okay?"
Normally I would have sat him down somewhere, but none of the furniture looked particularly trustworthy, so I held him in my arms instead. I'd always wanted to do that, but certainly not under these circumstances. After a few minutes, he had cried on my shoulder, and his legs were able to hold him upright again. With unsteady steps, he worked his way through the rubble; a shelf had been blown apart by the freezing firewater and now lay in pieces on the floor. While Tim packed his trophies and medals into a frozen-stiff cloth bag, I stayed close to him as a precaution, lest he try to take off again. After a while, he looked around the room again.
"Do you have everything, or is there anything important missing?"
"I think I've got it all. Damn it, Danny, why did this have to happen to us?"
"I don't know, little brother. But the policeman was right. It could have been much worse. Imagine if you had been here when the fire started. Most of what was broken here can be replaced—your life cannot. And I have no idea how Mom and I would go on without you."
Tim looked at me with tear-stained eyes. Then he fell into my arms again.
"Thanks, Danny. You're right. Let's go."
Without turning around again, we left the room, and practically at the same moment, Mutti and Reinhardt came out of the study, Reinhardt with a large steel box in his hands.
When my mother saw Tim's condition, she immediately rushed to him and took him in her arms, while I quickly accompanied his father through the rooms he hadn't seen yet. When we reached Tim's room, he shook his head sadly.
"Was it very bad for Tim?"
"He almost dumped me once, but I hope he's over it now. And how are you?"
"Not much better. Okay, nothing happened to us, and the insurance will cover the damage. Still, there are a lot of memories attached to this place. I would have preferred a normal move."
"Sure."
"Anyway, I'm glad we have you both. That way we still have a future to look forward to."
"Thanks. I think we should get going. The sooner we get out of here, the better."
"Right. Let's go."
We gathered the other two in the hallway, left the apartment, barricaded the entrance, and then walked down to the car. Without saying a word, my mother and I agreed that she would sit behind Tim and I would take the passenger seat.
The drive home was very quiet; only Tim's sobs and my mother's soothing words could be heard from behind. Once home, we quickly unloaded the car, and I helped Tim bring his things into my room. Although it would probably be better to call it our room now. I made some space in my closet, and that's when the next problem came to mind. Both Tim and his father suddenly found themselves without any winter clothes, aside from what they were wearing. The suitcases contained only summer clothes suitable for Florida. Okay, I could help out with Tim, but there certainly wasn't a single suitable item of clothing for Reinhardt in the entire house.
While I was doing this, Tim lay more or less apathetically on his bed. I went over and sat down next to him.
"Hold me tight, please."
I couldn't say no, but the situation—he lying down and me sitting—wasn't particularly conducive to that. So I gently pushed him aside and lay down next to him. Then I did what he asked, and after about half an hour, he had cried himself to sleep. Carefully, I wriggled out of his grasp, stood up, and—leaving the bedroom door wide open—went downstairs to the living room, where Mom and Reinhardt were busy planning how to deal with the disaster.
»Da bist du ja. Wie geht es Tim?«
"He's sleeping. I left the door wide open so he can hear us and know he's not alone."
"Good. Reinhardt called his homeroom teacher and excused him for now. I'll also be staying away from the office for a few days."
"And what about me? Are you calling my school too?"
"No way. You've already missed enough before Christmas. Besides, unlike Tim, you don't have that far to go to school. From here, I mean. We definitely won't have time to drive him there and pick him up every day next week."
Great. But hey, they'd just have to get by without my active help. They'd see what they got out of it. Reinhardt then called his insurance agent and arranged a meeting at the old apartment for the next day. Then we started tackling the most pressing problems.
"So, the sleep problem is solved. Let's move on to the next point. Danny, you'll have to help Tim out with winter clothes for the next few days until we have enough for him."
"No problem, I've already thought of that. But what about you, Reinhardt?"
"Well, I'll have to make do with what I have on. We'll go shopping first thing Monday morning."
We discussed a few more points, but many things could only be completed on a business day. So we decided to put the matter to rest for the time being.
"Men, I'm going to make us dinner now. I realize you might not have much of an appetite, but for what lies ahead, we need all the strength we can get. So let's eat."
We would have been pretty foolish to resist. While Mom threw frozen pizza and herb baguettes into the oven, Reinhardt and I set the table. Once that was done, we sat down at the kitchen table and tried to distract ourselves by talking about Florida. When a certain aroma wafted from the oven, Mom sent me upstairs to get Tim for dinner. So I wandered upstairs. Tim was still lying in bed exactly as I had left him. I crouched down on the edge of the bed again and gently shook his shoulder.
"Tim. Hey, Tim, wake up. There's food on the table."
It took me several attempts to wake him up, and even more to convince him that he needed to eat. When we showed up in the kitchen together, the plates were already filled. Dinner wasn't particularly cheerful; Tim, in particular, was very upset by it all, and our attempts to cheer him up at least a little didn't have much success.
Then the plates and glasses were empty, and we talked about what to do with the rest of the evening. Mom and Reinhardt wanted to go over insurance policies and similar things, and Tim announced that he would take a quick shower and then go straight to bed. I realized I was pretty tired too—no wonder after the flight and all the other stress.
"I agree with Tim. The day has been long and exciting, and we'll have plenty to do tomorrow."
Tim schaute mich dankbar an, die Idee alleine zu sein, wenn auch nur für kurze Zeit, erschien ihm wohl im Moment alles andere als angenehm. Auch meine Mutter war offenbar dieser Ansicht.
»Das ist gut, da kannst du dich gleich ein wenig um ihn kümmern. Suchst du ihm bitte einen Schlafanzug von dir raus?«
»Okay.«
"Wait, guys, not so fast! Pajamas, I just remembered something. I completely forgot about that in all the excitement!"
With a beaming face I hadn't seen since discovering the disaster, Reinhardt jumped up from the table and rushed out of the kitchen. When he returned, he had one of his duffel bags in his hand.
"Danny, because you're always so cold, I bought you a very special gift in Florida. Since you wouldn't have been able to use it there anyway, you're getting it here."
He rummaged in his pocket, then pulled out a dark blue bundle of cloth and handed it to me.
"Here you go, I hope this solves all your nighttime cold problems!"
Hmm, I was really intrigued. I unfolded the fluffy, soft, fleece-like material, and it turned out to be... a very special pair of pajamas! If you often watch American films, you've probably seen something like this before – even if not necessarily in this size. It was a one-piece, with a long zipper up the front for stepping into. That was funny enough, but it got even better. The legs didn't end in holes for your feet to go through, but in sewn-on stockings with studded rubber soles! I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing and could only hope that the others didn't hold it against me, given the still pretty crappy overall situation. But it didn't look like it, because shortly afterwards I was no longer the only one laughing out loud. Even Tim joined in!
"Great, Danny, I have a big brother who sleeps in a romper suit!"
His father shook his head slightly reproachfully.
"Tim, this isn't a baby suit, it's just regular pajamas. I bought it at a regular department store. Also, don't laugh too soon. Look what I have here."
Reinhardt took another bundle of fabric – this time in light blue – out of his pocket and handed it to his son.
"After all, I don't want you to be jealous of Danny."
Now Tim looked a little puzzled – a sight that immediately made us laugh again.
"Don't take it so hard, little brother. That solves part of your missing clothes problem, and you probably won't catch a cold at night anytime soon. Come on, let's go upstairs."
I thanked Reinhardt and said goodbye to him and Mom for the night, closely followed by Tim, who wasn't quite sure what to make of the whole thing. Then we went upstairs, I threw the present on my bed, and then looked at Tim.
"Are you going to take a shower first?"
"Okay. I'll just quickly unpack my toiletries."
While he was doing that, I got him some towels, and shortly after, he was on his way to the bathroom.
"Don't forget your nice new pajamas!"
He laughed quietly to himself. A good start.
"I won't wear it until I see you in yours."
"Okay, whatever you say. Then maybe I should take a shower first, otherwise you'll have to change several times."
"Right. Go on, I'll unpack a few things in the meantime."
Fine. I grabbed the item of clothing and headed for the bathroom, and shortly thereafter, I was standing under the pleasantly warm stream of water. This time, I even managed to keep up with the timing, and less than fifteen minutes later, I made my grand entrance in front of Tim. Putting on Reinhardt's present was quite unusual at first, but I quickly figured out the best way, and as I zipped it up, I had to agree with Tim's father: I'd definitely never be cold in that thing again!
The rubber soles allowed me to skip wearing my regular slippers. I picked them up along with my day clothes and left the bathroom. Outside, Tim had unpacked one of his bags and was now sitting on my computer chair. I got rid of what I had in my hands, then stood in front of my brother and spun around twice.
"Voilá! So, how do I look?"
Tim giggled quietly.
"Like a giant baby."
"Well then, go ahead, our parents will probably come and see us again soon, and they'll probably want to find two giant babies."
"Okay, okay. I'll put this thing on. Is it as warm as it looks?"
»Nein. Noch viel wärmer. Genau richtig für mich.«
»Warum bist du eigentlich wieder aus Florida mit uns zurückgekommen?«
»Nur wegen dir, Bruderherz, nur wegen dir.«
Ups, hoffentlich hatte ich damit nicht zuviel preisgegeben. Aber egal, wenn es ihn ein wenig aufmunterte… Und das tat es, denn das Lächeln, welches sich bei meinem Anblick in seinem Gesicht gerührt hatte, war auch weiterhin zu sehen. Viel besser als sein verweintes Gesicht von vorhin. Tim griff nun nach seinem Geschenk und wanderte ins Badezimmer, ich setzte mich an den Computer und schaltete diesen ein. Mal schaun, was sich so an eMails angesammelt hatte. Die Verbindung wurde aufgebaut, dann machten sich 308 eMails auf den Weg zu meiner Festplatte. Also entweder war da jemand sehr fleißig gewesen, oder meine Eintragung in viele Newsletter rächte sich jetzt bitterlich. Gerade als die Übertragung in den letzten Zügen lag, klopfte es an die Zimmertür, und nach einem kurzen Zögern ging diese auf und meine Mutter samt zukünftigem Ehemann betraten den Raum.
Als sie mich in meinem Sessel sitzen sahen, angetan mit Reinhardts flauschigem Geschenk, lachten beide lauthals. Ein Geräusch, welches wir wohl an diesem Tag alle bitter nötig hatten.
»Na, Danny, habe ich dir das richtige Geschenk ausgesucht?«
»Allerdings, vielen Dank.«
»Freut mich. Jetzt bin ich bloß gespannt, ob mein Sohnemann seins auch anzieht.«
»Klein-Timmy hat es jedenfalls angekündigt.«
»Huh, Klein-Timmy? Laß ihn das bloß nicht hören!«
»Was soll ich nicht hören?«
Beinahe unbemerkt war die Badezimmertür aufgegangen, und derjenige über den wir gerade gesprochen hatten, marschierte ins Zimmer. Seine Aufmachung unterschied sich nur durch das hellere Blau von der meinigen. Meine Mutter guckte ganz verzückt.
»Ach wie süüüüüüß! Wenn ich euch so sehe, könnte ich mir glatt wünschen, daß ihr beide zehn Jahre jünger wärt. Kommt zu Mutti, meine Kleinen!«
Tim und ich schauten uns an und grinsten kopfschüttelnd.
»Reinhardt, sie wollen nicht! Das ist das Schlimmste mit Kindern: irgendwann werden sie groß und selbständig. Bald werden die beiden uns nicht mehr brauchen.«
Das konnte ich natürlich nicht so stehenlassen.
»Ach Mutsch, mach dir da mal keine Sorgen. Wir werden dich immer brauchen.«
"Really?"
"Of course. Who else is going to cook our food?"
"You scoundrel!"
"Besides, if Tim and I ever really don't need you anymore, you still have Reinhardt. Just washing his dirty laundry should keep you pretty busy."
Now everyone laughed. Until my mother, with great effort, managed to put on a serious face.
"I think my parenting has failed. Now other methods are called for. Since our children aren't out of their romper years yet, there's still hope. Reinhardt, as difficult as this request is for me, would you please put our eldest over your knee and teach him some manners?"
Tim's father tried to put on an appropriate expression.
"I'm not in favor of corporal punishment, but if there's no respect for one's own mother, I guess I'll have to forget my principles for once. Besides, you're setting a bad example for your little brother. I don't want you to ruin him too. Boy, come here and take your punishment like a man."
Never! With a wild leap, I jumped out of the chair and sprinted toward the bedroom door. Or rather, I wanted to sprint toward the bedroom door, but unfortunately, the giant Reinhardt was more agile than I had expected and grabbed me around the waist in a single swift movement. Now I could kick as much as I wanted; there was no escape. All my efforts to free myself made about the same impression on him as a mosquito bite, and shortly thereafter, he sat down on my bed—still holding me firmly in his grip—and I found myself actually lying across his knees, my backside stretched out into the air. A quick glance around showed me that everyone present—except me, of course—was laughing until they cried. I looked Reinhardt in the eyes.
"You're not really going to do that, are you?"
He raised his right hand. Right paw was probably a better choice.
"Oh but."
The hand whistled down, and I mentally and morally prepared myself for impact. Just before impact, however, Reinhardt stopped the blow. He looked at my mother.
"Hey, Maria, I'm afraid the boy is still too small and too delicate for a spanking. I think I'd rather do it differently."
Oh God, what kind of devilish idea had he hatched? I should know about it immediately.
"Maybe it'll be enough if I give him a good tickle. It's always worked for Tim."
And that's exactly what he did, and after a few seconds, I was convinced that a spanking would have been a better alternative. Did I mention that I'm extremely ticklish? I writhed back and forth under his attacks, but escape was impossible. Now tears of laughter welled up in my eyes, too, and I was sure I couldn't hold out much longer. Gasping, I screamed my surrender.
»Reinhardt, hör auf, ich … haha … ich verspreche in Zukunft auch immer brav zu … hihihi … brav zu sein!«
»Warum sollte ich aufhören, wo es gerade soviel Spaß macht?«
»Weil … hihi … weil ich mir sonst in die Hosen mache und dein schönes … hahaha … dein schönes Geschenk versaue.«
»Das ist natürlich ein Argument. Das einzige, welches ich gelten lassen kann.«
Und tatsächlich stellte er die Tortur ein. Nach Luft schnappend kam ich zur Ruhe, immer noch über seinen Knien liegend.
»Wirst du in Zukunft deine Mutter mit Respekt behandeln?«
»Ja!«
"That's not enough. Do you promise?"
"I promise, solemnly!"
"Maria, is his promise enough for you?"
My mother could hardly stand on her feet from laughing.
"I think so. For starters. If he needs this lesson again, surely you're available again, Reinhardt?"
"Of course. Okay, then I won't be like that and let mercy prevail over justice. Tim, I hope you were watching carefully. You too should behave yourself, or the same thing will happen to you as happened to your big brother."
Phew, I made it. Reinhardt still hadn't released me, though.
"There was something else? Oh yeah, I almost forgot."
He said that, and the next moment his hand actually landed on my backside.
"Ouch!"
Well, okay, not ouch. That was probably more of a shock, because what started as a hard, painful blow when I swung it back ended in a friendly slap, which was even softened by the thick fabric of my "romper." Reinhardt, however, was impressed by my outcry. He immediately let go of me, and I stood up, briefly rubbing my bottom.
"Did I hurt you?"
Uh, he looked really worried. I had no choice but to give him a reassuring smile.
"No, just my pride is a little bruised."
"Well, that's good then. Now, you two, off to bed. We have a lot to do tomorrow."
Tim and I dutifully lay down in our beds (after all, I didn't want to risk another beating *g*). Before that, I turned off the computer, and both parents, now finally catching their breath, went around and wished us goodnight. Something happened that I hadn't experienced in about five years. My mother kissed Tim and then me on the cheek. I wonder if it was because of the strange pajamas? She hadn't been tempted to do such a thing in years. Reinhardt leaned over me too, but he refrained from doing what my mother did. Instead, he whispered something in my ear.
"Thanks for playing. Sorry."
Then the two left the room, opening the window a crack, turning off the light, and closing the door. Wow, what a day.
We lay in bed in silence for a while, knowing we wouldn't be able to fall asleep so quickly. Then Tim spoke up.
»Danny, bist du noch wach?«
»Yep.«
»War es sehr schlimm?«
»Was?«
»Die Kitzelei.«
»Ehrliche Antwort?«
»Ja.«
»Es war fürchterlich. Und gleichzeitig lustig. Hat er das bei dir auch schon gemacht?«
"Yes. Although he never put me over his knee."
"Does this happen often?"
"Do I hear fear in your voice?"
"Nope, I just want to be prepared."
"Don't worry. Twice a year at most."
Phew, now I was a little reassured.
"I'm going to try to sleep now. Good night, Danny."
"Same to you."
I turned toward the wall. Cold winter air streamed into the room, and I snuggled into my duvet. Unfortunately, the Sandman hadn't mixed any sleeping sand into the winter air, and I just couldn't fall asleep. The events of the day were running through my head, and from the noises from across the room, I could tell Tim was feeling the same way. Unlike me, however, he was tossing and turning. I felt truly sorry for the poor guy; the vacation had ended completely differently than we had imagined.
Time passed extremely slowly. I desperately tried to fall asleep, growing more tired with every chime of the church bell, but sleep still wouldn't come. At some point around twelve o'clock, I heard a whisper.
»Danny?«
So Tim had the same problem as me.
»And?«
"Can't you fall asleep either?"
"It certainly looks that way."
"Danny, can I... may I..."
»Was?«
"Can I come over to your place?"
Uh oh. In any other context, I would have jumped for joy, but as it was, I knew full well that Tim "just" needed someone to hold on to. And considering my trouble falling asleep, I seemed to be feeling the same way.
"Okay, come over here. This is going to be pretty tight."
We'd already slept in the same bed a few times in Florida, but those had been huge double beds and not a narrow towel like mine. It wouldn't work here without close (very close!) physical contact. Tim had reached me in just a few steps.
»Dann mußt du mich halt gut festhalten, damit ich nicht rausfalle.«
»Okay. Möchtest du an der Wand oder lieber vorne liegen?«
»Vorne.«
Ich rutschte so weit es ging an die Wand, hob die Bettdecke, und Tim schlüpfte darunter. Im nächsten Moment lag er neben mir und tat etwas, was ich wirklich nicht erwartet hatte. Offensicht angestiftet vom Gute-Nacht-Kuß meiner Mutter preßte er seine Lippen auf meine Stirn.
»Danke, Danny.«
Dann drehte er sich von mir weg und preßte seinen Körper dicht an den meinigen. Da hatte anscheinend jemand ganz gewaltiges Vertrauen in mich. Und ich würde es garantiert nicht enttäuschen! Ich legte meinen linken Arm vorsichtig um Tims Oberkörper – schließlich wollte ich um jeden Preis vermeiden, daß er tatsächlich aus dem Bett kullerte – und kuschelte mich ins Kopfkissen. Tja, und das tat es dann wohl, wenige Minuten später erkannte ich an Tims gleichmäßigen Atemzügen, daß er eingeschlafen war, und ich folgte ihm innerhalb kürzester Zeit.

---

Zum ersten Mal wach wurde ich nach Auskunft des Weckers gegen sieben. Im Zimmer hatte sich eine herrlich klare, kalte Winterluft versammelt, mir jedoch war alles andere als kalt, was wohl zu gleichen Teilen an Reinhardts Geschenk und am warmen Körper des Jungen neben mir lag. Im Laufe der Nacht hatte ich mich auf den Rücken gedreht, und auch Tim hatte die Nacht nicht völlig ruhig verbracht. Er hatte sich komplett zu mir gewendet, und mittlerweile lag sein Kopf auf meiner Brust und sein rechter Arm hielt mich fest umschlungen. Mein rechter Arm lag unter Tim, eine etwas gewöhnungsbedürftige und nicht sonderlich bequeme Haltung. Aber ich würde einen Teufel tun und den Kleinen deshalb aufwecken! Mit meiner freien linken Hand strich ihm ein paar Mal sanft über den Kopf, und im nächsten Moment war ich auch wieder eingeschlafen.
Das nächste Aufwachen sollte nicht so friedlich verlaufen. Irgendwann war mir so, als hätte ich kurz die Zimmertür klappern gehört, aber ich war wohl noch zu sehr im Dusel, um dem größere Bedeutung beizumessen. Dummer Fehler!
Kurz danach blitzte es plötzlich im Zimmer, so hell, daß es durch meine geschlossenen Augenlider drang. Leise fluchend öffnete ich diese, und mit noch nicht sonderlich klarem Blick versuchte ich auszumachen, was hier passierte. Lange brauchte ich nicht zu suchen. Direkt am Zimmereingang standen Mutti, Reinhardt, und zu allem Überfluß auch noch Thomas. Reinhardt hielt seine Digiknipse in den Händen (meine war noch nicht ausgepackt) – damit war wohl auch der Blitz erklärt. Ein dickes, breites Grinsen war auf allen Gesichtern zu sehen. Ich leckte mir kurz über meine leicht ausgetrockneten Lippen, dann fühlte ich mich in der Lage, ein paar Worte herauszubringen.
»Kann man denn hier nicht einmal zum Sonntag ungestört ausschlafen?«
Mutti lachte.
»Tut mir leid, Schlafmütze, aber wir haben heute einiges zu erledigen. Also wecke deinen Bruder, und dann raus mit euch aus den Federn! Das Frühstück ist in zwanzig Minuten fertig.«
Mit diesen Worten zogen sie und Reinhardt ab, Thomas jedoch blieb da und schloß erst die Tür und dann das Fenster.
»Mensch ist das kalt bei euch. So könnte ich nicht schlafen.«
All the commotion had now woken Tim up, and after a few tentative movements, he mumbled to himself in a slightly disgruntled voice.
"Do we really have to go out already? We just went to bed."
I was pleased to note that we were once again in agreement. Nevertheless, I unfortunately couldn't spare him.
"I'm sorry, little one, but it has to be done. Look, you can stay lying down for a few more minutes, I'll go through the bathroom first."
»Okay.«
He laid his head back on my chest. As hard as it was for me, he couldn't stay there.
»Tim.«
"What else is there?"
"Could you possibly let me out?"
He was a little confused at first, but then he understood the situation and giggled quietly.
»If it absolutely has to be...«
He let go of me and rolled off me, so that with a little effort I could step over him and get out of bed. I grabbed my things and headed for the bathroom, and only halfway there did I notice Thomas standing there, stunned and frozen like a pillar of salt, staring at me. After a moment of reflection, I realized the reason. Up until now, Tim and I had been lying under the covers for most of the night, so now Thomas had his first full view of my unusual nightwear. His reaction was certainly understandable.
"Now you see why we don't mind sleeping in the cold?"
Thomas awoke from his stupor.
"Did that thing keep you warm, or Tim?"
"Both. And now, if you'd please clear the way for me, I need to go to the bathroom."
He stepped aside, and I could begin my morning routine. Thomas, however, had no hesitation in following me into the bathroom. Or at least to the door, where he now leaned against the frame.
"If I had known my bed would be free, I would have shown up yesterday and spent the night here."
"Was it that bad again?"
"My middle sister threw a pajama party for her friends, that says it all. Oh yeah, you would have fit in perfectly in your outfit."
"Surely better than you in your nightgown."
"Hey! Today's fashion-conscious, elegant young man wears a nightshirt."
"Where did you get that? From a BRAVO magazine from 100 years ago?"
"From Christine. Or from Andrea? Could have been Jeanette, too."
"Argh, spare me your varied love life!"
"Why, are you jealous?"
"I might have been if you had said Christian, Andreas, and Jean."
"Don't worry, I'll gladly leave them all to you."
In the meantime, I'd finished most of the usual things and was now standing in front of the mirror in my boxer shorts. A glance at the mirror told me I needed to shave again, so I grabbed the necessary tools. This was Thomas's signal that he could now take away my last vestiges of privacy. He came into the bathroom and sat down on the stool. Then he continued speaking in a lowered voice.
"Tell me, is there something going on between you and Tim?"
I sighed. Tim's behavior continued to puzzle me. On the one hand, it was pretty strange for a sixteen-year-old boy to go to sleep cuddled up to another boy, including a goodnight kiss. On the other hand, I was increasingly beginning to suspect that this had absolutely nothing to do with a "sexual orientation" in Tim's case. I rather had the feeling that, because of what he had experienced with his "mother," Tim placed particular value on affection, including physical affection—and that he didn't care at all about what was "according to conventional social norms." I was quite comfortable with that; if I couldn't have him as a "lover," then I at least wanted him as a little brother in need of (brotherly) love. Although, of course, it would be much nicer if there were more possibilities. Hmm, why did everything in my life have to be so complicated?
"Not that I know of."
"So why do I find you cuddled up together like a couple in love in the same bed?"
Apparently, no one had yet found the time to tell Thomas what had happened after our return from winterless Florida, so I took over. When I was finished, I could see from his face that he, too, was quite shocked.
"Wow, that's really intense!"
"Well, after all that, neither of us could fall asleep so easily last night. Tim asked if he could come over, and that's how we both ended up in my bed."
»Und dann konntet ihr schlafen.«
»Genau. Wir haben einfach jemanden gebraucht, der uns das Gefühl gab, nicht alleine zu sein. Aber mehr war da wirklich nicht – nicht daß ich etwas dagegen gehabt hätte. Also nicht unbedingt zu diesem Zeitpunkt, sondern ganz allgemein.«
Unterdessen hatte ich in meinen Sprechpausen das Rasieren hinter mich gebracht, und es war eh an der Zeit, Tim das Feld zu überlassen. Also scheuchte ich Thomas vor mir her aus dem Bad. Mein Brüderchen war wieder fest eingeschlafen, und ich mußte ihn regelrecht aus dem Schlaf reißen, so leid mir das auch tat. Begeistert war er davon nicht, und ich mußte zu den schlimmsten Drohungen greifen, um ihn zur Einsicht zu bewegen.
»Los, raus aus dem Bett, oder muß ich dir mal zeigen wie es ist, durchgekitzelt zu werden?«
Das wirkte, und in einem Affentempo sprintete er ins Bad. Thomas schaute mich fragend an.
»Durchkitzeln?«
»Insider-Witz.«
»Ah ja.«
I slipped into my usual house clothes, then the two of us went down to the kitchen, not without first warning Tim not to dawdle. Arriving there, we found my mother and Reinhardt putting the final touches to breakfast preparations.
"There you are. Will it be long for Tim?"
"If he doesn't fall asleep in front of the sink again, he should show up here in a few minutes."
"Okay, then I'll throw some rolls in the oven. Thomas, will you have breakfast with us?"
"No, thank you, I just came from a similar event."
"But at least you're drinking something, right? Coffee, tea, or cocoa?"
"Tea, if it's not too much work."
"Nonsense. You know I have to do it for Danny anyway. So come on, sit down at the table."
That's exactly what we were about to do when Reinhardt approached me.
"Danny, can you come into the living room for a moment?"
Hmm, what was going on now? I followed him, and shortly afterward we were sitting across from each other at the coffee table.
"Danny, I don't know how best to phrase this, but... Danny, is Tim gay?"
Wow! I really wasn't expecting this bombshell.
"You mean because we were in the same bed?"
"Well, I was a little surprised when Thomas came rushing into the kitchen and said there was something we absolutely had to see."
"Reinhardt, Tim and I slept together. We didn't sleep together. And I honestly have no idea whether Tim's into boys or girls. Besides, even if I did, I couldn't tell you. I think Tim trusts me quite a bit, and I don't want to jeopardize that. So you'll have to ask him yourself, but I don't know if that would be a good idea. At least not right now; he's got enough stress on him right now."
Tim's father slumped a little in his chair.
"Excuse me. You're absolutely right. Tim trusts you unconditionally, and I don't want that trust to be damaged in the slightest by my curiosity. And it's also true that it's certainly better if he takes the first step. If there's a first step to be taken. So please forget that I asked."
"Okay. Thanks."
"Could I still ask you something?"
»Schieß los.«
»Falls er dir irgendwann etwas in dieser Richtung anvertraut, dann sag ihm doch bitte, daß dies nichts, aber auch gar nichts daran ändert, wie sehr ich ihn liebe. Er brauch keine Angst vor meiner Reaktion zu haben.«
»Okay, das werde ich im Hinterkopf behalten. Aber da brauchst du dir wohl eh keine Sorgen zu machen. Schließlich erlebt er jeden Tag, wie du mit mir umgehst. Falls da etwas in dieser Richtung in ihm vorgeht, dann hat er es dir nur deshalb noch nicht gesagt, weil er sich selbst noch nicht sicher ist.«
»Gut, akzeptiert. Noch ein anderer Punkt. Ich hoffe, du bist mir nicht mehr allzu böse wegen gestern abend.«
»Was meinst du? Weshalb sollte ich dir böse sein?«
»Na wegen deiner Bestrafung.«
"Hey, I never felt that way. Quite the opposite, it was funny. And I think we all needed something like that."
"I just want to make sure you know that I would never harm you or Tim."
"Don't worry, I've known that for a long time. You're just not the type for it, and besides, Tim wouldn't love you as much as he does."
"Glad to hear that. So, I think we should slowly head back to the others."
"Okay, I'm starting to get hungry."
"Good. Oh, and just for the record: if Tim turns out to be gay, and if you two... well, you know, become a couple, then I'd be very happy for you."
"I'll remember that."
Arriving in the kitchen, we found the rest of the group seated at the table, just in time for the official start. Tim looked at us questioningly.
"What was so important to discuss early in the morning?"
But now an excuse had to be found very quickly.
"Uh, Reinhardt just apologized again for his corporal punishment last night."
This statement naturally piqued Thomas's curiosity, so Tim told him in detail what I had suffered the day before. My good friend Thomas, in turn, found it so funny that he almost spilled half a cup of tea all over the table.
"I absolutely have to see this in real life! Please let me know in advance if there's a repeat, I just have to see it! I'll bring our video camera along, too."
Oh no, that's all I needed. A day later, copies of the video would be being traded in the schoolyard, and before long, clips would be circulating on the internet. Never!
"No chance! But maybe you can persuade Reinhardt to show you how it's done firsthand."
"He'd have to give me a pair of pajamas first."
"What do you think, Reinhardt, can you arrange this?"
Tim's father grinned to himself.
"Sure. There's probably a source online. What was that, did I understand correctly? If you have this thing, can I use you as a demonstration object for my disobedient offspring? Or was that just an empty promise?"
Thomas alternated between turning white and red. He was already used to a fair amount of sharp-tongued behavior from Mom and me, but he probably hadn't expected Reinhardt to join in right away.
"Wow, the right people have really found each other. I'll probably have to be even more careful about what I say in this house in the future. And yes, that was just an empty promise."
"Injury."
Tim said what we were all thinking (except Thomas, of course). Then we turned to breakfast, and Mom started assigning the tasks for the day.
»Reinhardt, Tim und ich werden nachher in die ausgebrannte Wohnung fahren und uns dort mit dem Versicherungsheini treffen. Wir nehmen ein paar große Müllsäcke mit und werden mal sehen, ob wir zumindest von der Kleidung irgendwas retten können. Tim, fühlst du dich dem gewachsen?«
»Ich werde es überleben. Nachdem ich drüber geschlafen habe, kommt es mir schon nicht mehr ganz so schlimm vor.«
"Good. Danny, would you please take your room... wrong. Would you please take your room and make room for Tim? For example, you could move your summer clothes into the closet in the guest room; you won't be needing them for the next few months anyway. And maybe clear a corner of your desk. I know you like to keep your computer stuff together in one place, but Tim won't need much space for homework, etc."
"Okay, I'll take care of it. The space will be shared fraternally."
"Very good."
"Danny, if you don't mind, I'll stay here and help you."
Hmm, at least things wouldn't be boring with Thomas. Whether we'd get much work done was another question. But whatever, we just had to pull ourselves together a bit. What do I mean by that? Well, the last time Thomas was supposed to help me with something, we were bogged down in front of the computer. Four hours later, we'd made considerable progress in our simulation game, but the curtain rod we were installing was still lying completely untouched on the bedroom floor. My mother also looked a little skeptical, but refrained from making any comment.
And so it happened that half an hour later, Thomas and I were standing undecided in the children's room (I'll just call it that; constantly saying "Tim's and my room" gets too much work for me after a while – which doesn't mean, of course, that I still consider myself a child!), wondering where we should start. Thomas was the first to have an idea, a typical Thomas idea: work for me, pleasure for him. Okay, it really wasn't that bad, but sometimes he did have the habit of delegating chores. Of course, he always found a good reason for it. A born politician.
"Since you're the one who knows the closets, I'd say you rearrange things and I'll take care of the painting."
The picture. By that, he meant the photo of Tim and me that Reinhardt had taken earlier that day. Before he and Mutti and Tim set off for the fire scene, the photographer had handed us the camera with the order to make a few nice prints. Under threat of the most draconian penalties if we treacherously destroyed the evidence.
"You just want to be able to print it out yourself unnoticed. And then tomorrow it'll make the rounds at school."
"Don't worry, he won't make the rounds. He'll just sit quietly on the bulletin board and not budge."
"Don't get any stupid ideas. I'll assign you the paper, and then I'll count it afterwards."
"Go ahead. I'll just email the picture to myself and print it there."
"You'd need access to my email program to do that, and I certainly won't tell you the password."
"No problem, I'll just use the browser and send the image via Hotmail."
Oh God, I was really in a dilemma. I would either have to delete the picture immediately and expose myself to Reinhardt's punishment, or I would have to live with having no control over what Thomas did with the picture. In the end, I decided to at least trust Thomas enough not to do anything with it that might make me uncomfortable. I mean, otherwise he wouldn't be my best friend, would he?
»Okay, okay. Du weißt ja wie alles funktioniert, also mach los.«
Während Thomas nun die verschiedenen Geräte einschaltete und es sich auf meinem Computersessel bequem machte, öffnete ich meinen großen Kleiderschrank und versuchte, mir einen Überblick über dessen Inhalt zu verschaffen. Nach einer Weile kam ich zu der Überzeugung, daß ich mit ein wenig gutem Willen reichlich Platz für Tims Sachen freiräumen konnte. Für die Sachen, welche erst wieder gekauft werden müßten.
Die nächste knappe Stunde verbrachte ich damit, Sommerhemden, T-Shirts, Badehosen, kurze Hosen und ähnliche Dinge ins Gästezimmer zu befördern, und das, was weiter im Schrank bleiben würde, so zu sortieren, daß zwei gut abgeteilte Bereiche im Schrank entstanden. Thomas ließ unterdessen den Drucker heißlaufen und schaute mir ansonsten mehr oder weniger desinteressiert bei meinen Verrichtungen zu.
»Wenn du nichts besseres zu tun hast, könntest du ja mal das Schränkchen an deinem ehemaligen Bett ausräumen.«
»Okay.«
Wenige Minuten später lag ein Haufen Zeitschriften, Bücher, Stifte und anderer Krimskrams auf dem Schreibtisch, und ich zeigte Thomas kurz, was er dem Papierkorb anvertrauen und was er in mein eigenes Nachtschränkchen umlagern sollte. Letzteres war wohl keine so gute Idee, denn als ich das nächste Mal ins Zimmer kam, hatte er ein amüsiertes Grinsen im Gesicht und zwei Dinge in den Händen, die mir doch ein wenig das Blut in den Kopf schießen ließen.
"Now I'm truly convinced you weren't lying to me. Your love life is truly nonexistent. I almost thought you were hiding a hot guy from me somewhere, but no. You should get a move on, though; condoms don't last forever."
Argh! What Thomas was holding in his hands was one of the gifts he had ceremoniously presented to me for my last birthday. Mind you, during my party, in front of all the guests! The Backstreet Boys CD hadn't been a problem at first, but then came a colorful glossy magazine (it must have taken quite a bit of courage for him to buy it at the station bookstore) and a pack of extra-strong condoms. The cheers from the party guests were commensurate. I had devoured the magazine from cover to cover (and had since subscribed to it – in the name of my helpful mother), but the condoms were still in their original packaging, waiting to be put to their intended purpose. Knowing my luck, though, they would have to wait even longer.
"I think I can put the rubber bands somewhere at the bottom of your closet, you don't need them anyway."
"Thanks, do you have to rub it in my face? I'm just not as sex-crazy as you. Condom manufacturers are making a fortune off of you. And that's a good thing, too. The idea of all of a sudden having lots of little Thomases crawling around is something very frightening."
"Everyone as best they can."
"And at thirty, you'll get your comeuppance. Then you'll be a completely worn-out ex-Casanova."
"All the more reason I have to make sure I enjoy my life now. Carpe diem. Besides, you're just jealous."
He'd hit a sore spot, though. Not that I wanted to go all out like he did; just one Mr. Right would be enough for me. I sighed.
"Sorry, Danny, I didn't mean it like that. You'll find the right one for you. Maybe it's even Tim."
"Hopefully. I have no desire to end my life as an old, gray-haired male virgin."
"Oh, you poor thing, when I hear you like that, I could easily be persuaded to at least help you out in your relationship. I'm sure I could bring myself to do it once."
"No way! The boy I let close to me has to be handsome, intelligent, funny, and in love with me. I'm afraid you don't qualify in any of those areas."
"Well, if that's what you think, then you should probably reconsider your standards. You'll never find anyone better than me!"
"Thank God, we're humble again today. So why can't anyone last more than a week with you?"
"Uh, just for your information, I've been dating Christine for over three weeks now."
Wow, that was really a new record.
"You seem to be getting old. Or are you becoming sensible?"
»Keine Ahnung. Sie ist halt … naja, ich weiß nicht, wie ich es sagen soll. Seit wir zusammen sind, habe ich irgendwie kein Interesse mehr, mich nach anderen umzusehen.«
Ach du heilige, das war wirklich ganz was neues. Hatte es ihn tatsächlich dermaßen erwischt? Diese Christine mußte ich unbedingt kennenlernen.
»Wann stellst du sie mir denn mal vor?«
»Komisch daß du dieses Thema ansprichst. Ich dachte eigentlich an heute nachmittag. Wir wollen zusammen zum Schlittschuhlaufen, und ich hatte gehofft, daß du mitkommst.«
»Und ein besserer Platz als spiegelglattes Eis bei zehn Grad minus ist dir dafür nicht eingefallen?«
»Ach komm, sei nicht so eine Frostbeule. Oder hast du eine bessere Idee?«
»Wie wäre es mit der Sauna?«
"I'm sorry, you'll never get me back there. That one time was enough for me. I'll never forgive you for dragging me there. Besides, you'd just be constantly looking for naked men, but I want you to meet Christine. You can go to the sauna with Tim."
Good idea. Ever since I mustered up the courage six months ago and entered the municipal sauna for the first time—with Thomas along for moral support—I've been going at least once a week. No wonder, it could never be warm enough for me. Honestly, I really only cared for the wonderful warmth; the naked men were just a welcome addition. Most of them were with women anyway or were too old for me. Besides, you had to be pretty careful with your gaze.
"Okay, okay, so I'll dig out my skates."
My mother gave it to me last year in a somewhat unsuccessful attempt to get me to stay out of the house in the winter.
"But if I break my ass doing this, you'll be in big trouble."
"You can stuff a big pillow down your pants. But will you even have time? You must be busy."
"Let's see. We're done here for now, I don't know what else we need to do."
"For example, clearing a section of the desk."
Oops, I completely forgot about that. That was easier said than done, though. Sure, I could move all the devices a little closer together, but that probably wouldn't make much difference. Certainly not enough to make enough space for Tim. I let my gaze wander around the room, and that's when a redeeming idea came to me.
"Thomas, help me. The greens are going out."
Right next to the desk stood a flowerbed with half a dozen houseplants—pathetic houseplants, to be precise. They didn't particularly appreciate the change between cold night air and well-heated day air, and their leaves drooped accordingly.
A few minutes later, the plants and their stands had landed in the guest room, leaving a nice empty space next to the desk. Now all I needed was a suitable table, and I could store various computer parts on it. Tim's Christmas iMac—which fortunately had to be picked up first and wasn't in the burned-down apartment—would also have more than enough space. But where would I get such a piece of furniture for Sunday? This time, it was Thomas who had the perfect idea.
"Say, you used to have a little children's desk. Do you still have it somewhere? If I remember correctly, it should fit right here."
And whether he remembered correctly.
"Come with me, the thing is on the floor."
I rushed out of the room and headed for the stairs, but Thomas stopped me.
"Wait a minute, if that thing's on the floor, it's bound to be pretty dusty. We should bring a bucket of water and some rags upstairs. If we drag the table down all dirty and spread dust everywhere, your mother will quarter us."
Did I mention that Thomas would make a good househusband one day? Yes, I think I had. Anyway, we did exactly as he suggested, and indeed, a rough initial cleaning was urgently needed right upstairs at the storage area. Afterwards, we dragged the table into the children's room, where Thomas started on the fine cleaning while I unplugged various parts of the computer system. I came across the printed pictures, and Thomas had certainly done a great job. Three copies in A4 format, all that was missing was a suitable frame. Plus two sheets of paper with four smaller copies each. All on glossy paper, of course. I hoped Mom wouldn't get the idea of hanging one of the pictures on the wall in her office or putting it on the desk. I put the pictures down again, and when Thomas was finished scrubbing, I hoisted the two printers and the scanner onto the old table, which meant there was now more than enough room on the large desk for two roommates to work on their homework at the same time.
"Okay, done. Do you notice anything else I forgot?"
Thomast looked around the room, then sat down on “his” bed.
"Nope, I think that's it. I'm about to leave anyway; my people are expecting me for lunch."
A glance at the clock showed me that it was indeed almost twelve. Just as I was starting to worry about how I would stave off my own hunger, we heard a car pull up. I looked out the window, and the three remaining family members were already getting out of the Chrysler. Reinhardt took two large plastic bags out of the trunk and then followed the other two into the house. After a brief pause while they took off their winter clothes, all three of them appeared in the room.
"So, here we are again. My God, you've really done something! I was afraid I'd find you oblivious to the world in front of your computer."
"But Mom, I promised I'd take care of the room. Here, look, half the closet is available for Tim. Does he actually have anything left to put in there?"
Reinhardt pointed at the bags with a look that was difficult to interpret.
"We've picked out the best clothes, but other than two or three jackets and a pair of pants, there's probably no point in trying anything great. We'll be happy if we can get a few things clean again. By the way, could you help Tim out with a pair of pants? He slipped in the apartment and ripped his."
A closer look on my part actually revealed a long rip in Tim's jeans.
"No problem, we'll definitely find something suitable."
"Great. We stopped at McDonald's and picked up some food. Thomas, will you join us?"
"No, thanks. I'd better tweet now. Danny, if you can make it, be at the ice rink after two o'clock, okay? Tim, you too, if you want. Let Danny explain it to you."
"Let's see if I can overcome myself."
"Come on, don't be like that, I really want you to meet Christine."
"Okay, if I have time, I'll come."
Thomas took turns saying goodbye, and shortly afterwards, the slamming of the front door told us he was on his way home. Mom and Reinhardt also left the room, telling us to be there for dinner in ten minutes. Tim peeled off his clothes and tossed his torn jeans into the corner.
"Crap quality. The thing was practically brand new."
"Put it on the insurance list. Now, look in your closet and pick out some different pants. They're probably all a little too big for you, but there's nothing you can do about that."
Tim started searching and soon found a pair of black jeans.
"Can I try these?"
"You can try whatever you like. Go ahead. My house is your house. Or rather, my closet is your closet."
"Thanks."
Tja, in der Theorie hörte sich das gut an, in der Praxis stolperte Tim über die zu langen Hosenbeine, und ohne Gürtel stand er in nullkommanichts wieder ohne Hose da. Die schwarze Jeans hatte ich mir gerade erst gekauft, und zu allem Überfluß auch noch etwas zu groß, da ich die Hoffnung, noch zwei oder drei Zentimeter zu wachsen, noch nicht ganz aufgegeben hatte.
»Das wird wohl nichts. Hast du eventuell etwas Kleineres, du kennst doch deine Sachen besser.«
Ich überlegte hin und her, dummerweise hatte ich zu Herbstbeginn den Kleiderschrank ausgemistet und dabei auch einige mittlerweile etwas zu klein gewordene Hosen ausgemustert. Aber halt, ich hatte nicht alle weggeworfen! Eine mußte noch irgendwo herumliegen. Ich kramte ein wenig in den Fächern die ich früher am Tag nicht angerührt hatte, und meine Suche war tatsächlich von Erfolg gekrönt. Ich drückte Tim eine ziemlich ausgewaschene, aber ansonsten noch tadellose Latzjeans in die Hände.
»Hier, probier die mal. Die ist mir zu kurz geworden. Ich wollte eigentlich die Beine abschneiden, habe es dann aber vergessen.«
Tim schlüpfte hinein, die Länge war genau richtig, und zu weit war sie auch nicht. Eher im Gegenteil, sie saß so richtig schön knackig-eng. Auch Tim schien dieser Meinung zu sein.
"Great, I'll take that. If you don't mind."
"I don't, absolutely not. When I see how well it fits you, I know it would never fit me again."
"Okay. Thanks. But I'll take them off again now."
He did as he said he would, then we went downstairs to the kitchen, where the microwave had meanwhile brought the takeaways from McDonald's back to a edible temperature. Shortly afterward, we pounced on our food like half-starved castaways. It didn't take long, and at least Tim's and my plates were cleared. Except for the inevitable spills that come with eating Big Macs and the like. My mother looked at me questioningly.
"What did Thomas mean earlier by 'after two o'clock at the ice rink'?"
"He wants to introduce me to his girlfriend."
"He's never done that before. It would be quite time-consuming, given how much wear and tear he's getting."
"This time it seems serious. He and Christine have been together for over three weeks."
"Excuse me? This is already a real long-term relationship for him. Has this ever happened before?"
"Not that I know of. He seems to really value my opinion this time. As if I have much experience in the matter."
Tim grinned at me challengingly.
"Maybe he wants an objective opinion, not influenced by any physical attraction."
"In that case, he's come to the right place. Mom, what's the situation? Am I needed here, or can I go there?"
"If you're going out voluntarily in the winter, I certainly won't put any obstacles in your way. The room has already been rearranged, and there's not much we can do today anyway. I'll just take a look at the things I brought with me later and see if anything can be salvaged. So feel free to leave."
"Okay, thanks. Tim, are you coming with me?"
"I don't know. After all, he wants to introduce you to his girlfriend."
"Thomas invited you too. He likes you, too, and you should be proud of that. He's pretty picky when it comes to choosing his friends. Much pickier than he is with his girlfriends."
"He at least has one."
"Thanks, Mom. Thanks for plunging me even deeper into my depression."
"It was a pleasure. Tim, if you want, you can come along, we don't need you here."
"But I don't have any skates. Or rather, my skates went up in smoke."
»Du kannst dir dort welche leihen. Oder du bekommst meine, ich habe eh keine Ahnung, ob die mir noch passen.«
»Gut, gut, ich habe verstanden. Ich komme mit.«
»Sehr schön. Also gehen wir hoch und ich probiere mal, ob mir die Schlittschuhe noch passen.«
Das taten sie natürlich nicht, dafür paßten sie Tim wie angegossen. Sah ganz so aus, als hätte ich jemanden gefunden, dem ich all meine mir zu klein werdenden Sachen vermachen konnte. Pech gehabt, kleiner Bruder.
Die Zeit bis zum Abmarsch verbrachten wir damit, Tims Pokale und Medaillen zu schrubben und dann in Regalen unterzubringen bzw. an die Wand zu hängen. So kam richtig Glanz in meine bescheidene Hütte. Kurz vor zwei zogen wir uns dann an und gingen nach unten. Tim lief vor mir her, und der Anblick seines makellosen Hinterteils in den hautengen Jeans war … naja, anregend halt. Mit Mühe konnte ich einen tiefen Stoßseufzer unterdrücken.
Unsere Eltern waren inzwischen damit beschäftigt, in der Küche die Kleidersäcke auszupacken, und ein kurzer Blick auf deren Inhalt zeigte mir, daß das wohl alles vergeblichen Liebesmüh war. Reinhardt blickt zu uns auf.
"Ah, come on Tim, do a fashion show."
The person in question took a few prancing steps through the kitchen, turned around on his own axis and then came back to me.
"Son, you'll have to be very careful not to lie down again. The seams are about to burst anyway."
"The others were too far for me, and I would have had to constantly be careful not to lose them."
"As you wish. Well then, have fun, you two."
My mother joined in this pious wish, and five minutes later we were trudging through the snow toward the ice rink. For weeks now, it had been a lucrative source of income for the operator, who certainly needed it, as the previous year had barely had a chance to properly ice the rink. Last winter had been more to my liking, with average temperatures well above freezing. However, this year, St. Peter seemed to want to make up for his perceived error.
When we arrived at the agreed-upon spot, we could see that the ice was bustling with activity. Mostly people between 10 and 25 populated the smooth surface, including a few couples walking in close embraces. Hmm. Apparently, everything had conspired against me; my yet-to-be-found better half was constantly being rubbed in my face. So many happy couples—argh! I was slowly beginning to fear for my peace of mind.
We stood at the edge of the ice and looked out for Thomas – which we could have saved ourselves, because the next moment he appeared next to us.
"Danny, Tim! Glad you could come!"
"As if I could ever refuse you a wish."
"You do it all the time. Whatever. Guys, I'd like to introduce you to Christine. Come on, Christine, show yourself."
The girl in question had been mostly hidden by Thomas up until this point and now stepped up next to him. Tall, slim, blonde—and with a heartwarming smile on her face—heartwarming, if I ever find girls heartwarming.
"Hello."
"Christine, this is my best friend Daniel and his brother Tim."
Daniel! Thomas knew full well that I didn't like hearing my full name. It always reminded me of family stress. But just wait, two people can play that game.
"Nice to meet you, Christine. Now tell me how a pretty girl like you ended up with someone like Thomas-Johannes Kupfer."
That, dear congregation, was my best friend's best-kept secret. Besides me, only his parents and a few school officials knew that he actually had a double-barreled name. His reaction was appropriate.
»Danny, dafür bringe ich dich um! Im nächsten Sommer werfe ich dich von der Eisenbahnbrücke in den Fluß, du wirst jämmerlich ersaufen. Nein, solange warte ich gar nicht erst. Ich sperre dich nackt in den Kühlraum von Jürgens Metzgerei. Wie ich mich an deinen Qualen weiden werde!«
Christine hingegen war alles andere als geschockt.
»Heißt du wirklich so? Thomas-Johannes?«
Mit verzerrtem Gesicht, kaum festzustellen ob vor Wut oder vor unterdrücktem Lachen, nickte der Genannte mit dem Kopf.
»Also ich finde das niedlich. Irgendwie richtig romantisch. Paßt zu dir. Thomas-Johannes. Darf ich dich Tho-Jo nennen?«
Das schien Thomas etwas zu versöhnen.
»Na gut, aber nur wenn wir unter uns sind. Und Danny, wenn du es noch jemals jemandem erzählst, mache ich meine Drohung wahr. Und das gilt auch für dich, Tim.«
"Then I strongly recommend that you don't introduce me as Daniel in the future."
»Okay, Deal.«
Christine was relieved. Unaccustomed to the usual banter between her boyfriend and me, she didn't know how serious (or, more accurately, how not so serious) the situation had been.
"So, there you go. And to answer your question: I met Tho-Jo on the bus in December. He was on his way to deliver homework to his best friend, the famous Danny, who was lying ill at the time."
"So I was the subject of your conversation on the very first day? I'm honored."
"Indeed. And I'm so glad to finally meet you. Thomas talks a lot about you."
"Only the good things are true—and he usually understates them enormously—and the bad things he usually just makes up."
"Don't worry, I already know that. In case you're wondering, you really are very important to him. Back on the bus to your hospital bed, he was literally sick with worry."
"It wasn't worrying about me. He just didn't know how to survive the days without me. I mean, who would pull him out of the mess he regularly gets himself into every two or three days? But now tell me what you find so special about him."
"Oh, where do I begin? He looks good."
Hmm, well, it's a matter of taste. He was a bit too athletic for my taste.
"He's intelligent."
Excuse me? She'd known him for three weeks and still believed that?
"He's funny."
Okay, Thomas was always cracking jokes. But often enough, no one could laugh at them.
"And he's extremely brave."
Huh!
"How did you come up with that?"
"Well, it takes a lot of courage to introduce your girlfriend to such a handsome boy like you. After all, it could go terribly wrong."
Wonderful, fantastic, fantastic! If it hadn't been so cold, Thomas, Tim, and myself would have been rolling around on the floor laughing. I had my reservations about Christine at first, what with her feminine, blonde, and good-looking nature, and the room-temperature IQ that presumably accompanies these qualities. But she really did seem to be the exception to the rule. Now, however, she looked at us rather bewildered. The sight of three guys almost unable to breathe from laughing—apparently for no reason—didn't seem to be an everyday occurrence for her.
"Could you tell me what's so funny about it?"
It took quite a while before we were able to do that. Somehow, I was the first to regain my composure.
"I'm sorry, Christine, but if that's what you were hoping for, I have to disappoint you. You'll just have to put up with this oaf."
"Oh, you're already taken."
My laughter that followed was rather tortured.
"That would be nice. You don't happen to have a handsome twin brother?"
Christine looked a little confused at first, but then an understanding expression spread across her face.
"Ah, you're gay. I take back everything I said about Thomas's courage. He really wasn't in any danger."
Diese Bemerkung zauberte einen leicht beleidigten Ausdruck auf Tims Gesicht, welcher von Thomas' Freundin sofort erspäht wurde.
"Sorry, Tim, you're anything but ugly, but you're still a little too young for me. How old are you, fifteen?"
"Sixteen."
"You can't tell. But still, I'm sorry, you wouldn't be interesting to me for at least a year."
Tim seemed to be able to live with that; he was already smiling to himself again.
"And Danny, I'm really sorry, but I can't help you with a twin brother; I'm an only child. The most I could do is set you up with my piano teacher, but he's already over fifty, and he's basically been married for decades."
"The lucky one."
"Hey, take a look around the ice, there are some guys out there alone."
"That's true, but as soon as I step onto the ice, everyone there will probably be busy laughing at me. So I'd better not bother, I don't have any skates anyway."
However, I hadn't reckoned with the three of them; they dragged me with combined strength to the skate rental booth, and shortly thereafter, despite all my protests, I was on the ice.
I spent a good half of the next hour either falling down or getting back up, certainly a performance less suited to a sports show than to a show like "Pleiten, Pech und Pannen." Hopefully, no one was there with a video camera. My performance certainly didn't attract the attention of a pretty boy. And if it did, it was probably an emergency medical technician glancing at his prospective client.
Anyway. During the times I was desperately trying to stay on my feet, I learned a lot about Thomas's latest flame. He could never have been accused of bad taste, just a rather frequently changing one. Christine, however, embodied just about every possible good quality of her predecessors in one person, and she clearly also had the necessary determination to keep Thomas tied down for a long time. She practically had him wrapped around her little finger, and I wasn't quite sure if the poor guy had even realized what was happening to him. His free, unattached life must have come to a rather abrupt end with Christine. Well, he could have had it a lot worse. And that's exactly what I told him when my torment was finally over and Christine was waiting with Tim in the line at the mulled wine stand, waiting to be served. She had left Thomas and me behind, and he took the opportunity to ask me what I thought of his girlfriend.
"What do you think of her?"
"Honest answer?"
"Clear."
"Okay. You don't deserve a gem like that."
"Thank you! Does that mean you agree with her?"
Very strange question.
»Das hat dich doch bisher nie interessiert.«
»Jetzt interessiert es mich aber, okay?«
»Schon gut, schon gut. Wahrscheinlich willst du ja nur eine Bestätigung für dein Ego. Also, ich würde dir dringend empfehlen, es mit Christine nicht zu vermasseln. Eine wie sie, die gut aussieht, intelligent ist, und trotz allem was an dir findet, läuft dir bestimmt nicht so bald wieder über den Weg.«
»Soll ich sie meinen Eltern vorstellen?«
»Das hast du noch nicht getan?«
»Nein, ich wollte erst deine Meinung hören.«
»Das solltest du ganz schnell nachholen. Sie macht mir den Eindruck, daß ihr das was bedeuten würde.«
»Okay, ich frage sie gleich, ob sie nachher mit mir nach Hause kommen will.«
»Dann wähle aber deine Worte weise, nicht daß sie bei dieser Frage zu einer falschen Schlußfolgerung kommt.«
»Stimmt. Danke. Äh … du wirst es nicht glauben, aber wir … wir haben noch nicht … naja, du weißt schon.«
"WHAT?!? After more than three weeks? You haven't had to rely on your own hand for such a long time in years."
"You speak from experience. But I don't want to rush into anything with her."
"That's a good resolution. I think it's worth it. So, now close
Dr. Sommer closes his practice and once again indulges in his own dreams for a better future."
"Thank you, Danny. I probably haven't told you this clearly in a long time, but your friendship means a lot to me."
"It's my pleasure. Now if I could figure out why that nice guy always stays alone, that would help me a lot."
"You're really pretty desperate in your relationship right now, aren't you?"
"Indeed. I have no idea why. Maybe because I see so many happy couples around me?"
"You shouldn't despair. You'll see, you won't be single for much longer. Maybe you should just see if there's a gay youth group or something like that somewhere around here."
"I don't know, it's not really my style. I don't want to isolate myself by retreating into some kind of self-imposed gay ghetto. I'm glad I have plenty of 'normal' friends."
"You shouldn't change that. But the chances of finding someone for yourself are probably much higher there than just waiting for a boyfriend to fall into your lap."
"You're right. I'll think about it."
"But don't take too long, or I'll personally drag you there by the scruff of your neck. Even though, of course, all the covetous eyes will be on me first."
"Keep dreaming, baby. Gays are much more demanding and picky than your Christine. But well, once we've gotten through the stress of moving, I'll see if I can find something like that nearby."
"Promised?"
"Promised."
"Good. I need you to be in a good, balanced state of mind. How else are you supposed to help me with my little problems?"
"God, what a selfless friend you are. Don't let Christine hear that. And speaking of her, put on your best face, here they come."
I had barely said that when Tim pressed a mug of mulled wine into my hand. It was exactly what I desperately needed.
Over the next few minutes, Thomas asked his girlfriend if she'd like to accompany him home to meet his family. Christine seemed very pleased, and shortly afterward, the two left arm in arm. Tim and I couldn't stay at the ice rink any longer, so we also headed home. There, we arrived just in time for a slightly belated coffee. My mother took advantage of the social gathering to give Tim some not-so-good news.
"Tim, I'm really sorry, but with the exception of one jacket, we can probably throw away all of your things."
"I was afraid of that."
"While Danny is having fun at school tomorrow, the three of us will go on a big shopping trip. After all, we need to fill all that space he made for you as quickly as possible."
"There's no rush; we just need to get the essentials first. Danny can probably help me with a lot of things."
"No way. You and Reinhardt should feel comfortable here, and that includes having enough of your own clothes. So prepare yourselves for a massive fitting orgy."
I had to grin. I was used to this sort of thing all too well, and I was incredibly glad I wasn't the victim this time. Reinhardt, and especially Tim, would be able to admire the inside of locker rooms almost exclusively tomorrow morning. I'd probably be more comfortable at school—and that's saying something.
The rest of the day passed without further highlights. I spent some time packing my school things, and shortly after nine, I said goodbye and headed for bed, where Tim followed me half an hour later. This time, unfortunately, into his own bed. Fortunately, our trouble falling asleep from the previous evening didn't repeat itself, and after just a few minutes, I could tell from Tim's steady breathing that he had fallen asleep without any problems. This, in turn, gave me the inner peace to follow him immediately.

---

The night from Monday to Monday passed quietly and without disturbances, except for the fact that my mother crept into the room in the middle of the night and quietly woke me up to force me to go to school. No matter how quiet I tried, my subsequent activities woke the sleeper in the other bed. He grinned at me rather contentedly from his bed.
"Just grin, your reprieve is short. Soon you'll have the pleasure again."
"Sure. But for now, I'm going to enjoy what you did to me last year. I'm going to watch you get ready for school. When you're gone, I'm going to roll over and think of you with regret."
"Don't get too excited. While I'll be sitting quietly and calmly in the bank later, you'll have to play dress-up. Knowing Mom, you'll get to try on half the store at a time. So, who has to feel sorry for whom now?"
"I don't mind trying things on; I even enjoy shopping. But you should stop talking now; your time is running out."
What a pushover. But he was right: if I didn't want to risk being late on the very first day of school of the year, I would have to hurry a bit. So I retreated to the bathroom, and when I left a quarter of an hour later, my enviable little brother was already sound asleep again. I grabbed my things and then found myself in the kitchen for breakfast, where I was subjected to the usual first-day-of-school-after-the-holidays reprimands. About behavior and cooperation and so on. Over the years, I had come to believe that my mother only celebrated this banishment to get me out of the house and on the way to school as quickly as possible. As usual, this trick worked flawlessly. I was almost still chewing the last bite when I slipped on my jacket and shoes, leaving the house shortly afterwards.
My hasty departure from my hometown had the unpleasant side effect that I arrived at school earlier than I would have liked, and thus had to wait longer than I would have liked in the cold. Someone seemed to think it unnecessary to let the students into the heated school building too early. Just as I was about to start feeling sorry for myself, an unpleasantly cheerful Thomas appeared next to me—which didn't exactly improve my mood.
»Hi Danny! Ist heute nicht ein wunderschöner Tag?«
»Könnte ich nicht behaupten. Tim liegt im warmen Bett, ich stehe hier in der Kälte, und du versprühst eine Fröhlichkeit, die dem ersten Schultag nach den Ferien alles andere als angemessen ist. Verrätst du mir, was dich dermaßen aus dem Häuschen gebracht hat?«
»Meine Eltern sind von Christine begeistert. Und Christine von meinen Eltern.«
»Und das reicht dir aus, um dich mit der Schule zu versöhnen?«
»Ich weiß halt auch die kleinen Dinge im Leben zu würdigen.«
Wenn er meinte. Nach und nach fanden sich auch die anderen Mitglieder unserer lockeren Clique ein, und von weitem sah ich, wie Ralph mir etwas verstohlen zuwinkte. Fünf Minuten später wurden wir endlich eingelassen, und ich brauchte nur etwa drei komplette Unterrichtsstunden, um wieder einigermaßen aufzutauen. Erfreulicherweise verlief diese Schultag wesentlich angenehmer als mein letzter hier verbrachter. Zumindest bis ich dann in der großen Mittagspause mit meinem Tablett an unserem Stammtisch auftauchte und in lauter grinsende Gesichter schaute. Ich setzte mich und wartete auf eine Erklärung – die jedoch nicht kam. Anscheinend wollte man mich dumm sterben lassen. Ich schaute dem Treiben einen Moment lang zu, dann wurde es mir zu bunt.
"Could someone from this happy group tell me why you're all grinning like a herd of proverbial Cheshire cats?"
The general grin turned into general laughter. Then Katja deigned to provide an explanation. Or what she considered an explanation.
"It's about time you found someone to keep you warm in bed."
Oops, I had a terrible inkling of what was going on here. And this suspicion was about to be confirmed. Jürgen handed Thomas a piece of paper, roughly A6 in size.
"Here, thanks for sharing this with us."
With a quick grab, I snatched the corpus delicti from Thomas and immediately identified it as one of the smaller prints of the picture that showed Tim and me tightly embraced in Sunday bed.
"So this is the thanks I get for being your love advisor. If I'd known, I would have completely blown you off with Christine yesterday."
"Oh come on, don't be like that. It's really a unique picture."
"Did this traitor at least tell you under what circumstances the picture was taken?"
Katja laughed.
"He did. You spent a passionate night of lovemaking with Tim and forgot to lock the bedroom door. You obviously have very little experience with these things."
"Thomas, you're so dead. Are you jumping out the window voluntarily, or do I have to help you?"
Again, the entire table burst into loud laughter. Especially since jumping out of the window like that wouldn't have hurt Thomas much, considering the dining room's ground-floor location. Anyway, and although I would have preferred this photo to remain private, the general mood told me that I was really damn lucky to have my friends. Nevertheless, I wanted to explain the situation in a little more detail. If only for Tim's sake, who would soon become a victim of these so-called friends of mine.
"So, guys, in short. While we were in Florida, my mom's boyfriend's apartment burned down, so he and Tim have been staying with us since Saturday. And after Tim saw his destroyed room, he was so upset he couldn't sleep, and I felt the same way. So at some point, he came into bed with me, and we just held each other for the night. That's all that happened, and knowing Tim now, I doubt that will ever change. Which, by the way, I sincerely regret. So, now you can fight over who will take over my best friend's job after Thomas's unexpected resignation."
Again, everyone present laughed, and this time I even managed to join in. Then Jürgen had a very important message for the evil picture-passer.
"Hey, Thomas, when I was at the principal's with Julia earlier about the school newspaper, I ran into a girl... simply amazing! She's in a grade below us, and today is probably her first day here. So she doesn't know your reputation yet, maybe you have a chance with her."
The aforementioned apron-hunter blushed for the first time on such an occasion! I was so glad I had the chance to witness that! And even his mouth was stuttering, unable to produce any relevant sound combinations. So I had to intervene once again.
"Guys, I have an announcement to make. Anyone with a calendar, please take it out now and mark today with a red dot. Thomas is in love! He's had a terrible time – so the new girl will probably have to do without his charm."
This news apparently shocked the assembled group even more than the picture of Tim and me. Katja expressed what everyone seemed to be thinking.
"Thomas? In love? Seriously?"
"Indeed. He and his Christine have been together for almost a month."
The reactions ranged from quiet whistles to loud applause, which only made my best friend's face turn redder.
"Stop it, stop it! Am I not allowed to fall seriously in love? Is that so surprising?"
Wrong question. Synchronous answer from nearly a dozen voices:
"However!"
Everyone except Thomas burst out laughing, and shortly afterward he leaned over and whispered something in my ear.
"Do I really have such a bad reputation?"
I whispered back.
"Well, not necessarily bad. But at least... well, extraordinary."
"I'll have to be careful that my Christine doesn't find out about this."
"Don't worry. The way she looked at you, she certainly wouldn't let that scare her off."
"Well, hopefully..."
Thomas' answer was interrupted by Jürgen.
"What are you whispering about? Since when has there been secrecy around here? Oh, by the way, Danny, the new girl also has a brother who'll probably end up in our class. Julia said he's extremely handsome. Not that I can judge, but... Well, anyway, there's fresh meat for you too."
Well, thanks a lot. Fresh meat. I really wasn't looking for that sort of thing. Besides, the odds against me having a chance with this "extremely good-looking" fresh meat were clearly against me. But at least, maybe it would result in a pretty sight now and then. My eyes, not particularly spoiled by the dreary school premises, could use that. And I'm allowed to dream, right?
"Jürgen, please don't promise me anything you can't guarantee. Or did he happen to have a rainbow sticker on his jacket?"
"Sorry, I can't tell you. Unlike you, I don't look at boys that closely."
"But you should. Even if they don't interest you the way I do, you could at least see if they represent any kind of competition for you. Just a little suggestion."
"Damn, I hadn't thought of that. Thanks for the tip."
Then it was time to break up the merry group—unfortunately, we couldn't avoid returning to the hands of our mostly rather boring "teaching staff." And boring applied to this teaching staff in many ways. Not a single attractive young teacher had found their way to our grammar school! They would have certainly been able to stimulate my performance and especially my participation. My only consolation was that the same was true for the opposite sex. The average age of the teaching staff was somewhere well over forty. God, our history teacher didn't just teach history; he was more or less already part of it!
The remaining school hours passed relatively quickly, even though the promised handsome boy didn't show up, and I put the key in the front door lock faster than expected.
"I'm here, who else?"
"Come into the kitchen."
I took off my jacket and shoes and then followed my mother's voice. She was standing at the stove, stirring pots and pans, while Reinhardt was carrying plates to the table.
"Hello you two."
The two of them greeted me back, and I took a closer look at my future stepfather.
"You haven't been shopping at all, have you? Reinhardt still looks so cheerful, as if he didn't have to try anything on."
This earned me a pained smile from the person mentioned.
"Oh yes, I've had to endure a lot. I'm just a good actor. We only got in half an hour ago."
They had been on the road for a really long time, and I admired Reinhardt for his composure. I would have collapsed long ago after such an operation. Now Mom turned to me.
"Would you like another plate of spaghetti?"
Now that was a pretty—sorry—stupid question. As if I'd ever said no to anything edible. Mom realized that at the same moment.
"Okay, of course you'll eat with us. Go upstairs and take off your warm clothes. In five minutes you can come down with Tim. He's just putting his hunting loot away in the closet."
Hunting prey. I wonder if Tim saw it that way too? When I had to endure such shopping stress, I would later describe the purchases (no matter how beautiful and expensive they may have been) as at best lousy compensation for a few horrible hours. I left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to the first floor. The bedroom door was half open, and from a distance I could see an obviously very satisfied Tim tidying his closet. Well, let's see what he'd dusted.
"Hello little brother."
"Hello big brother. So, was school good?"
"The school itself, as a building, yes. At least somewhat. What went on inside, not so much."
And by that, I meant less the appearance of the compromising image than what had to be endured in the actual school lessons.
"And how was your day? For a morning of shopping with my mom, you still look pretty cheerful and happy."
"I already told you I like shopping."
"Was it worth it? You do realize there's a fashion show afterward."
"Okay, if you want. And yes, it was worth it. A few pairs of pants, jackets, sweaters, shirts, shoes, and lots of other small items."
"Like I said, I want to see all of this later, so don't bother organizing the closet. Right, I have to get out of these warm clothes, and then we can go downstairs for pasta."
"Oh yes, my stomach is growling. I ate a bratwurst on the way, but it didn't last long."
I did as I said I would, and then we rushed down the stairs to the predator feeding station.
Twenty minutes and a tablecloth splattered with tomato sauce by Reinhardt himself later, I settled into my computer chair while Tim began showing me his acquisitions. A pair of dungarees, three pairs of regular jeans, several fleece shirts, a couple of shirts, two winter jackets, various shoes, and sneakers – a good half hour passed with the demonstration, and I could see that my little brother had quite refined taste in his clothes. With him, I certainly wouldn't have to be ashamed of anything.
"Good choice, Tim. The clothes look great on you."
"Thanks. Can I still keep these, even though I have my own things now?"
He pointed to the faded pants I had provided him with yesterday.
"Sure, it doesn't fit me anymore anyway. But it probably won't fit you much longer either."
"True. But as long as it still fits me, I'd like to wear it every now and then."
"No problem, go ahead."
"Thanks. Oh, and by the way..."
Now he smiled at me a little, well, how should I say, shyly.
»And?«
"Unfortunately, you were absolutely right."
"I always have. With what?"
"Do you remember our first afternoon together, here in your room?"
"What exactly do you mean?"
Instead of answering, he took something from one of his drawers in the closet and held it out to me. I unfolded it and burst out laughing.
»Don't laugh so dirty!«
"Just like I threatened. But don't worry, you'll get used to it."
I gave him back the blue tights and grinned at him.
"Wouldn't you fight tooth and nail against it, and if necessary even incite Reinhardt?"
"I've tried everything, but your mother is extremely persuasive. Dad only managed to avoid getting some because there aren't any in his size."
"Well, then maybe you should start growing a lot, really quickly."
"Don't worry, that's exactly what I plan to do. Well, at least I can wear the one set of 'normal' underwear as long as it still fits. At least that gives me something to wear for changing days at school."
"I can only give you one piece of advice on this topic: Get over it. Getting worked up about it won't achieve anything. Believe me, I speak from my own painful experience."
"Probably true. Now, tell me in more detail: How was school?"
"Does that really have to happen? I'm not particularly keen on that topic. I'm happy every day when I can forget about school until the next morning."
"I'm really sorry, but since I'll be attending the institution you honored with your presence starting next week at the latest, I'd like some advance information."
"Really? You're changing next week?"
"Yep, at the latest. Maybe even sooner. There's no point in putting it off any longer."
Well, that was some good news. So I spilled the beans a bit, trying not to scare Tim off right from the start. Okay, my school wasn't that bad, especially after the extensive renovations of the last few years, but still. School was still school. When I told Tim about the unfortunate lack of attractive young teachers, he laughed out loud.
"Of course, that's the biggest negative point for you, isn't it?"
"Indeed! And just so you don't get too excited: there isn't a single good-looking young female teacher."
"They do it this way on purpose so the students aren't distracted."
"Possibly. In any case, you'll quickly realize that looking at the blackboard is almost always more pleasant than looking at the teacher."
"That doesn't sound very promising. And what about the students?"
"Well, there are quite a few that are worth a second look. Male and female. Just today, Jürgen told me he met a new student who, according to him, looks 'really great.' She'll probably be in your future class, by the way."
"Well, at least something. I'm not the only new one."
"You won't be that new anyway. Besides me, there are a lot of other people you already met at Katja's party."
"So I can know you at school too?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, in my old class, I had a friend who was a complete stranger to his older brother at school. And heaven forbid he ever even thought of talking to him or sitting at his table at lunch. Strangely enough, at home, they were best friends."
"You don't have to worry about that. Yes, we have guys like that, too, but in our 'club,' there are no such class barriers."
"Well, that's reassuring. So, what do we do now?"
"I don't know what you're doing, I have to get on with my homework."
"Should your little brother help you with this?"
"Now don't get cocky, model student. By the way, you were already the topic of conversation at our lunchtime regulars' table today."
I told Tim about the incident with the compromising picture, and he didn't even bother to think about whether to laugh or cry—he just laughed. He had a sunny disposition, the little one.
At that moment there was a knock on the door and Reinhardt entered.
"Guys, what's up? We thought it would be a nice change of pace to pick up Tim's new computer."
Tim was, of course, thrilled.
"Great! I'll get dressed right away."
And then he was out of his jeans and the next moment he was searching for his last surviving pair of thermal underwear.
"Where did I put... crap... in the laundry? Oh well, whatever..."
He said that and reached for the tights he had shown me a moment before. He looked at them, not entirely convinced.
"Tell me, Danny, how do you put something like that on?"
Of course, I was only too willing to show him—constantly watched by a grinning Reinhardt standing in the open door. He then had a question for me.
"Are you coming too, Danny?"
Hmm, interesting question. On the one hand, it's an interesting offer, but on the other hand... considering the pile of homework, coming along didn't seem like such a good idea.
"No, I'm staying here and working on my school stuff. By the time you get back here, I'll definitely be done with it, then we can build together."
"Oh, how responsible! Your mother will be pleased to hear that."
"Well, I have to be a good role model for my little brother, right?"
"You got it."
By now, Tim had slipped back into his jeans and left the room with his father. I, for my part, made good on my announcement—and regretted my decision not to go within minutes. Students were, after all, the most pitiful group in society. When I thought of all the things we were taught, things that we were certain we'd never need again after school...
Anyway. After two endless hours, I'd gotten the punishment over with, and the busy computer buyers could now start showing up again. I laid out some of the parts we'd need to connect the computers, then waited for the shopping group to return with a glass of Coke (I'd make sure Reinhardt didn't get too close to that drinking vessel) and some gingerbread. From where I was, I could see the driveway, so I'd easily know when I should go downstairs and help carry things upstairs. I had the house to myself for the first time in a long time, and a brief period of peace and quiet wasn't something to be sniffed at.
That is, I thought I had the house to myself. I was all the more startled when the bedroom door suddenly opened and my mother walked in. I had slumped down in my computer chair with my feet up on the table—something my mother absolutely hated. Accordingly, I went into "caught sinner mode" and almost managed to fall out of the chair while trying to assume an acceptable sitting position.
"What are you doing here? I haven't even seen a car coming!"
"Why car? Oh, I see. I didn't even go along; I'm not that interested in the technical stuff. And there was plenty to do here anyway."
"I didn't even realize there was anyone else in the house."
Well, no wonder, I had the stereo on as usual while I did my homework.
"What have you been up to?"
"Here, look, the jacket looks like new, doesn't it?"
"One from Tim?"
"Yes. I think I got it all out. And out of these jeans too, I wouldn't have expected it."
It actually looked like these two things were usable again. Not that Tim really needed them after his morning shopping trip. Then I thought of something else.
"Say, his long underwear didn't survive the fire?"
This remark made my mother laugh out loud, and she looked at me with a happy twinkle in her eyes.
"No, really. But he got all sorts of nice new things. He didn't complain, did he?"
"Well, I wouldn't necessarily say complained. But you know..."
"Well, if he wants to live with me, he'll just have to be able to live with it. Besides, I think it's only fair to you."
So, my little brother really had to go through that. But hey, there were worse things. Although I would have considered it even fairer to myself if I'd been allowed to switch to regular thermal underwear. But that probably wouldn't happen until the day I moved into the retirement home at the earliest. Before I could dwell on this thought, however, a car turned onto the property, honking its horn.
"Come on, Danny, let's go down and help unload and carry things up."
So we did, and half an hour later I was sitting next to a beaming Tim, working with him on the initial installation of his latest acquisition. The idea was that computers were supposed to take work off our hands, leaving us more time for other things – but my experience had been that as a proud computer owner, you spend so much time in front of the monitor that many other things that were previously important to you fall by the wayside. This was especially true, of course, when you're putting a new computer into operation. This was confirmed once again, because no sooner had we really gotten into it than the call for dinner sounded. We kept it extremely brief, and soon we were staring at the monitor again. Naturally, we completely lost track of time, and when our parents came into the room and ordered us to turn off the computers, we were completely surprised to find that it was already after 10 p.m.
Shortly afterwards we were in our respective beds, and another night, which was of course far too short for me, began.

---

The next morning, the unpleasant spectacle of the previous day repeated itself: Tim stayed in his warm bed, while I had to go out into the cold of life. If one could even go so far as to call what was going on at school "life." Once again, it had snowed half the night, and to our indescribable surprise, the school authorities had decided to let us poor sacrificial lambs into the heated building earlier! When I entered the room, most of my classmates were already sitting in their chairs, waiting for what was to come. Chemistry. I could easily do without it. Definitely one of the subjects I would definitely never really need. I took my seat and looked at a rather tired-looking Thomas.
"What's wrong with you? Did you have a long night with Christine?"
"Don't ask me."
Well, if he didn't want to talk, I wasn't going to force him. Pushing myself on me really wasn't my style. Even if curiosity was killing me! I turned the other way and greeted Jürgen and Lisa. The next moment, Thomas tugged on my left arm.
"What is it, do you want to know now?"
"I think I shouldn't ask you!"
"Idiot. I spent half the night in the hospital emergency room."
"What?!? What happened?"
"Caren fell while ice skating, and someone stabbed her right arm with their skate. She bled like a pig."
"Shit. How is she?"
"I'm feeling better now. The wound had to be stitched, but with a little luck, there won't be much of a visible scar."
"Thank God. Give her my best regards and wish her a speedy recovery."
"I'll do it."
"Tell me, but why were you in the emergency room? What happened to your parents?"
"They were at a concert and, of course, had turned off their cell phones. I had no idea where exactly they were, so I went to the hospital with them and waited there until our parents arrived home and heard the good news from my sisters. I got home around midnight, but I was still awake at 3."
"Then maybe you should have stayed in bed today."
"Hah, that would be nice! Unfortunately, my parents won't play along."
It seemed somehow familiar. Hell would have frozen over before my mother took me out of school. But since, as a gay, cold-blooded person, I would end up in exactly that hell according to the Christian definition, I didn't particularly care about it freezing over. It would just stay nice and warm there.
However, we couldn't continue our conversation any further, because at that very moment our chemistry teacher entered the room. A rather small, elderly woman, whose appearance always made us suspect that she secretly experimented with the chemistry lab's supplies after school and then smeared her creations on her face as homemade cosmetics. Apart from that, she was definitely among the better members of the local teaching staff, always up for a joke, and pleasantly refrained from engaging in many other teachers' favorite pastime—annoying students. As always, she arrived at the last minute, and no sooner had she put down her bag than the doorbell rang.
She spent the first few minutes chatting happily about how she had spent the holidays, but then she was a little speechless when she tried to use the projector and discovered that it was still in holiday mode - in other words, that nothing could persuade it to work.
"Damn it." She certainly couldn't be accused of being particularly reserved when it came to using swear words. "What do I do now? I've got it. Danny, please run over to the physics lab and ask if you can borrow their projector."
That's what I got for being seen as always polite and helpful. It wasn't even that I was conveniently seated right by the door—no, I was practically singled out. Dear Danny takes care of that. Well, there was nothing I could do about it. I got up and left the room. "Run quickly," she had said. I definitely wasn't going to do that now. After all, we'd been told over and over again that running wasn't allowed in the school building. So I calmly strolled across the entire floor to the other end of the building. Arriving at the door of the physics room, infamously known as the "sleep lab" (the teacher's name was Tröger, which was quite fitting: one hour sleepier than the next), I was just about to knock when I could only save myself from getting hit in the face by a world-record-breaking, quick-reaction jump to the side. The next moment I looked into the face of our deputy headmistress, who was obviously no less shocked than I was.
"Daniel! My God, what are you doing here in front of the door? In the middle of class?"
I refrained from asking what made her push open a room door so forcefully in the middle of class, as if she wanted to catch someone eavesdropping behind it.
"Mrs. Kraus sent me to scrounge the local projector."
"Ah yes. Then I won't keep you any longer, go in and ask Mr. Tröger."
I would have liked to, but it would have been very advantageous if she'd opened the door. She did, and I wanted to take advantage of this and enter the room – and promptly had another near-collision. This time, however, not with a wooden board with a handle, but with a boy I'd never noticed before. And he must have been really new, otherwise I definitely would have noticed him! I certainly wasn't blind. Especially not in this regard.
Slender, a few centimeters taller than me, light blond, his face unadorned by any facial hair or spots, deep blue eyes, his full, red lips curled into a slight smile.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to get in your way."
"No problem, I seem to want to run into everything today."
We looked at each other for a brief moment (long enough to send my insides into complete turmoil), then our mutual contemplation was rudely interrupted.
"Philipp, come on, we have to go further."
Philip. What a fitting name for this divine being.
"Sorry, I have to go."
With these words, he pushed past me and out of the room, and at that moment I wished our representative to be in the place on the planet that, for me, was the most terrifying place of all: the North Pole. Okay, the South Pole wouldn't be bad either; I wasn't that picky.
Well, that's about it for now. I could only hope that I'd run into good old Philipp again. I certainly wouldn't mind bumping into him more often! And I mean really bumping into him! Strangely enough, I didn't think a single word about Jürgen's announcement from the day before regarding a new student. Which proves once again that the school environment is anything but conducive to thinking.
I apologized to the physics teacher for the interruption, asked for and received the projector, and began to make my way back to my own class. Obviously, I couldn't run much with that weight, so I took all the time in the world. It happened in front of the chemistry lab door. I tucked the projector under my left arm as best I could and grabbed the doorknob with my right hand. After all, I was expected, so why knock? But then, I guess not everyone behind the door was expecting me. Long story short: another door burst open right in front of me, and this time there was no escape. I lost all footing and landed unceremoniously on my backside. During the entire incident, I—as a responsible student who cares about school property—held a tight grip on the projector, thus preventing it from crashing into the stone floor and shattering into its entirety. It would have been better to let go of him and protect myself from the violent impact! But the worst part was yet to come. Once again, it was our assistant principal who, without thinking too much, flung the door open! And her reaction was very similar to the first attempt.
"My God, Daniel! You again! You're trying to give me a heart attack!"
Okay, that's it. Two vicious attempts on my life in quick succession, using my full name twice, and then pretending I was the one who caused the incidents!
"My God, Ms. Möller! You again! You're apparently trying with all your might to make me miss the pleasure of attending class because of my injury!"
She obviously wasn't expecting that response. She stared at my still-lying figure for a moment, then the corners of her mouth twitched upward, and then she burst out laughing. It was nice that at least one person found the situation funny.
"Sorry, Danny, I'm probably a little too energetic today. Or too hectic. Director Schloder broke his leg and is in the hospital, and now all the work falls on me."
Schlodderchen had broken his leg? I wonder if she had run him over too?
"I'm not sure what to think. But back to you. Did something happen to you? Are all your bones still intact?"
Well, I had to give her credit for asking about my condition and not the projector's.
"Is the projector still intact?"
I was celebrating too soon. Meanwhile, Ms. Kraus had also arrived, and I pressed the projector into her hand so that I could pick myself up again, freed from the burden. Luckily, I had once again survived a fall unscathed. It must have been due to the appropriate training.
"I'm fine, thanks for asking."
"Well, that's good then. Okay, I have to go. I have an appointment with a gentleman from the fire department, and that was... five minutes ago!"
Without giving Ms. Kraus, the projector, or me another glance, Ms. Möller dashed off to open more doors somewhere else in the building. Ms. Kraus just shook her head.
"Are you really okay, Danny?"
"Yes, really. No problem. But I think we should put warning signs on all the doors today that say 'Caution, Deputy Principal on the Loose.' Next time, things might not go so smoothly."
I probably wouldn't have been able to say that to any other member of our faculty – but Ms. Kraus laughed it off and thought it was a good idea. However, she did say that these signs should be a permanent fixture. I didn't object.
After another clever waste of "valuable" class time, we went straight to the classroom, where Ms. Kraus began to set up the projector we had fought so hard for. I wandered back to my seat and almost immediately fell back on my seat. After all, sitting directly in the row in front of me was the breathtaking door-blocker from a few minutes ago, smiling at me with sparkling eyes! Somehow, I managed to get to my chair and sit down, but I preferred not to know what I looked like at that moment. (Very) loosely based on the Erlkönig: "Reached the chair with great difficulty, and lo and behold, his head was red." How much had the blond angel noticed of my humiliating fall? One thing was already certain: in his presence, I would probably understand even less of the material than ever before. There was only one really good thing about the situation: he was sitting in front of me, so he couldn't see me literally devouring him with my eyes. Others, however, weren't so limited in their view of me. Jürgen grinned at me challengingly.
"Well, did I promise you too much yesterday?"
God, that guy was curious! I stuck my tongue out at him and turned to Thomas, only to find himself grinning no less. Resignedly, I shifted my gaze forward, looking at the back of a cute blond head, and was saved from further inquisitorial questions from my friends by the triumphant cry of Ms. Kraus, who had finally gotten the projector working. The rest of the lesson—there wasn't much left—passed agonizingly slowly. Despite Ms. Kraus, chemistry really wasn't my favorite subject.
Finally, the torture was over. When the doorbell rang, I couldn't even blink before Philipp rushed out of the room. What did that mean? In any case, his disappearance was the signal for my so-called friends to pounce on me. I didn't really realize who was attacking me.
"Hey, Danny, isn't he cute?"
"Did you see the eyes?"
»The smile!«
Of course I'd noticed all of that! And now I realized I wasn't the only one the new guy had made such a huge impression on. 10 out of 12 girls in the class rolled their eyes in delight. What did that tell me? That the other two were probably lesbians. And I had some hell of a competition! But what was I even telling myself? I had no chance with Philipp anyway. Not me. Never. That would completely contradict my life experience so far. No, no, that was even more unlikely than being overrun by Ms. Möller a third time that day. On the other hand, when I thought about the current state of our deputy, anything was possible...
Well, at least I gradually learned everything about him that I'd missed while I was busy doing transport work in another part of the building during his introduction to the class. His name was Philipp Stein, he had a younger sister who also attended our high school, and he and his family had moved here from Munich during the holidays. Well, I had fallen for a "Wessi" (Western German)! And at first glance, he didn't give off the arrogant impression that was predetermined by prejudice. Well then, let what belongs together grow together.
The next few lessons were more or less a repetition of the chemical experiences. I stared at the back of Philipp's head (and I was in good company in my staring). Philipp didn't say a word and just stared at the respective lecturer. As soon as the bell rang for break, he rushed out of the room and didn't reappear until shortly before the next lesson began. Had he perhaps already found a secret girlfriend? Of course, the idea that he might be on his way to see his little sister never occurred to me.
At lunchtime, Philipp disappeared from the room like lightning, leaving all his admirers shaking their heads. Oh well. The usual small groups formed, and five minutes later, I was sitting at our regular table with my closest friends, puzzling over what that thing on the plate could possibly be, just like every day. I had barely settled on "Boulette"—the "chef" had gone to great lengths to ensure that it could never be proven wrong—when I caught a glimpse of blond hair passing by our table out of the corner of my eye. Actually, two blond hairs. One belonged to Philipp, the other to a slightly younger girl. The family resemblance was undeniable. So, it wasn't a girlfriend after all, just the little sister. My day was saved, wasn't it? Both of them lined up way back in the queue of those still waiting for their "food," with me constantly watching them with greedy eyes. The next moment, I felt an elbow in my ribs.
"Ow! What's going on, Thomas?"
"Don't stare like that, you'll start drooling!"
"I don't!"
"You do. I don't blame you. But you're a bit conspicuous."
He was probably right. But the sight was just too captivating. I felt a little ashamed because I'd almost forgotten about Tim, but... well, what can I say. Tim was cute, sweet, and lovable—although if I wanted to wait for him, I'd probably have to wait forever. By now, I was pretty convinced that my little brother was straight. I mean, otherwise he would have tried to get his hands on me long ago, right? As irresistible as I am... So I had to look elsewhere, and Philipp... well, Philipp was definitely worth a second, and even a third, look.
To distract myself a little, I started shoveling food in. That worked pretty well, until... well, until someone suddenly came to the table and asked if there were two free seats.
My head shot up, and indeed, it was Philipp and his female companion who, in view of the rather overcrowded dining room, had to give up their self-imposed exclusion.
Luckily, I was spared from having to answer, as a few of the girls present eagerly urged the two newcomers to sit down. It was also the girls who, with their constant barrage of questions, more or less kept Philipp from eating. Considering the "quality" of the food, they were doing him a huge favor—and something that didn't come at all unwelcome: without having to reveal my own curiosity, I learned a few things about him. He was seventeen, like most of us; his sister, Veronika, was a year younger than him; he had a little brother of kindergarten age, whom he was obviously absolutely besotted with. How I envied the little rascal. The table was filled with cheerful chatter, which, however, was soon rather rudely interrupted by an interjection from the table next to him.
"Hey, Vroni, you'd better come here with your brother. As long as that gay Thom sits there, every man's ass is in danger. If I were in the same class as him, I'd always look for a seat right at the back of the room. You never know."
Dead silence. Not just at our table, but in the entire dining hall. I was stunned. Okay, I was pretty out, but not really that out. Considering the total number of students, there were definitely more who didn't know than the other way around, especially in the lower grades. "Knew for sure" as opposed to "just suspected." Or so I thought. And apart from a few minor barbs in passing, there hadn't been any major problems so far. That was over now; now the whole school knew, including Philipp. The person spreading the good news was Matthias, who was getting extra training for his rugby career, among other things, by regularly pushing younger students around. I guess I'd have to keep a close eye on my little brother's well-being. But back to the current situation.
Everyone was staring at me. Or at least I had the feeling that everyone was staring at me, waiting for my reaction. Nonsense, of course everyone was staring. Matthias had been loud enough to drown out the usual noise level in the dining room. So, how would the always calm, collected, and friendly Danny react to something like that? At that moment, I'm sure a few bets were being placed on the outcome of the events. Nobody seemed to know exactly what that outcome would be. Except for one single exception. Thomas tugged on my sleeve and whispered something in my ear.
"Danny, back off, that idiot isn't worth it."
My best friend knew full well that I had another side, one that only surfaced very, very rarely—which was probably for the best. And despite all our friendship, I couldn't resist using it this time. Or rather, I was simply unable to resist the emergence of this other side. Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader, the dark side of the Force gained the upper hand. I stood up and turned to my opponent. I have no idea how I managed it, but my voice remained calm and steady.
"Don't worry, Matthias, you're really not in any danger from me. First of all, you're anything but a man, so you don't have a man's ass that's so endangered by me. You don't even have what it takes to pass as a decent pimple on a real man's ass. And secondly, your face is so ugly that I don't even want to see your ass. After all, I have a certain amount of self-esteem."
Could "Dead Silence" actually be improved upon? If so, then now was the right time to try. However, this silence didn't last long.
"I'll finish you off, you faggot!"
In true rugby style, Matthias came running towards me and tried to pounce on me. The emphasis is on "went," because with a skillful evasive maneuver, I sent him running into empty space. Or not so empty space. Three meters behind me was a wall, and Matthias crashed into it more or less without stopping. And as used to collisions from his favorite sport as he was, a stone wall like this was considerably more unforgiving than his usual opponents. With a nasty crack, followed by his loud howl, he slid down the wall and lay there, whining and curled up. That was the end of the show for me, and as the adrenaline rush began to subside, the full extent of what had just happened slowly sank in. I realized I was on the verge of losing my composure and becoming hysterical, and to avoid that (or at least let it happen in front of a smaller audience), I fled the dining room. I had no idea where I was actually going, but a while later I found myself standing on the steps in front of the school entrance. The cold air, which I usually hate so much, helped me clear my head a bit. This, along with a little solitude, was exactly what I needed.
The latter, however, wasn't granted to me. I suddenly felt a hand on my right shoulder and managed to stop myself just in time before I seriously hurt Thomas. He immediately realized that touching me from behind so unexpectedly in this situation wasn't such a good idea.
"Hey, Danny, calm down, it's just me, no danger."
»Sorry.«
"No need for apologies. That was pretty intense, wasn't it?"
"However."
We stood next to each other in silence for a while, and I used the silence to think about what to do next.
"Danny, we should go back inside, or you'll catch your death in the cold. Not to mention me."
But I wasn't ready for that yet.
"What happened after I took off?"
"Not much, I was right behind you. Matthias kept complaining that you broke his shoulder, but everyone who was there knows that's not true."
Everyone who was there. So practically the entire school.
"As I was leaving, Tröger came marching up and sent someone to get the Möllerin."
Great. I'd already run into him twice too many times that day. I let out a deep sigh.
"Hey, don't worry. Everyone saw how that idiot provoked you. I don't think you're in any danger."
"I'm not too bothered by that guy's injury; I can live with it without losing sleep. It just bothers me that now even the last person here knows who they're dealing with."
"Oh yeah? Let me think. With one of the most balanced, friendly, helpful guys in the entire high school? With the best friend I could imagine?"
"Come on, you know exactly what I mean!"
"You haven't been so worried about what we think of you, have you?"
"Well, first of all, it's hard for you to judge. How scared do you think I was before I told you all little by little? And secondly, that's the big difference: I told you! The ones I was more or less sure would continue to accept me. And even then, I fell for a few people I didn't expect to. And now I have to live with the fact that hundreds of people suddenly know about me. Hundreds of people I have no idea how they'll react!"
"Sorry, Danny. True, it's hard for me to judge. But I still think you're worrying too much. Sure, there will be a few idiots like Matthias, but they're definitely in the minority. A huge minority."
"Your word in God's ear!"
"Just trust me. By the way, in case you're wondering, Philipp didn't seem particularly shocked or even disgusted. Except by Matthias's performance."
I looked into the grinning face of my best friend.
"Idiot."
"Nice to meet you, Copper."
Okay, Thomas had managed to make me laugh again. Well, not a full-blown laugh, but at least a smile. That seemed to be enough for him for the moment.
"Come on, let's go back inside before we freeze here."
This time I let him lead me back to school without protest. We skipped another visit to the dining hall and went straight to the classroom. On the way, we met several students from various grades, and practically everyone was staring at me. I felt more than I saw something, because most of the time I kept my head down and my eyes on the floor. When I did look up, however, I could see that most of them were looking at me with an appraising, interested expression. Not a single one gave the impression of being disgusted by the sight of me. Well, that was no reason to get too excited too soon. I had a very exciting few days and weeks ahead of me.
When I arrived in the classroom, the mood was... well, mixed. A mixture of "depressed" and "encouraging." My coming out here couldn't have been a big surprise; apart from two or three exceptions, everyone already knew. And even with those exceptions—on reflection—I wasn't entirely sure whether they hadn't found out over time. I hadn't told them to their faces, but when I talked to those who did know and the topic came up, we didn't automatically resort to whispering. The only person I could be absolutely sure about was Philipp. And fortunately, he was one of those who gave me an encouraging smile when I entered the room. The same applied, of course, to the "inner circle" of my friends.
"Great, Danny, what a performance! I never thought you could do that. Congratulations, you really blew that idiot away."
Jürgen seemed genuinely enthusiastic, which I couldn't say for myself. I had lost my temper. The temper I had worked so hard to maintain. Thomas was one of the few (and the only one in this group) who knew that there was a completely different Danny than the one they ran into every day, grinning friendly. One who didn't just walk away from attacks and hostility with the cool "fuck you" approach.
There was a phase in my life when I was probably the most unruly and unfair person imaginable. Unimaginable after everything the kind reader knows about me so far? Thank you, I consider that a compliment to the good work I've done on myself. Nevertheless, that was unfortunately completely true. One reason for this was probably my experiences with illness and death as a young child. I was convinced that the whole world was conspiring against me, and I treated everyone accordingly. Add to that the fact that I'd always been considered slightly hyperactive, and you have a few traits that—when thrown together—don't necessarily bode well. I felt sorry for my poor parents and friends even now. Once, I even managed to almost destroy my entire room in a fit of rage. And then one of the doctors who looked after me during chemotherapy came up with the idea of dragging me to his karate class. When I was more or less physically recovered, he also convinced my parents that this would be a good way to release my excess energy—and at the same time give me a target for my outbursts of anger. And what can I say: it worked. I became calmer, more balanced, and my periods of "freaking out" became less frequent, until after two or three years, they were completely a thing of the past. After my father's death, I had another difficult phase, and I suspect that if I hadn't already mastered the art of self-control by that point, I probably would have gone off the rails. It surprised and frightened me all the more that such a trivial event (compared to everything I'd experienced in my life so far) had brought me to the brink of losing control. Thomas seemed to understand this, and slowly grasp the full significance of it, and he led me to a corner of the room, where he addressed the topic in a low tone.
"Danny, are you afraid it's going to start again?"
"I don't know. Yeah. I think so. Shit."
"Don't worry too much. You didn't overreact. After all, you didn't harm him, even though you easily could have."
"Still. I simply shouldn't have reacted to it at all."
"Wrong. That was the most normal reaction imaginable. I know, I know, you don't want to go back to the way you were back then, but you can't go overboard with these efforts. Losing your temper once in a while has never hurt anyone. Quite the opposite. Keeping everything to yourself doesn't help either. Man, Danny, you're no superhuman! And in a way, it was good for all of us to see you like this. Shows that you're actually a completely normal teenager. In any case, your halo is far from being jeopardized by this little episode."
"Well, thank you very much. So you think I should just forget about it."
"No. But you shouldn't overvalue them or view them only negatively. And I promise you one thing: if I notice any signs of a real relapse into old times in you, I'll put that out of you in time, okay?"
"We'll see. I'll have to think about it a bit more. Thanks anyway."
"No problem. You've helped me out of trouble so many times, I'm almost happy to return the favor. Not that I'm happy about what happened earlier! Oh, nonsense, you know."
"It's nothing."
During this little conversation, the clock's hands had moved mercilessly forward, and the start of the next class was imminent. Just as I was about to go to my seat, what I had feared happened: Mrs. Möller strode briskly into the room.
"Everyone out except Daniel!"
Presumably, she had been a sergeant major in a previous life and had managed to carry that barracks-like tone over into her next incarnation. Within a very short time, I was alone with her in the room, and we looked at each other appraisingly. After about a minute, she got to the point.
"Danny, what am I going to do with you?"
"You could give me my diploma, and we'd be at peace with each other immediately."
"That's exactly the kind of thing that led to disaster earlier! My God, Daniel, can't you even think about what you're going to say first!"
"Sorry. But what I just said was pure self-defense. And anyway, the whole thing was triggered by something else entirely!"
"Yes, yes. I know. Matthias provoked you first."
"Not just provoked! He humiliated me in front of everyone present."
"That's all well and good, but why did you react to it at all? Several people have tried to draw you out, and so far you've always just let it slide."
"I don't know. Maybe a case of 'constant dripping wears away the stone.' Thomas thinks it was about time. Not that I'm proud of it, but I just couldn't keep still at that moment."
"Matthias claims you threw him against the wall."
"Matthias claims a lot when the day is long. Next time he'll be claiming the wall jumped at him with the intent of killing him. Anyone who looked closely can confirm that I only took a step to the side. If anything hurled him against the wall, it was his own momentum."
"Okay, a few people have already confirmed that, I just wanted to hear your own version. By the way, there's a doctor with Matthias right now. Apparently, he really did break something."
"Sorry, but he can't expect sympathy from me."
"I can understand that. Still, I'd prefer if something like that didn't happen again. I already know that in an hour or two at the latest, his parents will be at my door to complain about the intolerable, violent conditions at our school."
"The right people are complaining. If you were to conduct a survey to find out who has suffered in one way or another at the hands of their son, this room wouldn't be big enough for everyone affected."
"You're really not making this easy for me, Danny. Please, just promise me that you'll try to restrain yourself in situations like this in the future. Especially with that mouth of yours, which sometimes seems to me to warrant a gun license."
"Okay, I promise to try. But that's all I can do."
"That'll have to do for me then. Now tell me why you never mentioned your homosexuality to me."
Huh, did I just hear that right?
"Uh, Ms. Möller, but what do you expect from me? That I come to you out of pure lust and joy of life and say, 'Ms. Möller, I'm gay. Do you have a suitable boyfriend for me? Or can I at least announce it on the bulletin board?' I'm sorry, but I don't know how that has anything to do with you or anyone else. The people I wanted to know already knew before today's incident."
"You really have no idea, Danny. Right?"
"Any idea about what?"
"Are there really no rumors at this school?"
Okay, she'd done it. By now I was completely confused and had no clue what she was talking about. Luckily, the woman from Möller saw it.
"Okay. I wouldn't have thought this was actually still a secret. Danny, I live with a woman."
So, that's it. Matthias, with all his physical strength, couldn't knock me down – our deputy director managed it with a single leap. Completely without the aid of any doors.
"You... what... are you trying to say... so... you are..."
"Lesbian. If that's the word you're so desperately looking for."
I had to digest that first. I really had no idea, not even a suspicion. I couldn't remember any rumors about it. And I definitely would have remembered that!
"Well, Danny, that makes my earlier question about why you never told me irrelevant. If you didn't know we were practically in the same boat... Well. By the way, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone."
I could easily understand this wish. Even as a homosexual (that word sounds a bit pretentious, doesn't it?) student, life wasn't exactly easy, but for a teacher, it would probably be a lot worse.
"Okay, you can count on it."
"Thanks. But if you have any problems, don't hesitate to come to me, okay?"
»Okay.«
"Okay, different topic. I spoke to your mother on the phone earlier."
What? Had she called Mom and told her straight away about the dining room incident? I could hardly believe it. Not anymore. Mrs. Möller had apparently correctly interpreted my questioning expression.
"No, no, not because of Matthias! She made an appointment for tomorrow to register your stepbrother here."
"Oh, right. Yes, he'll have to change sooner than planned. Did my mother tell you what happened?"
"Indeed. Must have been pretty tough. Coming back from vacation and finding the place burned down. But tell me, do your friends know you're gay? If not, you'd better tell them right now, before they casually find out about it from our recently lit school."
"My mother has known for a long time, Tim since the day we met. It was a completely unplanned coming out, but I've never regretted it. Reinhardt, his father, has known since I was sick last December and spent a few days in the now-destroyed apartment. By the way, we prefer the term 'brother,' not 'stepbrother.'"
"Good, I'll keep that in mind. So, I think I'd better say goodbye now; we've held things up long enough. Keep your chin up, and if anything happens, you know where to find me."
"All right. Thank you, Ms. Möller."
"No problem. Oh, one more thing. I'm really not curious, but..."
"But what?"
"Any friend in sight?"
I had to grin.
"I have a few in mind, but do they see it that way?"
"Be careful not to make a declaration of love to the wrong person."
Ms. Möller raised her index finger briefly and threateningly once more, then rushed out the door and shooed the students and math teacher waiting outside back into the room, telling them to finally start the lesson. The seemingly slightly intimidated number tamer hurried to comply, leaving no time for further discussion about the mess in the dining room. Which suited me just fine.
The hour passed, and the next break followed, and during it we rushed to the gym and then to the locker rooms. Tuesday's double PE lesson was about to begin – and with it the interesting question of how my dear classmates would now behave towards me. Regarding undressing in front of the greedy eyes of the now officially school faggot. As I said, it wasn't big news for most of them, but I was, of course, especially interested in how Philipp would react.
We had barely put our things down when our sports teacher, a former "GDR professional amateur footballer," walked in cheerfully and dropped the bombshell.
"Boys, tracksuits, street shoes, hats, and gloves. A few paths still need to be cleared of snow, and each class has to sacrifice one of their PE lessons for this. In the second period, we'll only play handball."
Of course. Why should a more or less lousy school day have a happy ending? I was relieved to see that I wasn't the only one groaning in annoyance. Sure, shoveling snow wasn't so bad, but we would have rather sacrificed a chemistry or math class for that! Hannes, at 6'11, every basketball coach's dream (one had already snagged him for his team years ago), loudly expressed his displeasure.
"Mr. Breitkopf, do you even know how cold it is! Besides, it keeps snowing anyway, so there's no point in shoveling anything."
"Hannes, it's minus nine degrees, that's not cold! You can keep your long underwear on if you like. And the snow has to go, regardless of whether there's new snow or not. That's what the fire department asked Mrs. Möller today. So come on, hurry, hurry! Tools are being issued in five minutes!"
The changing began with more or less grumbling – and thankfully, there were no stupid remarks or any stupid actions. Of course, that couldn't stay that way. With so much normality, Thomas simply couldn't resist. In the middle of changing clothes, he suddenly started dancing around in front of me in a provocative manner – or rather, in his own way, "provocative" was probably what he thought of.
"Hey, Danny, you didn't want to see Matthias's ass. How about mine?"
"I've seen that flat thing a thousand times. And without any floppy, long companions on top. Besides, I'm looking for a friend, but I'm not that desperate."
I was actually expecting him to rip my head off for the last part of my speech, but no. Thomas twisted his head so he could look over his shoulder and examined his backside closely.
"Flat? I don't know. Christine seems to like him."
Okay, so let's rub some salt into his wounds.
"Keyword: Christine. Tell me, what are you blackmailing her with? She would never have gotten involved with you of her own free will."
That got through to him.
"Danny! I'll throw a shovelful of snow down your collar for that, you can count on it!"
"Boo, now I'm scared!"
The others, of course, had noticed this scene and followed it closely. The reaction was general laughter. Although—not entirely general. Philipp stood somewhat shocked on the sidelines, probably not quite sure what to make of our little squabble. Quite understandable. Anyone who didn't know that Thomas and I were best friends, and that such banter was commonplace between us, could certainly get the wrong impression from this scene. And I wasn't the only one who noticed.
"Philipp, you can laugh. Those two do this all the time; anyone who doesn't know them might think they're bitter enemies. But in truth, they love each other. It's a miracle they've never been caught kissing in the school bathroom."
My dear Jürgen, that was a huge, huge mistake. Nothing was better suited to bonding Thomas and me than a common enemy. And Jürgen had made himself that enemy with his remark. Thomas and I looked at each other, nodded, and the next moment we grabbed a struggling Jürgen from both sides and hauled him out of the locker room. We set him down in front of the door and then slammed it in his face. Now he was standing outside the door in his long, white fine-rib underwear and checked knee socks, pounding on it with both fists, desperately begging for entry. Desperate because at that moment the girls in our class were leaving their locker room and marching past Jürgen toward the sports hall. Thomas, I, and the rest of the group were having a great time, especially when the giggles of the fair ladies drifted through the door. When the rain subsided, we let Jürgen back in – his bright red head formed an interesting contrast to his white underwear…
"I'll get you back for this! Someday, when you least expect it..."
Thomas and I looked at each other, grinning. We couldn't take this threat too seriously, because even though Jürgen had easy access to butcher's axes and knives thanks to the family business, he was an extremely peace-loving fellow. He couldn't hurt a fly—let alone us, his "best friends" ;-)
"Yeah, damn it, what's wrong with you guys! The girls are already completely exhausted, and you're still jumping around in your underwear!"
Could it be that the girls weren't assigned to shoveling snow, but were supposed to have regular physical education classes? Where was the much-vaunted emancipation? They wanted the same rights as the boys; they could easily do without the same responsibilities, right? Still, none of us penal workers had the nerve to rub this in Mr. Breitkopf's face.
"Now hurry up, or you'll both have to spend hours outside!"
Now that's motivation! Within two minutes, we were fully ready for action and received our tools. Shortly after, we were battling against the white snow – and just as Hannes had feared, the steady snowfall would soon undo all our hard work. But since there was no alternative to following instructions from the teachers, we dutifully did our duty. Of course, this didn't happen without snowball fights and roughhousing, and soon some of us looked like living snowmen. I stayed out of it as much as possible and used the physical exercise to calm myself down a bit. Incidentally, if Mom could have seen me, she probably would have burst into fits of laughter. At home, she always had to "persuade" me to shovel snow by threatening me with the most draconian punishments. Then, in the middle of my best musings, a scream burst out.
"Careful, Danny!"
I saw a shadow flying toward me and took a quick step to the side. This time, not planned like with the Matthias incident, but purely reflexive. Only to immediately call myself a brainless idiot for stepping aside. What came flying toward me was none other than Philipp, on his way to the nearest pile of snow, into which he now plunged without stopping—luckily, the snow was soft, and our newcomer didn't hurt himself. I, however—well, let's put it this way: for Philipp, I would have loved to—
I liked playing the buffer. Whether such an opportunity would come again... I had my doubts. But I couldn't complain, and I couldn't let my thoughts show. So I resorted to a tried-and-true home remedy: I played Mr. Cool.
"Hey, you couldn't think of a bigger projectile on the spur of the moment! Does everyone want to run me over or knock me over today?"
Heino and Lars grinned at me and Philipp, who was getting back on his feet, without much guilt.
"You could have caught him. That would have been convenient for you, wouldn't it?"
Help, I've been seen through! Or was this just a shot in the dark? Better not even think about it. I turned to the two-legged missile that was knocking the snow off its clothes.
"Everything okay, Philipp?"
"Yeah, no problem, it was a soft landing."
He smiled at me! Philipp smiled at me! At me! Even though he knew all about me! If I were to die right now, it would be a peaceful death after a fulfilled life. But of course I didn't die, no, I just felt a strong nudge in my back and landed in the snow too. Who had done this to me again? This couldn't be true! Thomas was the culprit, and he bent down to help me up. Just wait! Just as I was about to tell him what I thought, he put his left index finger to his lips and then whispered something to me.
"Shh. Sorry, but it had to be done. You were just about to undress Philipp with your eyes. If not pounce on him and actually do it."
Hmm, was I really that out of it? Okay, okay, if I were accused of closely examining attractive boys, I would have to plead guilty a thousand times over, but I couldn't remember a blackout like the one I had just experienced for the second time regarding Philipp. I cast a furtive glance around to see if anyone else besides Thomas had noticed – but the others were already busy moving large amounts of snow and showed no reaction. Philipp had also grabbed his shovel again and was pushing it into the snow, but he glanced briefly in my direction again. Still smiling. Phew. Now it was time for some relief. And a little gratitude.
"Thanks, Thomas. Please keep an eye on me. I'm apparently not quite sane right now."
"No problem. It's nice that I'm the one who can help you for a change. If I keep this up for another ten or twenty years, we'll be even."
"Hmm, that seems like a bit of a stretch, given your own inclinations, but that's a bit optimistic. But hey, it wasn't bad for a start."
"I'm glad you so generously acknowledge my achievement."
"It's a pleasure and an inner need for me."
Now we too set about tackling the white masses with shovels, and a while later, at least a narrow passage between the gymnasium and the boiler house was cleared. However, no one had been looking at their watch during all the shoveling, and the same probably applied to our sports teacher, who had disappeared for warmer climes right at the beginning and now reappeared rather harried.
"Guys... pant... I completely lost track of time! I'm really sorry."
I looked at my watch and saw that not only had the entire first hour passed, but we'd already spent a good quarter of an hour of the second hour unplanned in the snow. Wonderful. Hadn't he really planned it exactly that way?
"Handball isn't worth it anymore. A good suggestion: you play for another ten minutes, then you can stop, change, and go home."
Well, that was at least a word! This way, we'd be able to leave the school grounds a good twenty minutes earlier. So we plunged back into work, and this time Mr. Breitkopf was back exactly ten minutes later, gathered our work equipment, and sent us to the locker room. Naturally, everyone was in a hurry to get back into their regular clothes, and just a few minutes later, we were breathing cold but fresh air. This must be how a long-time inmate feels on release day.
The crowd slowly dispersed until finally only Thomas and I were left, ready to make our way home, mostly together. But wait, where had Philipp gone? I looked after the various groups, but couldn't spot him anywhere. Although that wouldn't have been easy with the sea of hats, scarves, and thick jackets. Of course, as usual, my best friend always noticed what he wasn't supposed to.
"Are you looking for someone specific?"
Slowly but surely, I'd probably learn to hate his smug grin. If I were capable of hating anything about Thomas.
"Don't ask such stupid questions. Have you seen him anywhere?"
"No. Yes!"
»Well, what now?«
"Turn around discreetly, he's just coming out of the school gate."
Okay, turning around to look at Philipp without noticing was probably a bit much to ask – which Thomas certainly knew. My head jerked around, and sure enough: there came my new dream boy, strolling very slowly from the prison… er, sorry, schoolyard. All in dark blue: hat, scarf, jacket, jeans, shoes. I had no idea how I was going to survive seeing him every day from now on. Unlike me, the sight didn't leave Thomas speechless. Which is exactly what I wanted to advise him.
"Where are you staying for so long? Did you like it so much on the first day that you don't want to leave?"
Again the smile on Philipp's face, this time in both of our directions.
"Don't worry, I'd rather be out of here long ago. But I have to wait for my sister."
"Well, thank God, I thought we'd caught a nerd."
"Well, not that. You're Thomas, right?"
"Exactly. I expect you'll have trouble with all those names for a while, right?"
"Well, I'll try to remember them all."
He turned to me.
"Danny, if I remember correctly."
Oh God, he spoke to me! He remembered my name! And I felt unable to utter a single word in response! Thankfully, the Good Samaritan Thomas stepped in for me again. He was apparently actually working on paying off some of his debts to me regarding rescuing people from desperate situations.
"True. But don't expect an answer from him now. He's been out in the cold for more than 90 seconds, so he's starting to freeze."
Philipp laughed. Okay, unlike Thomas, I would even forgive him for laughing at me.
"Is he really that sensitive?"
Completely unexpectedly, I managed to answer him personally this time.
"Yep. Grab a dictionary, look up the term 'frostbite,' and lo and behold, you'll find a picture of me."
This earned me a quiet laugh from Philipp and a surprised, almost horrified look from Thomas. The latter hadn't expected me to regain control of my speech so quickly. Especially since he knew full well that the brief disruption was due less to the low temperatures than to the presence of our new classmate.
"Then you'd be the ideal victim for my mother. She's always nagging us to dress properly."
"Thanks, no need. I already have one of those at home. Although I voluntarily follow this kind of instruction out of pure self-preservation. Now, tell me, what do you think of it here in our own little limbo?"
Philipp thought for a moment.
"Well, actually, it's pretty good. The teachers are all a bit old, aren't they?"
Ha! So I wasn't the only one who noticed. Although, strictly speaking, everyone here has probably moaned about it at least once.
"The students seem to be doing quite well. With a few exceptions, of course."
Oh, oh, I could only hope that he didn't count me among those exceptions. But fortunately, my fears in that regard were quickly dispelled.
"This Matthias seems like a real idiot."
"Indeed! I hope Danny's elegant evasive maneuver puts him out of action for a while. That guy has already tried to pick a fight with everyone here. At least with everyone he thinks is physically superior to him. Unfortunately, that's most of them. As opposed to intellectually superior. He'll probably have trouble keeping up with the janitor's poodle."
"Well, Thomas! That comparison is a blatant insult! For the poodle, I mean."
Now all three of us were laughing out loud, and just as I was wondering what topic I could use to keep the conversation going, a thickly wrapped up, two-legged creature, almost comparable to me in this respect, but significantly smaller, suddenly came rushing towards us and, with a scream, jumped into the quickly outstretched arms of our newcomer.
»Flip!«
Thomas and I looked at each other questioningly. Flip? The person being addressed was spinning rapidly in a circle, whirling the something—which had now turned out to be a little boy—through the air. The something seemed to be delighted, because it squealed happily at the top of its lungs. Meanwhile, someone else had approached us unnoticed.
"Hello Philip."
We turned toward the voice, and before us stood a tall woman, whose sight immediately made it clear to me where Philipp got his blond hair and blue eyes. This must be his mother, and thus the well-shaken little thing his little brother. With a warm smile, she looked at her sons, who were now also acknowledging her presence.
"Hello Mom."
This confirmed my suspicion.
"I see you've already made two new friends?"
Philipp looked questioningly at Thomas and me, his head tilted slightly and now carrying his brother piggyback.
"I hope so. I'd be happy."
What a question! I really didn't need to be asked that one. Once again, Thomas relieved me of the need to answer.
"Clear."
A relieved smile appeared on Philipp’s face.
"Mom, this is Thomas and Danny. Thomas, Danny—my mother."
Hands were shaken, and Mrs. Stein also seemed pleased that her eldest son had already found his place. If only she knew what was going on in my head regarding her son...
In the midst of these thoughts, a whining sound sounded, and Philipp reacted immediately.
"Of course, how could I have forgotten! Guys, this is my brother, Kevy."
"Kevin! My name is Kevin, not Kevy!"
»Okay, Kevy.«
The little man drummed his big brother's shoulders indignantly. He didn't seem to mind in the slightest; he just grinned to himself. The whole thing with the names reminded me of something, though.
"Say, did I hear that right? Flip?"
This time it was Mrs. Stein who intervened in the conversation to explain.
"When Kevy was little, even smaller than he is now, he had trouble pronouncing the name Philipp, so it became 'Flip'. Now he could say Philipp, but he doesn't, so 'Flip' stuck. Even we mostly call him that now."
"Thanks, Mom. From tomorrow on, everyone here will probably just call me Flip."
Why not, it wasn't that bad.
"Hey, still better than Philly, right?"
Thomas had read my mind. Since when could he do that? That was actually more my strength.
"How about Phil?"
Oh no, I liked Flip much better.
"Out of the question, that sounds so old-fashioned. Besides, when I hear 'Phil,' I always think of Phil Collins – and you certainly don't look anything like him. Luckily for you."
And my own, of course. Okay, the musician in question was definitely one of my favorite sound producers, but I couldn't find anything appealing about him in terms of looks. Quite the opposite of 'Flip.' The latter resigned himself to his fate.
"Okay, okay. Kevy, I'll never forgive you!"
The little brother was now back on his feet and seemed thrilled to have embarrassed his big brother. He bravely stuck his tongue out into the cold.
»Wow!«
Before Philipp could pounce on him and do who knows what to him, he quickly ran behind his mother and hid there. The woman, in turn, looked around, somewhat confused.
"Hey, where is Veronika? Why is she dawdling around after school?"
"Mom, she's not dawdling. Her class just finished. We were allowed to leave a few minutes early. She'll probably show up here soon."
"Well, that's good then. Right, I was wondering why you were already out. I thought I'd gotten the time wrong."
At that moment, the large school door opened, and a mass exodus began. Shortly afterward, we saw Philipp's sister among a group of her classmates. When she saw us, she waved briefly, then said goodbye to her group and wandered over to us. Followed by the glances of the others, who were certainly somewhat surprised to see Thomas, and especially me, in the company of her brother. The glances were partly curious, partly arrogant, amused, but also shocked. An interesting mix. Meanwhile, Veronika had joined us.
»Hello Mutti. Kevy.«
The latter started crying indignantly again and complained loudly about the "defacement" of his name, but no one paid any attention. I noticed, however, that he didn't greet his sister nearly as enthusiastically as he did his brother (which I could easily understand ;-). And the next thing I noticed was that Veronika was looking me up and down with a veritable x-ray vision, finally staring me straight in the eyes. I had never experienced such a thorough examination before; I almost had the impression that she wanted to peer into the furthest corners of my soul. Extremely unpleasant, especially when you didn't know the reason for this behavior. Was this purely out of interest in the "black sheep," in something new? Or what was going on in her – admittedly pretty – head? She didn't offer an explanation, though.
"Can we? I'm starting to get cold."
With these words, she turned away and marched towards the parking lot.
"Huh, my little daughter is in a hurry to get out of here. Okay. So, guys, it was nice to meet you. Bye."
And Mrs. Stein followed her daughter, taking little Kevy by the hand and pulling her along. Only Philipp remained with Thomas and me. And he, too, said goodbye.
"I have to go. I'm afraid we'll see each other here tomorrow. I mean, I'm afraid we'll see each other here again. Not that we'll see each other again."
Thomas's and my brains were once again working in unison, as our response came in stereo.
"See you tomorrow, Flip."
Our counterpart cast a resigned glance up at the sky, then gave us another quick smile and hurried after his family. That was the signal for Thomas and me to finally head home. We walked side by side in silence for two or three minutes, then Thomas once again jabbed his elbow into my thankfully thickly padded ribs.
"Congratulations, Danny."
"Ow! What do you mean?"
"You handled yourself well around Philipp. You didn't lunge at him, you didn't throw yourself at him, you didn't get red in the face, and you even managed to get complete sentences out. I'm proud of you."
"You have no idea how difficult this was for me."
"Oh, don't say that. I still have a faint memory of what it was like the first time I fell in love with a girl. I was hot and cold, shaking, and couldn't utter a single word in her presence."
"So, what did your kindergarten teacher say about that?"
"Idiot! Kindergarten, what do you think of me?"
Thomas stopped and looked at me indignantly.
"Kindergarten, really! That was in daycare! I'm not a late bloomer like you. But hey, better late than never, right?"
"The main thing is not to be late."
"Hey, Philipp makes a really good impression."
"Too good to be true. But I'm glad he obviously doesn't have a problem with me being gay."
"Problems? Man, Danny, that guy has a crush on you! Maybe not as much as you have on him, but still."
"Come on, Thomas, stop it! If I don't have a 'gaydar,' where would you get it from? I was paying close attention, and he didn't give any signals. Philipp is just looking for friends at the new school."
"Believe what you want. I was paying close attention, too, and the way Flip looked at you gave me very clear signals. I can already see you two showing up at the graduation party as a couple."
Hmm. A very pleasant thought. Nevertheless. I continued to believe that there was nothing that could give this hope any ground. We marched on, then we came to the point where our paths diverged.
"Danny, can I come over to your place later? I need peace and quiet for this stupid math homework, and I definitely won't find that at home."
"Okay, no problem. Do you want to come with me right now?"
"Nope, I want to get rid of a few things first, eat something, and jump in the shower. I'll be there around four, if that's okay with you."
"Sure. So, see you then."
»Tschau.«
I walked the rest of the way at a brisk pace, and it occurred to me that I had voluntarily endured quite a long time in the cold. And while we were with Philipp, I hadn't even felt the cold! Oh man, what that boy was doing to me!
When I got home, I realized I was all alone. No Tim, no Reinhardt, no Mutsch—no one there. Only a note on the table saying they were out shopping. Again? So Tim's side of the closet was actually quite full. Anyway, I used the time to get out of my school clothes and do what Thomas had said I would do: I went into the shower and rinsed the day's sweat off my body. And even there, images of our new Saxon followed me—I'll refrain from a detailed description of the following activities for reasons of child protection...
Anyway, as usual, I completely lost track of time under the warm water, and was punished for it (also as usual). Clean as a kitten and dried off, I left the bathroom in the nude and entered the supposedly empty room—a big mistake, as I immediately realized when I saw Tim burst into peals of laughter.
"Haha, tell me, Danny, you seem to have an exhibitionist streak after all! Or why do you always show yourself naked?"
I put the car in reverse at top speed and grabbed a beach towel, which I wrapped around my waist (unfortunately, much too late). And I realized that I now had to take the moral offensive, at least.
"You're just jealous that you don't have a model body like mine, Tim!"
"Oh yes, that will be it!"
I decided to change the subject before it became too embarrassing.
"Hey, where have you been today? Shopping? I think you got everything done yesterday."
"Clothes-wise, yes, but Maria said today that since she now has three hungry, insatiable mouths to feed, the food supplies needed to be restocked. So we all went to the supermarket together. And you must have been in the shower for quite a while again if you didn't notice we came back. It took us quite a while to lug all the food into the house and put it away."
"Okay, okay, guilty as charged."
I decided it was time to replace the towel with something more appropriate, and since I'd obviously forgotten to get some fresh clothes before my trip underwater, I headed for the closet. The search took a little longer than usual, as the new order in the closet meant that nothing was left where it had lain for years, making it so memorable. In the end, I was successful, wandered over to my bed, and began to dress myself up for home. As I slipped into my boxer shorts, I suddenly noticed that my little brother had become quite quiet. Not at all like him, at least not since he'd overcome some of his shyness. Certainly disturbing, and I cast a searching glance in his direction. Tim was sitting on his bed, staring into space with a serious expression. Highly suspicious.
"Hey, Tim, what's wrong with you all of a sudden?"
The only response was a deep sigh, and now I was really starting to worry about him. So I got up and, in a few steps, crossed the distance from my bed to his, where I sat down next to him.
"Tim, what is it? Can I help you in any way?"
"No."
I wondered what could have suddenly come over him. I mean, one minute he was joking with me and laughing at me, and now all of a sudden he was sitting around completely depressed. Was this still the aftereffects of the apartment fire? I couldn't really imagine it; he'd seemed to be handling it quite well over the last few days. So I had no choice but to keep probing.
"Tim, I once told you that you could talk to me about anything. So come on, no secrets, what's bothering you? You'll see, if you talk about it, it'll be much easier."
"I do not believe that."
"Just try it, okay?"
Tim, who had been staring out the window until now, turned to me and looked into my eyes. His own eyes weren't nearly as sparkling as I'd come to love them over the past few weeks. Something really intense seemed to be going on in his cute head. My little brother sighed again, but seemed to have come to a decision.
"Okay, if you say so."
"There you go. Go ahead and shoot."
"Danny, do you remember how I discovered you were gay?"
"How could I ever forget! The screensaver thing was one of the frequent moments of my mental derangement."
Tim's mouth twitched upwards for a moment, but he immediately became serious again.
"Do you remember what we talked about after that?"
"I think so, what exactly do you mean?"
"You asked me... you asked me if I... if I was gay too."
A direct hit. What was going on in Tim's head was truly intense. And thoughts were racing through my head, too. What would happen next? Did I actually have a chance with my little brother?
"Right. And you answered that you weren't sure."
"Exactly."
"And?"
"I think I know the answer now."
Now I was the one who was on tenterhooks. No matter what the answer was, I wanted to know! Why was he keeping me in suspense for so long?
"Danny, would you be very angry with me if I weren't gay?"
Damn, wrong answer. But should I be mad at Tim for that? Okay, I did feel a little disappointed, but mad? No, I really wasn't mad at him. Strictly speaking, that was just the final confirmation of what I'd been suspecting more and more over the past few weeks.
"Man, Tim, how did you come up with that? Is that why you were so down?"
"Sure! I mean, I've definitely confused you with my insecurity, maybe even given you false hope! I wouldn't blame you if you were angry with me right now."
"Okay, calm down and write this down. Tim, I'm not mad at you if you're not gay. Not a bit. I can hardly imagine anything I could be mad at you for. In case you little nutcase haven't noticed: I love you. Even if it can only be love for you as a brother."
"Really?"
"Really. Tim, I'm happy for you. Not because you're not gay, but because you're obviously now clear about yourself."
I had barely gotten the last word out when Tim threw himself into my arms.
"Thank you, Danny, thank you! I was so worried! I was afraid you'd drop me."
"Now I should be seriously offended. Do you really have such a low opinion of me?"
I should have kept that in mind, because the tears of joy suddenly turned into real, sad ones.
"I'm sorry, I realize now how stupid and mean I was to think that. But... but I was so afraid of losing you, I couldn't have survived it!"
"It's okay, little brother. I promise you'll never lose me, okay?"
»Okay.«
"Good. So, I suggest you go to the bathroom and freshen up a bit. You look much prettier without your tear-stained face."
Finally, there it was again, that shy smile I liked so much about him. Tim gave me one last quick but passionate hug, then did as I'd told him and disappeared into the bathroom. Which gave me time, on the one hand, to finish getting dressed and, on the other, to think about what had just happened. So my cute little brother wasn't into boys. Another setback, what a loss. For me, I mean. Certainly not for him. And Reinhardt—despite his great acceptance of me—certainly wouldn't be upset about it either. What was left to do now? Not much, when I thought about it. I had to accept it, and I would be able to accept it. As I said, it hadn't really been a surprise anymore. Okay, at least things were clear now, not bad either. Even if I would have liked them better with a different overall tone. But enough ifs and buts! Tim's return from the bathroom conveniently tore me out of my thoughts.
"Come here and let me take a look at you. Well, you look even better now."
The difference was really quite clear. Wait a minute, something just occurred to me. Maybe I should be a little more careful with comments like that in the future.
"Tell me, Tim, does it bother you when I make comments like that? About your looks, I mean."
Now he was no longer smiling, now he was laughing!
"No, as long as they're compliments, I have no problem with that!"
"Well, then I'm relieved. You won't hear anything else from me anyway. I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable. Especially if I let such things slip out in front of others."
"Don't worry. Danny, I may not love you as much as you might like, but I still love you as my big brother. And I certainly won't complain if my big brother tells me he thinks I'm handsome."
"Not even if he thinks you're 'pretty' or 'cute'?"
"Cute? Well, I'll have to think about that. After all, I'll be seventeen soon, so a boy doesn't necessarily want to look 'cute' anymore."
"But you do, I'm sorry. At least in my eyes. And I expect that starting tomorrow, a few more people will join your throng of admirers. Mostly girls, of course. Which probably won't bother you too much, right?"
"Hey, I know now that I like girls. But that doesn't mean I'm going to jump at the nearest female!"
"I certainly hope so! You're my brother now, which means that everything you do ultimately reflects on me. So you have to look after not only your reputation, but also mine. By the way, how did you come to the conclusion that you're more into girls?"
"Well, I've been thinking about it a lot over the past few weeks. I told you that I didn't really have a reason to before, but that changed when I met you. So I've been going back and forth, trying to figure out whether I prefer looking at girls or boys, what I think about when I... uh, well, you know... Hey, don't grin so dirty, I'm just a hormonal teenager!"
"All right, all right! I'm not laughing at you! I can really empathize with you on this topic."
"Okay. Well, little by little, I realized that I couldn't imagine doing it with a boy. At first, I thought, well, maybe with you, but later... I realized I loved you in a different way. And then I got scared that you might be angry with me for it."
"Tim, I would be angry with you if you did something for my sake that you didn't really want to do."
"I know that. Now. Whatever. I know what I want from life now. A pretty girl and, someday, lots of kids—for whom you'll definitely be the best uncle in the world."
"It would be my pleasure."
"Well, and then I was faced with the big question of conscience: should I tell you or not? As I said, I was afraid you would reject me, but on the other hand, I wanted to avoid giving you even more false hope. You know the rest of the story."
"Will you tell your father too?"
"Dad? Why?"
"Well, we had a brief conversation about you a few days ago. After we were found in bed together on Sunday morning. He asked me if you were gay, too."
"So, what did you answer?"
"The truth: that I have no idea. And that's something he'd better ask you himself."
"How did he react?"
"Pretty cool. He agreed with me and even apologized for even asking me that question. And then he said that if it ever came to pass, I should tell you that he wouldn't have a problem with it and you shouldn't worry."
"I wouldn't have expected anything else."
"Oh, and one more thing. He said he'd be happy for us if we became a couple."
"Oh shit, I hope he's not disappointed now!"
"I don't think so. In fact, I think he'll be quite happy to hear that he can hope for grandchildren after all. My mother, too, by the way. Reinhardt probably just wanted to make it clear that we don't need to worry, no matter what happens."
"Well, then I'm relieved. Okay, different topic. How was your day?"
"Highly... interesting."
“Positively interesting or negatively interesting?”
"Both and also."
"Speak up, Pursche, and don't let them drag every word out of you!"
"And I always thought I spoke with my mouth and not my nose."
»Aargh!«
"All right, all right. In short: frozen, bored, forced into slavery, saw God, got a slap in the face, got my butt bruised, saw God again, fell head over heels in love, outed myself to the whole school, fended off a brutal attack, nearly went hysterical, calmed down again, was let in on a great secret, experienced true friendship, sentenced to slavery again, joked with God, and then came home. You know the rest."
"Could you be a tiny bit more specific? I'm supposed to have a lot of imagination, but not that much."
So I had no choice. I told Tim everything I'd experienced in just a few hours. Without mentioning my "dark past," though. I'd probably tell Tim about it someday, too, but not today. During this story, my counterpart's jaws alternately dropped and his eyes bulged. When I finished, he stared at me, seemingly unsure what to say. So I took the floor again.
"As you can see, I've had an exciting day. By the way, please forget about the fact that our deputy is a lesbian. Or at least keep it to yourself, understood?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure. Tell me, did all that really happen? You didn't just make it up to make a nice dramatic story, for example, for the internet?"
"What kind of story?"
I was given another mischievous grin. God, the little one was cute! I'd have to be extremely careful that he didn't end up with the wrong woman.
"Don't act like that, big brother, I know some of your bookmarks by now. Nifty's Archive, ASSGM, Nick's Stories... Do I need to be more explicit?"
"You don't have to, thanks! But to answer your question, there's nothing in my description of today that's a lie or made up."
"Okay, then I'll believe you."
Hmm. Now I'd really be interested to know what other websites he'd visited. Or had he even found my massive jpg collection on my hard drive? Well, he already got a taste of it on our first afternoon together.
"So, this Philipp is your type?"
I thought for a moment about how to respond, and when I opened my mouth I was immediately interrupted.
"Don't say a word, I can see it in your eyes. Man, you've been hit! And I'm worried you'll fall into depression because of my unavailability!"
"Uh, well, your heterosexual outing wasn't that surprising to me. I kind of suspected it. Don't ask me why, but it became clearer to me every day that I probably wouldn't have a chance with you."
"And you just throw yourself at the first handsome boy you see?"
A quick glance in Tim's direction showed me that he hadn't meant that question seriously at all.
"Hey, I have to figure out where I'm going! Besides, I didn't throw myself at Philipp!"
"Not yet!"
"Exactly."
At that moment our little verbal banter was interrupted by the doorbell.
"That must be Thomas, he wants to do his homework here."
"Why, does he need your help?"
"No, he just needs the peace and quiet that usually prevails here. All I'm saying is: three younger sisters. By the way, just for your information: the sister who's your age is already taken."
This remark caused a pillow to fly toward my head, reaching its destination just as Thomas opened the door. The very opening of the door briefly distracted me, so it was too late for any evasive action.
"On your watch!"
I pounced on Tim and treated him to the therapy his father had tried and tested. I can swear under oath that my stepfather's son was at least as ticklish as I was.
Meanwhile, Thomas – largely unnoticed and unobserved by us, after all we had other things to do – had entered the room and was taking in the scene before him.
"Damn, and I thought I could do my math stuff here in peace! I might as well go right away, or do you have a quiet little room somewhere else for me?"
I decided to end my attack on Tim. After all, despite all the joy I felt about the new family situation, there was one thing I couldn't forget: Thomas had been my best friend for many years, and it would be truly unfair if I were to withdraw too much of my attention from him now. Sure, Reinhardt and Tim's arrival had changed a lot in the house, and Thomas would have to accept that, at least here, my full attention wouldn't be on him anymore. But I would have to try to find a middle ground that would be fair to everyone.
"We're already quiet, Thomas. Sit down, I'll be right there. I just need to gather my things."
Getting up from Tim's bed, I grabbed my school bag and whatever else I needed, and then sat down next to Thomas at the desk, where he was already laying out his stuff. I cast a quick glance in my brother's direction.
"Sorry, Tim, but homework comes first."
"No problem. I'll just jump in the shower in the meantime; all that lugging today was pretty exhausting."
"Do that, you should get out of those warm clothes anyway, otherwise Mom will have fits when she sees you walking around the well-heated house fully clothed."
I turned back to my desk, and soon Thomas and I were immersed in math problems. They weren't nearly as difficult as Thomas made out, but he always exaggerated things like that. Anyway, we were finished 20 minutes later and could sit back comfortably. Thankfully, all the other teachers had still waived homework.
"What's Caren doing? How's her arm?"
"She's well enough to keep everyone else on their toes. Bring me this, please, turn on that, please, please put on that CD. You'd think she hurt her foot instead of her arm. I'm fairly out of the way, but you have no idea what goes on in the girls' room! The Chinese idea of the one-child family is becoming more and more appealing to me."
"Uh, little hint: then you wouldn't be born. If I may remind you, you have an older brother."
"Yeah, but for a great guy like me, my parents would definitely have accepted the appropriate punishment."
"Well, imagination is also an education. Tell me, are your parents expecting any new children yet?"
"Argh! If they want to drive me out of my house and property for good—go ahead! Then I'll just move in with you."
"Sorry, but we're fully booked now. Why don't you try Christine's? I think her parents like you that way."
"Of course they do, how could they resist an old-school gentleman like me? But move in there? Nah, I don't think so. They have a huge wolfhound."
Thomas had a terrible fear of dogs. Ever since he was bitten by one. Conveniently, not by a dog commensurate with his size, meaning a decently large one; no, Thomas had chosen a tiny Pekingese. To this day, I still don't understand how that creature with its scrunched-up snout had managed to sink its tiny teeth into my best friend's calf. But no matter what, since that day, Thomas has given every dog a wide berth, regardless of whether it was a fierce German Shepherd or a miniature version resembling a barking guinea pig.
"Haha, the courtesy dog, so to speak!"
"You can say that out loud. As long as he's there, I don't even dare touch Christine while we're sitting next to each other."
"You poor thing. The sacrifices you have to make..."
Thomas was excused from answering by the slamming of the bathroom door.
"I'm back!"
While I was closing the notebooks and books, Thomas turned to Tim, who had reappeared, looked briefly at the clock and then back at my little brother.
"You really fit in well with Danny. Half an hour in the shower isn't far off his usual schedule."
"We're just a clean bunch!"
"Yeah, yeah, if you believe it. Tell me what you're doing in there. Uh, wait, I know..."
»Was!?!«
"I didn't say anything! Just... it's nicer with a girl! Okay, Danny, for you, it's definitely better with a boy."
The smug grin stretched across Thomas's entire face. Tim, whose head briefly flushed bright red, apparently decided it was better not to make a big deal about it and wandered over to us.
"Well, is your homework finished?"
»Yep.«
"Should I check?"
"Haha, as if you little brat had any idea!"
My dear Thomas, if you didn't get yourself into trouble with that comment, that comes from not knowing that you're dealing with a straight-A student, regardless of whether they're a year younger or not.
"Shall we bet?"
All my subtle attempts to prevent Thomas from accepting this suggestion went completely unnoticed.
"Sure! What are we betting on?"
"If I win, that is, if I find something wrong with you, then you have to talk to Philipp and ask him if he can imagine going out with Danny."
Oh God, Tim couldn't be serious! I wasn't even going to bet, so why did he drag me into this?
"Tim, please stop! If anyone is talking to Philipp, it should be me, right?"
"Sorry, I just wanted to help you!"
"Thanks, but like I said, this is my business, okay?"
"Okay. All right. If I win, Thomas has to bring me food at school for two weeks."
"Agreed. And if I win, you'll have to take the dog away from Christine and me for two weeks when we're supposed to walk him."
"What do you mean?"
"It's simple: if we want to go out together in the afternoon, we almost always have to take the dog with us. You meet us then, take the dog from us for an hour or two so we can have some peace and quiet, and before we return, you bring the giant beast back to us."
"Okay. I love dogs."
"Not me! So go ahead, look at the things and be amazed. You're guaranteed not to find a single mistake."
"We'll see."
Tim bent over Thomas's notebook and carefully studied what we'd added up. Well, if he was a dog fan, he couldn't really lose. On the other hand, it wouldn't be such a bad idea to bring good old Thomas down from his cloud for a bit. Although, that would mean I'd messed up, too. While Tim sifted through everything, Thomas became more and more confident of victory, until... yes, until Tim's eyes suddenly lit up and the corners of his mouth twitched upward.
"Here, you should take another closer look at the task."
"Never!"
Doubting Thomas, how fitting. Of course, Tim was right, as we discovered after a brief study of the problem. Worst of all, it wasn't a calculation error, but a simple typo. But whatever, wrong remained wrong.
"Welcome to the waitresses' guild, Thomas."
"Ha, ha! You can't help but mock me, you didn't notice either. We should actually take turns serving Tim for the next two weeks."
"No way! After all, I didn't bet, you were so excited about the idea. Now you have to live with the consequences."
"What's up, Tim, is there any way I can talk my way out of this?"
"No chance."
"Great. You know what, this area is too dangerous for me. I'd rather get out of here before I get myself involved in anything else stupid."
Tim and I shot up our heads to try to figure out what Thomas meant by that, but he grinned at us and we were reassured.
"I didn't mean it like that, guys, but I really have to go, otherwise everyone at home will start asking me where I've been. My poor sister is lying there dying."
"What about your sister? Which one, Caren?"
"Yep, Caren. It's a long story, so let Danny tell you."
Thomas packed his things and made his way to the bedroom door.
"You don't need to bring me down, I'll figure it out on my own. See you tomorrow then."
And he was gone.
"Hey, Danny, I hope you're not mad at me about the mistake."
"No, really not. It was quite funny. I don't think Thomas will underestimate you again anytime soon."
I turned on the TV, we sat down on my bed, and just as I was about to ask Tim what we were going to do with the rest of the day, there was a knock on the door. It opened, and my mother ushered another visitor into the room. Strange, I hadn't even heard the doorbell.
"Guys, I brought someone for you. Ralph was just about to ring the bell when Thomas left the house."
"Hello Danny, Tim. I hope I'm not disturbing you."
"No, come in, take a seat. What's up?"
"Uh, I'd like to talk to Danny for a few minutes, if that's okay."
I looked at Tim, who looked at me, and he got the hint.
"I'll just go into the kitchen and see if I can find something edible."
Now my mother joined in the conversation again.
"Tim, could you get dressed and run a quick errand? I just realized I'm out of milk."
"No problem, I just need to dry my hair."
"Oh, you were in the shower, I suppose? Then it won't work for you, it'll take too long. You're staying here. Ralph, can you discuss this with Danny on the way?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure, no problem."
"Then go on, Danny, get dressed. You're going to the supermarket with Ralph."
So, back out into the cold, fine. But I knew my mother, there was no argument; I had to go for it. I started putting on my clothes, and half an hour later I was ready to go. Well, it didn't take quite that long. At the front door, my mother handed me money and a shopping list, because of course I hadn't stopped at just a carton of milk.
"Can I take the Mercedes?"
"Of course! Keep dreaming, boy. Come on, let's go, I need the milk! And don't dawdle on the way home, or the potatoes will freeze."
Somehow, I had the stupid feeling that even after passing my driving test, I'd never be allowed behind the wheel of her favorite toy. So, Ralph and I had no choice but to walk to the supermarket a few streets away. We walked side by side in silence for a few minutes. On the one hand, I was curious to know what was on Ralph's mind, but on the other, I didn't want to rush him. Just when the silence had gotten too long and I was about to abandon my good intention, Ralph started to speak.
"Hey, Danny, I'm sorry about what happened at school today."
"Me too. But I hope Matthias is even more sorry."
"Are you mad at me for not saying anything? I mean, that would have taken some of the pressure off you."
"Angry with you? Why? Listen: who you tell and when is entirely up to you. I certainly won't interfere. I know myself how difficult it is, and the desire has to come from you."
"Okay, thanks. I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."
"As I said, that's entirely your decision. But what I'm interested in now is..."
»And?«
"What were the reactions in your class?"
"Different. In any case, everyone was happy that that idiot Matthias had finally gotten the wrong guy."
This could actually turn out to be a positive side effect. As already mentioned, Matthias had already been giving almost everyone at school a hard time, and if I was now seen as the one who had given him a good slap in the face, perhaps some would be willing to overlook the actual cause of the argument—namely, my being gay.
"The girls were all cool, probably a little disappointed that they no longer have a chance with you."
But hey, since when was I the biggest girl crush at our illustrious educational institution? Especially among girls two years younger than me. Did they really have their hopes set on me? Brrr, better not even think about it.
"Two or three guys were acting macho, but most of them simply didn't care at all."
Two or three potential idiots per class, I could live with that average.
"That actually sounds pretty good. If it looks like that in all classes, I won't complain."
"Let's hope for the best."
Meanwhile, we had arrived at the temple of consumption, first filled the shopping cart, then the carrying basket, and were already on our way back.
"Tell me, how are things going with you and Christoph?"
"I'm going skiing with him and his parents this weekend."
Ralph's face literally lit up with excitement. Well, who could blame him? I was once again experiencing a severe bout of envy and could only hope it didn't show on my face.
"So everything's really okay with the respective parents?"
"Yes, everything's great."
"And what about Katja, is she causing you any trouble?"
"She doesn't even dare to look at me or Chris sideways. Our parents seem to have given her a good dressing down after the party last year."
Served her right. And I was honestly happy for Ralph that he was so lucky with his old folks. We had now arrived home, and as instructed, we had hurried back – well, I couldn't stand frozen potatoes either. And I certainly couldn't stand frozen Danny, and it was actually colder than I liked.
"Danny, thanks for spending time with me, I'm heading home."
"Don't feel like coming in for a bit?"
"I'd like to, but no time. Chris is coming over tonight with his parents to discuss the weekend."
»Well then, have fun.«
"Thanks! Bye."
"Same to you."
I turned onto the property, opened the front door, and dropped off my purchases in the kitchen. Just as I was about to slip off my jacket, I heard a scream that sounded just like my mother.
"Danny! Didn't you bring any eggs?"
"No, why? They weren't on the note."
"Damn! You were barely gone when the last three fell out of my hand. But it felt like I'd written eggs down. Are you sure there was nothing on the note?"
"No! Here, I still have it, look!"
"Yes, yes, I believe you. Damn, now I remember. They were on the note from this morning. And we forgot them just like the milk."
"Great work, Mom. You write a note and even forget what's on it."
"I know exactly what you're about to say, so keep it to yourself! Don't start talking about early Alzheimer's. I'm sorry, but you have to go again. We're having egg salad for dinner, and that won't work without eggs."
"You've been seen through! You're doing this on purpose so you can chase me out the door in the cold."
"I would never do that to you! I would have called after you, but you were already too far away."
"Excuses, excuses. You know what? Give me a cell phone, then you can reach me anytime. And I'll save myself the hassle of making two trips."
"It's come to this! You'll keep calling 0190 sex numbers, and I'll have to pay for it."
"Damn, I've seen through it!"
"Exactly. So go ahead, push off."
What else could I do? I set out on the now familiar path. In the supermarket, I carefully checked the condition of the eggs, then went to the checkout, where the cashier gave me a look similar to the one she'd given Mrs. Möller that morning. Remember: You again? I shrugged and grabbed two surprise eggs for Tim and me from the candy display. After all, Mom had sent me out to buy eggs; how was I supposed to know exactly what kind she meant? This time, however, I refrained from performing the "hold-to-ear-and-shake" test that I sometimes performed to give the (completely false) impression that I knew what I was doing. Shortly after, I was on my way home, paying particular attention to any icy patches; after all, I wanted to get the fragile cargo safely back to the kitchen at home. I wouldn't want to be sent out a third time.
Despite the slippery conditions, everything went smoothly, and this time my mother couldn't think of any reason to send me out again. After stripping off my jacket, scarf, hat, gloves, shoes, etc., I went to collect the Kinder Surprise eggs I'd fought for, to a mild smile from my mother.
"So there are still small children in the house."
"I was supposed to buy eggs, so I did."
"All right. You deserve them, too. I hope one of them is for Tim?"
"Indeed. By the way, where is Reinhardt? Don't tell me you left him somewhere, too."
"I'm not that forgetful, really! He's at a friend's house and is getting the backup data from his computer."
True, he had hinted at something like that once. Fortunately, Reinhardt had been smart enough not to entrust the results of his work solely to his home hard drive, which had been well-dampened by the fire, and had safely stored a second data set. The loss of the computer was bearable; with the data, it would have been a whole different story.
"He should be here soon."
"Tell me, why didn't you call him and ask him to do the shopping on his way home? After all, he has a cell phone!"
"Don't be like that, Reinhardt has enough on his plate. Besides, you wouldn't have those two chocolate eggs."
"True. Reinhardt would have brought Tim and me much more."
"That's enough, Danny. Get out of here before I assign you to kitchen duty."
That was certainly an argument. I'd never fled the kitchen and run up the stairs so quickly. I ripped open the bedroom door, startling Tim, who was busy at his computer.
"What's wrong with you? You look like the devil himself is after you!"
My little brother wasn't that far off the mark.
"Here, I brought you something."
I pressed the Kinder Surprise Egg into Tim's hand, and somehow my mother seemed to be right: he was actually as happy as a little child. If it was that easy to make him happy, he could happily have it every day.
I, too, prepared to be surprised, and soon we were busy assembling the cheapest toys. The rest of the day passed very quietly. Reinhardt soon appeared, we had dinner, I treated myself to a long, hot bath after the day's cold burdens, and shortly after ten, Tim and I were in bed. The following day promised to be interesting again, and I was somewhat pleased that Tim, too, would now have to visit the hallowed halls of my school. Surprisingly, despite the events of the day, I was able to fall asleep quickly, beaten only by Tim, who seemed capable of simply lying down and falling sound asleep the next moment. At least when his mind wasn't burdened by some catastrophic event.

---

New day – new luck. Wednesday. That meant a busy afternoon, because this weekday was primarily dominated by my weekly karate training. Which unfortunately coincided with Tim's swimming practice. Why so unfortunately? Quite simply: no opportunity for big brother to pick up little brother from training and take this opportunity to cast greedy glances at scantily clad, breathtaking water rats. My martial arts colleagues were… well, since I don't want to offend anyone, I'll refrain from describing it in more detail. Perhaps I should advertise it among the local beauties. Perhaps Philipp was interested… Keep dreaming, Danny. Or rather: wake up, Danny!
This time, unlike the previous days, the alarm and my usual morning routine were followed by the pleasant opportunity to get Tim out of bed. He responded to this with a definite grumble – which I, in turn, responded to with definite delight. Wait a minute, did I just say "delight"? My God, how gay! Whatever. A short time later, I was sitting at the breakfast table, and just as I was finishing up at least partially satisfying my energy needs, my little brother appeared in the kitchen – not much more cheerful than yours truly a quarter of an hour earlier.
"Danny, I hate you! How could you tear me out of the most beautiful dream!"
"May I pass on the compliment? Mom, I hate you! How could you tear me out of the most beautiful dream!"
"Help, does this have to happen! It was bad enough getting someone up and running early in the morning and on their way to school, Tim, not you too!"
"Exactly, Mom is right. I think you like school."
"Yes, but only when I get there. I don't like getting up at all."
"Then complain to the school administration and request a later start time. It's not my fault, and neither is your brother."
"All right, all right. I'll pull myself together in the future."
I gulped the last sip of tea down my esophagus, then looked at my mother, who, once again wide-eyed with shock, watched the amount of food Tim was shoveling onto his plate. It wasn't all that different from the amount I'd already consumed just minutes earlier.
"Mom, what time is your appointment with Mrs. Möller today?"
"Half past nine."
"Is Reinhardt coming too?"
"Yes, of course he also wants to see the hellhole his son is being sent to."
Oh, she was a quick learner! My dear mother was already using the terminology I'd introduced. Whether that would make Tim's first day in this very hellhole any easier, I doubted. A quick glance at the clock, however, showed me I didn't have time to delve further into the subject, so I got up and marched into the corridor, where I put on my winter clothes in the usual tedious procedure. Ready to go, I returned to the kitchen, tossed a "See you later," snatched a freshly buttered jam sandwich from Tim's plate, and left the kitchen and house amid loud protests from the person I'd stolen from and equally loud laughter from my mother.
On the way to school, memories of what had happened the day before flooded back to me, and naturally, my pessimistic subconscious decided to imagine all the possible and impossible unpleasant situations that could possibly occur. Wonderful. Luckily, the walk to school wasn't too long, otherwise I would have arrived at the end of my trudge completely depressed. The schoolyard was empty, the large door was slightly open, so I escaped into the warm building as quickly as I could. The first lesson today was physics, which didn't exactly help my efforts to wake up. Arriving at the venue, I saw that several fellow prisoners were already there, and I greeted them. This was perfectly normal, no different from the time before the big Matthias explosion. I had barely taken my seat next to Thomas when Lisa rushed into the room and a moment later was standing in front of us.
"Hello folks."
She was practically panting. She hadn't been running, had she? In the school building! That was totally out of character for the otherwise well-behaved Lisa. Although I should really put "well-behaved Lisa" in quotation marks. Which is what happened here.
"Listen, stupid Matthias broke his collarbone yesterday!"
Well, hello there! The structure of our venerable school actually seemed to be in even better condition than the first glance suggested. But Lisa wasn't finished with her news yet.
"His parents made a huge fuss. First, they went to the Möllerin, but she told them what really happened and brushed them off. They didn't agree with that at all, so they went to the school board—only to get another brush-off."
Good old Lisa, as always, was a fountain of insider information about the school. None of us knew where she got these insights, but they were almost always spot on. There were no known family connections between Lisa and any school employee, so Lisa's knowledge was one of the great unsolved mysteries of our time.
"So, who are you going to now? The Minister of Culture?"
My heart leapt through my chest. The person asking the question was none other than Philipp.
"Better not give them any stupid ideas. Our dear Danny is probably nervous enough as it is."
"Me? Nervous? You should know me better than that, Thomas."
"Sorry, that's right. Of course you're not nervous, you're just completely hysterical with fear."
"Hysterical and scared. Unlike you, those words don't exist in my vocabulary at all. I may be scared shitless, but I'm neither hysterical nor scared."
"Now that you mention it, it really does smell a bit strange in here."
The cheering that followed was only interrupted by Mr. Tröger's entrance. He exuded his usual "vigor," this time accompanied by a bad mood.
"Sit down, but a little suddenly! As usual, Messrs. Kupfer and Thom. Daniel, didn't you cause enough damage yesterday? Couldn't you at least hold back a little now!"
What had old Tröger done today? He seemed to see my surprise.
"Because of you, my son's rugby team lost its best player!"
Tröger had a son? Didn't procreation require at least a modicum of energy? I wouldn't have thought that lazy old woman capable of that. Oh well, the boy was definitely adopted. But wait, what did he just say? I really couldn't let that go uncommented.
"It's not my fault if Matthias throws himself against the wall. He must have confused her with his girlfriend. Although, it occurs to me, he doesn't have a girlfriend. I wonder why that is."
"I... I... You know exactly what I mean! And now, stop it, get your books out, we can't afford to waste any more time."
I took advantage of the general rummaging through various bags I was carrying to quickly glance around – and saw grinning faces everywhere. Thomas gave me a thumbs-up – but much more interesting was the victory sign Flip gave me. Well, Tröger got zero, Danny got one.
The rest of the lesson passed, as usual, rather slowly, although the corners of the mouths turned up the whole time, which the teacher was anything but happy about. But the angrier he became, the more amused the audience became. In the end, it got to the point where every time he turned to the blackboard, quiet giggles could be heard. I have no idea how it would have continued; perhaps even Tröger's sleeping pill would have exploded at some point, but before that could happen, we were all rescued by the recess bell. Normally, in situations like this, the students were the ones who fled the room in a hurry – but this time it was the teacher who couldn't get out of our presence fast enough. With the result that the moment the door closed behind him, the quiet giggles turned into loud laughter. The next moment, I felt a violent blow to my back.
"Well done, Danny! A few more comments like that, and Tröger will be ready for the asylum."
Well, I really hadn't said anything that special. I couldn't really imagine that it would have had such a big impact on Tröger. Something else must have happened. I decided to hold back a little around him in the future – not out of pity for him, but out of pity for his potential fellow inmates ;-)
The school day continued as it had begun. All in all, my forced coming out didn't seem to have changed much for me, at least at first glance. Aside from the fact that I felt like everyone was staring at me, there was initially no reaction from the assembled student body. None of the teachers even brought up the "issue." I wasn't really sure what to make of it. Should I be happy about it? Or was it just a sign of temporary repression, was the big bang still to come?
But wait a minute, I was actually worrying way too much about the wrong things again. I should be thinking about how to "conquer" Philipp. Just kidding, unfortunately. I could be extremely pleased that he clearly accepted me as a friend. On the other hand... what if Thomas had been right? Unfortunately, my ability to read other people's minds always failed at the crucial moment.
During the break before English class, I looked out for my beloved family, and sure enough, I spotted Tim and our two elderly friends making their way to the office. Actually, I mostly spotted Reinhardt, towering over the students milling around us like a fire watchtower. I made my way over to them and welcomed my little brother to the school that would also be his destiny for the foreseeable future. And I couldn't help it; despite all his assurances to the contrary, he didn't seem particularly enthusiastic.
We chatted briefly, then my mother looked at her watch and urged us to leave.
"Tim, we have to go or we'll be late. Danny, you probably have to get to your next class, too."
And they were gone. I marched back toward my own class. That is, I wanted to march there, but I was stopped on the way by someone grabbing my shoulder from behind.
"Hey, Danny, do you know this guy?"
Well, that was interesting! Tim must have caused quite a stir with his first brief appearance. And it got even better: the girl who was so interested in my little brother was none other than the little sister of my great love! That opened up quite a few possibilities.
"Tim is my brother. Why?"
Now it became clear that I wasn't the only one who blushed. Dear Veronika seemed to be somewhat prone to it, too.
"Uh... nothing, it's okay."
I shrugged and wanted to continue on my way, but Flip's sister forced herself to show some curiosity.
"Wait a minute, Danny. Is your brother, uh... you said his name is Tim? Okay. I mean, is he... is he also... well, you know!"
Things were getting better and better. Almost as if on cue. Now the big question was whether I should set Tim up on his very first day here.
"Tim likes girls, if that's what you want to know. I can't tell you exactly what type he's into, though, so I can't tell you whether you'd have a chance with him."
"Nonsense! I... oh, leave me alone!"
That probably says it all. If she ended up with my brother—and I with her brother—then we'd be in for a really complicated family situation. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if there were sparks between Tim and Veronika; after all, neither of them was anything but ugly.
But now it was really about time for me to get back to everyday school life, so I gave Philipp's sister one last challenging grin, then headed off to English class.
The rest of the school day was uneventful, except for the fact that Flip was more or less constantly around Thomas and me. I couldn't seem to figure out the exact reason for this. Was he simply happy to have made some new friends, or did his interest actually go further than that? During lunch, we all sat together at our regular table again, except for Veronika, who had joined her own classmates. This gave me a welcome opportunity to inform her brother that she'd shown quite a bit of interest in Tim.
"Hey, Flip, is Veronika really after the boys?"
"No why?"
"Well, let's just say your little sister showed quite a bit of interest in my little brother today."
"What? I think your brother is just being registered here today?"
"Exactly, and that's when he ran into your sister. And when she found out I knew him, she immediately took me aside and tried to question me about him. She was a bit shocked, though, when she heard that Tim was my brother."
"That's interesting. To answer your question: she's usually quite reserved. She was scammed badly once, and since then she's been extra cautious. Your brother must have made a pretty good first impression on her."
"I can understand that, he did the same to me."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's just say I had my hopes up for him for a while."
"On your own brother?"
Oops, that's right, we haven't gotten that far into my family history yet. I'd better get to that soon, before good old Philipp thinks I'm an incestuous pervert.
"Tim is technically just my stepbrother, although I'd ask you to forget that as soon as possible. He's my brother, period. But I only met him a few weeks ago, and my initial reaction to him was pretty similar to your sister's."
"Oh, all right. But he's straight, right?"
"Yep, hopelessly the right way round. Well, depending on your point of view. For me, unfortunately, it's the wrong way round."
"Alone?"
"He's available at the moment, yes. Why, do you want to set them up?"
"Well, if the two of them like each other, that wouldn't be a bad thing. Veronika could really use a friend; after the fiasco with Frank, she's become quite withdrawn in that regard."
Hmm, I could really use a friend too. But there was still a question to be resolved regarding our younger siblings.
"Tell me, you seem pretty convinced that she's not in danger of such a fiasco with Tim, and you don't even know him."
"Hmm, I just assumed the older brother was the younger one."
Well, hello! Was I reading too much into this, or was Flip trying to flirt with me?
"However, I didn't take into account that you didn't grow up together and are therefore difficult to compare."
"True. But I can assure you that Tim poses no risk to Veronika. He's quite shy and insecure himself, and I think the worst thing he can imagine is hurting someone else."
"Good to know. And what about his big brother in that regard?"
I looked at my counterpart intently, but still couldn't figure out exactly what he was getting at. Okay, maybe it was actually time to reveal a little more.
"His big brother isn't quite as shy, not quite as insecure, and if necessary, he'll hurt someone else. But there's one thing about big brother that feels exactly the same way as little brother."
»And what would that be?«
"The big brother is still available."
That brought a smile to Philipp's face, and who knows what else would have happened if... yes, if it hadn't unfortunately been time to leave for the next lesson, which Katja loudly announced at that moment. So we had no choice but to interrupt the conversation, which was so promising, and surrender ourselves once again to the drudgery of everyday school life. And we didn't get a chance to continue this conversation either; the breaks were too short and too hectic, and after school I had to run to get home on time and then to training. Apart from a quick goodbye in front of many classmates, there was no other opportunity to speak to Philipp. Life could be cruel... But at least it seemed as if I was on the right track... Wait a minute, I'm not turning into an optimist here, am I?
Anyway. I rushed home, then jumped on my bike and rode to training—yes, Danny on a bike in the winter. Just thinking about it made me shiver. But it was the only way to get to the dojo on time. The training itself was exhausting and, this time, quite painful. Somehow, my mind wasn't quite on the task at hand, and this took its toll on me several times with my opponents' actions—which left me with a lot of surprised faces. Neither my "opponents" nor the teacher were used to such "lapses" from me, and I was on the verge of being kicked out of the session. I pulled myself together just in time, although I still wasn't able to reach my normal level. In the end, I was glad when the training was over—and that really rarely happened to me.
And as the saying goes, "He who is at fault doesn't have to worry about the ridicule." The teasing began in the showers.
"Hey, Danny, what was wrong with you today? Did you suddenly forget everything?"
"Nonsense, he was just thinking about something else. What's the little girl's name?"
I was excited and tried to finish as quickly as possible—unfortunately, not quickly enough to avoid the further comments. Not that they were meant to be malicious; we all got along quite well—though not so well that I told my colleagues I was into guys. Who knows how things would have gone in the shower. The fact that none of them fit my ideal type of guy was very helpful in this regard; thankfully, there had never been any awkward situations in a group of naked people.
"Niklas, I think you're right. Our karate master is in love!"
"Exactly. In other words, is she blonde, brunette, tall, short, older, or younger?"
I groaned. They probably wouldn't rest until their curiosity was satisfied.
"Light blonde, blue eyes, about my height, my age—and probably completely unaware that I'm interested."
"Oh, is our Danny shy?"
"Get to work, Danny!"
Luckily, I finally made it, and I left the shower area at high speed, got dressed, and started to leave the dojo - and was promptly stopped by our boss.
"Danny, please come into the office!"
I did as I was told, entered, and... found myself face to face with a familiar face! Before I could say anything else, the trainer continued.
"This is Danny Thom, one of our best students. Two-time city youth champion and third at the recent state championships."
Well, with my performance today I definitely wouldn't have been able to do that.
"Although, given the way he stumbled around today, that's hard to believe."
Ah yes. Well, I certainly deserved that and the piercing, uncomprehending stare that came with it.
"Danny, this is Mrs. Stein. She just moved here and will soon be taking over training for our children's group."
I had to swallow hard and was on the verge of fainting. The mother of the flame of my heart was a karate instructor, and in my club no less! I would probably have to be even more careful around Flip than I ever imagined.
"We already know each other. Hi Danny, nice to see you again so soon."
As the saying goes, the unexpected often happens.
"Good day, Ms. Stein."
"You already know Danny?"
"Yes, my son and he are in the same class, and I met him after school yesterday."
"Well, that's perfect! Danny, do you have a little time to show Mrs. Stein around? I have to leave for half an hour."
What was the biggest dilemma of teenage life? Quite simply: that you couldn't turn down an adult's request without immediately being seen as rude. Others might not have minded, but I was probably too well-mannered to risk it so easily.
"Oh, but I really don't want to intrude! Danny, if you don't have time, I can come back later."
Okay, that was it. I was hooked, no chance of getting out of it. And especially not with this adult, whom I absolutely couldn't upset. I had no idea what she knew about me and what she thought of me, but it was definitely better to satisfy her in every way. Okay, not in every way *g*.
"No problem, I have time."
"Thank you, Danny. Okay, Ms. Stein, I'll leave you in his care for the time being. We'll see each other again later. Danny will show you my office, where you can wait for me. I'll be back in 45 minutes at the latest. Bye!"
That said, I left Philipp's mother alone. A not-so-comfortable silence spread, and before it could get out of hand, I decided to start the tour. I showed her the details of the complex, which included a fitness area in addition to the karate department. While I was doing this, I tried to tease out some information from the woman I had been entrusted with through skillful conversation.
"Will Philipp train here too?"
"Flip? No, definitely not. He knows the basics of karate, but he has no interest in any serious training."
What a bummer. What kind of mother was that? A coach herself, and she couldn't even get her own son excited about her sport!
"Veronika, however, is fully committed to the project, and Kevy also wants to start as early as possible."
Oh dear! Veronika was training karate? Could I expose Tim to such danger, or should I try to keep her away from him?
After about twenty minutes, Mrs. Stein had seen everything and I took her to the boss's office.
"Well, that's it. Do you have any more questions, Ms. Stein?"
"No, thank you, you're a very good tour guide."
"Nice to meet you, thanks."
"Ah, tell me... does the coffee machine outside the door work?"
"Yes. Should I get you a cup?"
"That would be very nice. And bring one for yourself too. Here's some money."
I took the coins and walked to the vending machine, where I dispensed a cup of coffee for Flip's mother and a cup of lemon tea for myself. Back at the office, I placed the coffee on the table in front of the future trainer.
"Thank you, Danny. Do you have a moment? Yes? Very well, please take a seat."
I had a pretty strange feeling about this, but what else could I do but comply with her request.
Mrs. Stein looked at me with an inscrutable gaze, took a sip from her coffee cup, sighed softly, and then began to speak.
"Danny, seeing you here earlier was a bit of a shock for me."
What should I say then?
"To be honest, I don't really know what to think of you. Ever since I picked up Philipp and his sister from school yesterday, the boy has been talking almost exclusively about you."
By now, she had my full attention. At least she wasn't beating around the bush.
"Danny this, Danny that – that's how it went the whole time."
I was speechless. I really hadn't expected that. And what was Ms. Stein's purpose in this conversation?
"Then, in a quiet moment, I asked Veronika what was going on with you, and she told a pretty interesting story about a fight in the dining room."
Now I had to intervene and set the record straight.
"Mrs. Stein, there was never a fight. Someone wanted to fight me, but it never happened. And I never touched him once."
"Okay, the fight was probably a bit of an exaggeration, I get that too. Still, I'm pretty confused, especially because there's another issue at play."
I had a vague idea of what was coming next.
"Is it true, Danny, are you gay?"
What should I answer now? That it was none of her business? It wouldn't have been a problem if... yes, if it hadn't been the mother of the boy I'd had my eye on. Denying it would have been just as stupid, after all, there had been plenty of witnesses, including her own children. So, I guess the only thing left for me to do was tell the truth.
»Yes.«
»Gut.«
Huh? Did she just say "good"? How was I supposed to understand that? Well, somehow this conversation was extremely confusing.
"I do not quite understand…"
"I believe you, I don't really understand it myself. Danny, my husband, and I are worried about Philipp."
Come on, let's get on with it. What worries? Were they afraid I might seduce their dear little son? Lure him away to the other side? Come on, don't let me fidget with my fears.
"Flip has changed in the last few years, and we don't know how to approach him anymore. Oh yes, on the outside he is cheerful, approachable and
nice – but at a certain point it's time to quit, he shuts himself off."
I couldn't quite imagine it, but if his own mother said it, it must be true. The only question that remained was why she told it, especially to me.
"Do you have any idea how happy I was yesterday when I saw that Philipp had made friends at his new school on his very first day? In Munich, he had fewer and fewer friends every year; even the ones he used to hang out with almost 24 hours a day were appearing less and less frequently. And when you asked them why, they said it wasn't their fault, but Flip's."
That was all very interesting, but I think it would be good if she would finally get to the heart of the matter.
"When my husband and I heard more about you at home, especially about you, it was kind of an eye-opener. I mean, somehow everything suddenly fits together. The isolation, the stubbornness when we ask him what's going on. His sister has had a few steady boyfriends—I think you understand what I mean—but Philipp has never introduced us to a girlfriend, nor has he ever talked about having one."
Things were slowly becoming clearer in my mind's eye. If what I expected happened now, then one of my hopes would be fulfilled.
"And suddenly yesterday, the boy was a different man! No more fake smile, no, a real one! And one he couldn't shake for the rest of the day. He was actually looking forward to the next day of school! And all he talks about is his new friends. No, wrong, about one of his new friends. And this particular friend just happens to be gay and open about it. My husband and I talked half the night and are now pretty sure that Philipp is gay."
Thank you, dear God, thank you! It actually sounded like Mrs. Stein was right.
"What do you think, Danny, is it him?"
What had I ever done wrong to be constantly bombarded with such serious questions? How should I answer? 'Yes, Mrs. Stein, I certainly hope so'? Should I tell her that I had the impression her son was flirting with me? Or should I tell her what Thomas thought of him? What did she expect from me now? What exactly did she want to hear? A confirmation, or perhaps a resounding no?
"Uh, Ms. Stein, that's hard to say. I mean, there are many possible explanations for everything you've told me, and only one of them would be that he's gay."
"But Danny, it's you!"
"True, but that doesn't mean I can tell everyone is gay. If that were the case, my God, I'd probably be in a relationship by now! I have no idea if there really is such a thing as 'gaydar,' but if there is, it certainly doesn't work for me."
Flip's mother seemed pretty desperate, but what could I have done differently? After all, I wasn't a trained psycho-plumber.
"Maybe you're right, Danny, it's just... I was hoping you might be able to help us, shed some light on this..."
"Mrs. Stein, I can only tell you that I also went through similar phases while slowly discovering that I was different. It took me quite a while before I was ready to confide in anyone—and at the same time, I felt terrible about hiding it from the people closest to me."
"So what should we do now? Talk to him about it?"
"No, that probably wouldn't be such a good idea. At least not the direct method."
"What do you mean by direct method?"
"Mrs. Stein, what's your relationship with Philipp like in general? I mean, are there a lot of secrets and so on?"
"No, not really. At least we used to tell each other everything. Today, though..."
"Then I'd say something's bothering him so much that he's not ready to tell them yet. It could be that he's gay. Simply confronting him and asking him straight out whether he is could do more harm than good."
"Sure, but what should we do?"
"I hope I'm not being too nosy, but..."
"Go ahead, I'll tell you if you get too curious."
"Well, what does your family, what do you and your husband actually think about homosexuality?"
"Hmm, to be honest, we've never really thought about it."
"I mean different things. How do you react when gay people appear on television? What do you say when gay topics appear in the newspaper? All that sort of thing. Do you rant about it, show no interest, or loudly curse the 'fucking homosexuals'?"
"Danny, you have to believe me, no one here has ever said anything like that, and certainly never thought it. I certainly haven't!"
»Okay.«
"Well, I can't actually remember us ever having any discussions on such occasions. It simply didn't concern us, and that was the end of the matter. What other people do with their lives, what they do in bed, has never interested us. Everyone should live their own life, as long as they don't harm anyone else in the process, we don't care how they live it."
That didn't sound so bad after all.
"Good. I think you should pay more attention to that in the future. A single careless remark can be damn painful for someone who feels targeted."
I had to find that out myself when my mother was in pre-
During my coming-out period, I regularly gossiped about Alfred Biolek and Hape Kerkeling. Not that I particularly admired these people, but I didn't particularly like the fact that my mother was making fun of them for being gay. Fortunately, this behavior towards her stopped immediately after I came out.
"And you really think we shouldn't ask him directly?"
"No, at least not yet. You said he was suddenly completely different yesterday, didn't you?"
"However, he was a different person. He laughed, joked with us, and talked to us more than he usually does in a whole week."
And constantly talking about me, I know. But why? There were several possible explanations for that, even if you assumed that Philipp was actually gay. Of course, he could have fallen in love with me right away. (Hey, one can still dream!) Or maybe he was just happy to see that he wasn't alone in being gay; that, too, could lift a huge weight off one's shoulders, something I knew from my own experience. But wait, his mother was waiting for me to say something again.
"So a change for the better? Very good. Then I'd say give him a little more time. If we assume Flip is gay, then what happened at your house yesterday could almost be considered a kind of mini-coming out, right? Maybe he was just testing how you'd react to him finding a gay friend. How did you react, if I don't mind asking?"
"I think it was completely normal, I mean, the way we would have reacted to any other boyfriend. We were just happy for him that he had found someone he'd like to have as a boyfriend. The fact that this someone—please excuse the stupid wording—that you were gay was not discussed at all. We simply accepted it. Was that wrong?"
"Probably not wrong. Well, maybe you could have used the opportunity to say something general about the topic. Like, you don't have any problems with 'people like us' or something. But if it only dawned on you later that your own son might be in the same situation as me, then you had no reason to think about it at the time."
"Hmm, I see this whole thing is even more complicated than I thought. Anyway, Danny, thank you very much. You've really helped me, or rather us, a lot."
"I'm glad. But there's one more question I'd like to ask you. You don't have to answer it right away, but you should definitely think about it carefully. Together with your husband."
"Shoot, nothing can shake me anymore."
"Okay. What if Philipp is actually gay? How do you feel about that? How would you react if he came to you tonight and 'confessed' it? Would anything change in your feelings toward him? Can you live with a gay son?"
"Hey, didn't you say something about a question?"
"Sorry, I hope I didn't go too far."
"No, no, that's not what I meant. You're absolutely right. We've been puzzling over whether he's gay, could be gay, or not, but we haven't thought about what it would mean for all of us if he really was."
"Believe me, it's not that simple. I mean, parents worry so much about their children's futures, and a coming out like this throws a lot of things into disarray. My mother also found it difficult to accept that she wouldn't have any grandchildren from me, at least not biological ones."
"God, the things that come with it! Tell me, do you think your mother might be willing to talk to my husband and me about this? If it really becomes an issue for us, I mean."
"Possibly. I can ask her."
"That would be very nice …"
Right in the middle of this sentence, our boss burst in, panting into the office we had occupied, completely out of breath.
"I must... phew! ... I must apologize, Ms. Stein, Danny. But these bank idiots have reinvented bureaucracy."
"No problem, Mr. Schroth. Danny was a very accommodating host, and we had a great time."
"Well, I'm relieved. Thank you, Danny, we don't want to keep you any longer."
I looked at my watch; in fact, almost a full hour had passed since the end of my own training session. I said goodbye to the two adults, an opportunity that Flip's mother used once again to thank me. I was about to thank her for the information I'd provided, but then it didn't seem like such a good idea. The good woman had enough to deal with with the possibility that her eldest son might be gay; I didn't need to arouse her (justified) suspicion that the very guy she'd asked for advice had a crush on that very son.
In any case, it had been a very eventful and informative afternoon, and despite my lapses during the training itself, I cycled home feeling extremely satisfied – and this time, I didn't even notice the cold! Well, that's what it's like when your heart is warm...
At home, I was already impatiently awaited; so far, I hadn't been able to stop my mother from always wanting to know where I was.
"There you are at last, Danny! Where have you been all this time? Your training is long over."
"Mr. Schroth asked me to show another new trainer around, and that took a while."
"Couldn't you have at least called? I was worried."
I felt like I was on German television. By popular demand, watch the repeat of the seventy-eighth episode of our popular series 'Mother is the Best.' Or 'The Same Procedure as Every Year, James.' I groaned inwardly.
"Mom, I'm seventeen, I'm practically close to retirement! How long am I supposed to hang on your apron strings?"
"Yes, yes, I know. But you're still my son, and I'm just worried."
"You're supposed to. But you know I can take care of myself, right?"
"All right, all right. I'll try to keep a little more to myself in the future."
Would she really be able to do it? I had my doubts. But wait, maybe there was still some use to be made of it?
"If you really want to always be able to reach me, then maybe you should give me a cell phone..."
"Ha, you never give up on this matter, do you?"
At least not until she let herself be persuaded.
"That's completely out of the question, young man. Why does a teenager actually need a cell phone, can you explain that to me? To call the people after school they spent hours in class with? That's all just a money-making scheme, conjured up by a few clever marketing strategists. But I'm not playing along. If you really need to call while you're on the go, you have your phone card; that should be enough. In any case, you won't get a cell phone from me. If you absolutely need one, then buy yourself one when you're eighteen. Or buy one now with a prepaid card, but don't complain about the cost later. In any case, you won't get a cent from me for this nonsense."
That was another conversation we had with some regularity. Well, it was worth the try. At least now she was distracted from my "inexcusable" lateness...
"Tell me, Mom, where are Tim and Reinhardt?"
"Reinhardt is picking up Tim from training; they should both be here soon."
I wonder if she'd ask them where they'd been for so long? Well, at least I could use the situation to bring up another topic.
"Mom, do you remember the time shortly after I told you I was gay?"
"How could I ever forget that? Probably the one place where I completely failed as a mother."
"Ah, come on, it wasn't quite that bad. After all, that was a pretty harsh remark I threw at you."
"Still, I should have handled it better. You needed me, and I rejected you."
"Yes, but you turned things around in time and everything turned out well."
"I know, but I still blame myself for it. But why are you bringing this up now, out of the blue? Did something happen? Don't tell me Tim's going to drop a similar bombshell anytime soon."
"Would that be so terrible? But I can reassure you, Tim likes girls."
Which, of course, could easily have led to a bombshell exploding. Girls, as we all know, have a habit of getting pregnant. But well, my little brother really wasn't that far along yet. At least, I hoped so. I really couldn't imagine having to play uncle to a screaming little brat anytime soon. Nothing against children, but couldn't they at least be born as ten-year-olds? From around that age, you could at least do something with them. And don't get any silly ideas about what I might mean by "do something"! I'm gay, but not perverted – even if certain sects, large and small, disagree.
"I didn't mean it that way, Danny. Of course, that wouldn't be terrible. But I'm just surprised that you're so unexpectedly digging into family history."
"Tell me, would it have helped you back then if you had been able to talk to another mother who had already gone through the whole coming out process with her son?"
"I think so. Actually, I did that too, though not in person, but rather by reading books and online. Much later, I found out that there was a kind of support group for parents of gay children in our area, but I didn't need it anymore. And I don't know if I would have been able to bring myself to go to one of their meetings back then. Maybe for a private conversation, yes, I think that would have been the best solution. But why do you ask?"
"I know a woman who thinks her son is gay. She's pretty confused and doesn't know how to deal with it, and her husband seems to be feeling the same way. Could you possibly bring yourself to talk to them both?"
"Danny, Danny, that's a pretty big request, isn't it? Is it someone I know?"
"No. These people just moved here. The one who is in my class, and the mother is the new coach I told you about earlier."
"And you talked to her about her son, about how he's probably gay?"
"I didn't talk to her about it, she talked to me about it. She was pretty surprised to see me at training, well, and then one thing led to another, and she more or less poured her heart out to me. I guess I was able to help her a little, but it would probably be better if she could talk to you too. Mother to mother, that is."
"Well, okay, I actually have something to make up for from back then. But tell me, if they're so new to the area, why did she already know you? And how did she know you were gay?"
"Mom, I just told you that her son is in my class. It's only logical that he would have told everyone at home about the famous Matthias incident. And she already knew me because we met yesterday after school when she picked up her son and his sister."
"And now she wants to talk to me. I'm certainly not the best role model, but at least she can learn from me what mistakes she shouldn't make."
"Come on, stop berating yourself for old stories. I don't do it either. I never have, actually. Who knows how I would have reacted if I were you."
"All right, all right. And how can I contact the woman? Do you have a phone number for me?"
"M...orrible cheese! I must have forgotten something. But I'll take care of it."
"A memory like a sieve. It seems to me you're getting old, my son."
"Does this mean I can drive your car in the future? Am I finally old enough now?"
"The law disagrees. And even if you're old enough in a few months, the car still won't be old enough. But don't worry, as soon as you get your driver's license, we'll find you a nice, cheap, antique Golf. One where one more dent won't even be noticeable."
"It's nice to finally know what I'm worth to you. Can I at least count on the heating working?"
"I'm sure we can arrange that."
"How generous."
"I think so too."
Before I could continue with the banter, I heard the front door being unlocked, and shortly afterwards my little brother and his father appeared in the kitchen, where the entire incident I have just described had taken place.
"Hello you two, we're back."
As if anyone could miss Reinhardt.
"Well, Tim, are you feeling dry behind the ears again?"
"Of course. By the way, I brought you something."
Oh, wonderful, I love little souvenirs.
"Come on, tell me! What is it?"
"A bucket of water."
Help! The little boy was becoming more self-confident day by day, which was, on the one hand, an extremely positive development, but on the other hand: did I really have to be the victim?
"I actually thought you knew me better by now. A bucket of coal would have been more appropriate."
"Sorry, but I really can't help you with that."
During this teasing, I greeted Reinhardt, then retreated with Tim upstairs to our room. This ingenious move created space in the kitchen—and there was every hope that my mother would take this as a hint about the dinner I was eagerly awaiting. And I was pretty sure my brother was hungry too after his surely strenuous workout.
The rest of the day unfolded like so many school weekday evenings before. I "amused" myself with the fortunately manageable schoolwork, eventually we actually had dinner, and Tim and I were in bed relatively early. We couldn't fall asleep right away, though, so I used the time to inform the unsuspecting heartthrob that, without even knowing it, he had already turned a woman's head at his first appearance at his new school. Tim reacted to these revelations with considerable disbelief.
"Tell me, is everything you're telling me true?"
"Indeed. By the way, that's the very new student I told you about on Monday. She immediately picked you out of the crowd. Not that I blame her..."
"Thank you, thank you. I always like to hear compliments."
And now he even believed you. What a change from the completely withdrawn guy of a few weeks ago.
"So? Now you've seen her with your own eyes. What does she look like?"
I grinned at Tim in the light of the bedside lamp. He blushed briefly and then grinned back.
"Sorry, I guess I asked you a pretty stupid question."
"Not really, bro. I'm gay. Not blind."
"Come on then, don't keep me in suspense."
"Hmm, how best to say this? Ah yes, I know: Veronika is to Philipp what you are to me."
"His little brother? Sorry, but as you know, I like girls."
"Idiot! You know exactly what I mean! She's his little sister. And besides, good looks seem to run in their family."
"That doesn't sound so bad. But to be honest, I have no idea if I want to start anything with anyone so soon."
"I'll leave that entirely up to you. I just wanted to give you a little warning, who knows, you might be completely surprised tomorrow. Maybe she'll pounce on you with a wild war cry."
"Well, hopefully not! If she goes at it like that, she's screwed up with me right away. Sorry, but I'm not into these kinds of assaults."
"Well, then we both have to hope that dear Vroni will exercise a little restraint."
"It's clear that I have to hope so, but why should you?"
"Quite simply, if my brother and Philipp's sister fall out, that wouldn't be good for my prospects with Flip."
"Well, thank you very much for burdening me with such responsibility! Now I'll have to put on a brave face for your sake, if necessary..."
Fortunately, a quick glance around the room showed me that Tim was grinning to himself and clearly hadn't meant that remark seriously. Still, I had to clarify.
"Tim, I only ask one thing of you: do what you want, what you want for yourself. Please don't do something you don't really want to do just because you think it would be better for me. Think about yourself for a change, okay?"
"If you say so. Should I at least try to find out if poor old Flip is even open to boys?"
"Don't worry about it, this thing is already in the works."
"Oh yeah? What are the chances?"
"Definitely better than you, kid. In terms of receptivity to boys, I mean."
"Well then, good luck. I really wish it for you."
"Me too. Okay, but I think we should try to get some sleep now. The alarm clock is going off earlier than we'd like."
"Okay. Well then, good night."
"Same to you."
It didn't take long before I fell asleep, this time probably even before Tim. And even though we're supposed to forget the content of our dreams, I'm still pretty sure what, or rather who, I dreamed about. I don't think I need to say anything more, do you?

---

And yet another night that was far too short, a morning that was far too early, a walk to school that was far too cold, and a school that was far too boring. (Just to cut a long story short, it would be foolish to describe it all again every day, wouldn't it?) The only point in which the whole process differed from the already sufficiently discussed previous days was that on this memorable Thursday, Tim and I set off for school to sit through regular lessons for the first time. And if anyone thinks I felt sorry for him—I'm not! Brotherly love didn't go that far!
The school building was once again notable for being still locked when we arrived. Great. Well, at least I now had the chance to show off my little brother to my friends. Many already knew him from Katja's party, but there were also a few who were seeing him for the first time. For example, Philipp, who looked Tim up and down a little suspiciously. A protective instinct toward his little sister? That raised the question, though, of who needed to be protected from whom. Something about karate.
Nicole, who had only known my little brother from the secretly taken photo that Thomas had meanly distributed, grinned cheekily at me and whispered something into my half-frozen ear.
"Danny, now I understand why you cuddled up to him so much in bed."
I could literally feel the blood rushing to my head again, and a quick glance at Tim showed me that Nicole's whisper hadn't been as quiet as she had probably intended, because Tim was also busy blushing profusely.
I gathered all my kindness and smiled at our little wannabe punk.
"Envious?"
Nicole ran both hands through her brightly colored hair and looked suggestively in the direction of my brother.
"Of course. With the right hairstyle and decent clothes, the little one could be a star."
"Don't let your Rocky hear that, or he'll rip your nose ring out while you're fully conscious."
"Ouch! You're right, I should probably hold back a bit."
Both Nicole and her boyfriend Rocky (who actually went by the name "Rudolf," which was obviously far too stuffy for his image) were probably the two most striking students at our venerable school. It started with the fact that they could drive any metal detector at the airport to distraction. Pendants, rings, piercings—metal everywhere. I'd rather not even know where it was. Okay, I had really and seriously considered earrings before, and I actually quite liked the idea. What I didn't like was the idea of someone having to pierce my delicate skin to get them. But Nicole and Rocky? Ears, nose, eyebrows, tongue—Rocky even gave himself nipple piercings for Christmas! And there were actually still people who said gays were perverts... When this strange couple wandered through the school corridors, you could easily feel like you were in a haunted castle—what with the rattling chains.
Added to this was the hairstyle, already briefly mentioned. Not only did the two look as if their heads had fallen into a painter's palette—no, Rocky also had the habit of wearing a very pronounced part. Meaning: one side of his head was clean-shaven, while on the other, his hair grew so long that you could assume they hadn't seen scissors in years.
The crowning glory of Nicole and Rocky's "total works of art" were their clothes, which mostly looked like they'd been "borrowed" from a used clothing collection. Please don't get me wrong, the two always walked around very cleanly, but the combination of their garments was a rather serious insult to any aesthetically inclined eye. To top it all off, Nicole showed considerably more bare skin than a gay teenager could care for. I mean, sure, a straight guy might like it when half a naked girl's butt popped out of her ripped jeans—but how about a little consideration for me? The only thing that moved me about this picture was the question of how poor Nicole managed to keep it up in the cold...
To bring things full circle: I could well imagine that the idea of this girl making a move on him sent shivers down Tim's spine. It should be said, however, that our two "colorful dogs" were actually completely harmless and very reliable friends—even though they fit the image of the type parents always warn their children about. I've seen many a retired couple cross the street as a precaution when they spot Nicole and Rocky on their walk from a distance.
Meanwhile, the usual morning exchange of ideas was underway, everyone chattering away as if this were the last time they would be together. I took advantage of the opportunity and pushed my way over to Flip.
"Good morning."
"Same to you."
"Tell me, did your sister say anything about my brother yesterday?"
"I couldn't say, but she was walking around with a rather dreamy look on her face."
That, in turn, could very well be a description of me. So dreamy that I let people beat me up during training who normally wouldn't have been able to stand upright for ten seconds against me.
"What do you think, should we try to bring the two together?"
"And how?"
"This is Tim's first day here and he doesn't know his way around. We could leave him in your sister's care."
Philipp grinned at me.
"Old matchmaker. But I like the idea. Tim seems okay, and Veronika could use a little boost in her love life. But is your brother even interested?"
"That'll probably become clear pretty quickly, but I wouldn't worry too much about it. Your sister looks good, and my brother is just a hormone-driven teenager."
"Okay, let's try it. How do we do it?"
"I'll grab Tim, and then the three of us will go to your sister's together."
"Agreed. But we should hurry, they'll probably unlock the school door soon."
"Let's go then."
No sooner said than done. I grabbed Tim, who was in the middle of talking to Thomas, by the left arm and pulled him along with me.
"Hey, what's going on?"
"Just come with me, I want to introduce you to someone."
With Tim in tow, I headed towards Philipp's sister's morning class meeting, which of course my brother noticed after a few steps.
"Where do you want to go with me?"
"Just trust me. Not that I wanted to get rid of you, but I think you should let your future classmates see you. The girl in the red anorak is Veronika, by the way. As far as I know, she's really eager to meet you..."
Well, I said something! Tim immediately began to increase his resistance and hissed at me.
"Are you spinning?"
The old adult saying came to mind, "Even if you don't understand it today, one day you'll be grateful to me," but I barely managed to refrain from saying it out loud. Tim's efforts to break away from me were quickly doomed, however, because a grinning Philipp grabbed my brother's other arm, and together we pushed and pulled the still-struggling champion swimmer to our destination. There, my co-conspirator took over.
"Hello everyone. This is Tim, Danny's brother. He's in your class starting today. Veronika, maybe you could look after him a little."
What did I read from his sister's lips? "I hate you?" Really, these young people! Did everyone really have to be forced to be happy these days?
Now it was time for a tactical retreat. Flip and I let Tim off the hook and turned to leave. It was about time to enter the school anyway. As we walked away, we heard the assembled crew greeting Tim, and when I discreetly looked around, I could see the two newly matched friends alternately looking at their feet and each other's faces. I poked my companion in the side.
"Turn around carefully. It looks pretty promising, doesn't it?"
Philipp followed my gaze and his face broke into a smile.
"Well, I'm curious to see if this will work. They certainly make a pretty couple."
I could only agree with him. What I didn't know was that my best friend was thinking exactly the same thing about Philipp and me at that very moment...
The first few lessons left me no time to dwell on any potential pairings, regardless of their composition. Somehow, all the teachers had suddenly decided that it was time to finally start some real work in the new year. Homework was assigned, tests threatened, bitter comments about a lack of enthusiasm for learning were made – my God, what had gotten into them? Was a major inspection by the Minister of Education himself imminent? In any case, after a few hours, everyone's heads were spinning. Wait, wrong. Of course, not everyone involved. Just those on the wrong side of the teacher's table. Which, in a school, applies to the vast majority of those present. They, in turn, were not asked what their opinion was. Strange, actually; I always thought we lived in a democracy. I must have misunderstood something...
During the breaks we rushed from room to room, almost the only topic of conversation was the activism that had broken out among the teaching staff, I just had time to waste a few thoughts on Philipp (stupid choice of words, of course no thought was wasted on this dream guy) - I had long since forgotten about our little matchmaking session from early in the morning.
All this continued into our lunch break, where our morning "deeds" came back to haunt me. I had just started tucking into a bratwurst and mashed potatoes when I felt an elbow in my ribs. Okay, I was eager to be touched by Flip, but it could have been a little more gentle!
"Ow! What's going on?"
"Look two tables away."
I did as I was told, and there were our two younger siblings sitting peacefully opposite each other. That alone wouldn't have been anything special; after all, I hadn't been worried that they'd jump at each other's throats. But what I saw went a bit further than mere mutual tolerance. The two of them were staring only at each other, seemingly oblivious to the world around them.
Meanwhile, Thomas had also noticed our glances and was also looking at Tim and Veronika with his mouth open.
"I can't believe it! I thought you were just making fun of them!"
"That's more or less what I thought, too. But if it works this well, I certainly won't complain. I'd definitely be happy for Tim."
"I have to get to the bottom of this right away. Excuse me, okay?"
I really couldn't allow that to happen. Thomas would surely come between them in his inimitable way, and who knows if the tender bud of affection between Tim and Veronika would survive.
"You stay here and leave them alone! They definitely don't need you right now."
"Spoilsport. Well, then I'll just have to take care of your love life."
"Don't you dare."
"Oh, and what do you want to do about it?"
"For example, I could submit a written complaint to your Christine. What will she say about her lover plotting with his best friend?"
"You'd really rat me out to her?"
"In war and in love, all is permitted."
"Okay, okay, you've convinced me. I just can't get caught."
"Uh, this might surprise you, but you're not exactly a master of inconspicuousness. So don't get any stupid ideas, I'll figure it out anyway."
With that, the topic of love and acts of love was closed for now, and we turned our attention to other things. Shortly thereafter, we unfortunately had to devote ourselves once again to such trivial matters as lessons, and about 48 hours later, the school day was finally over, and I left the school building with Thomas, Flip, and a few others. My little brother was nowhere to be seen, and the same was true of Philipp's sister.
"So, what do we do with the rest of the day?"
"I don't know what you're doing, Thomas, but I'm going to have fun with my homework. With a little luck, I'll be finished sometime next week."
"True, the teachers really seem to have gone crazy. But today I'm only doing what we need for tomorrow; the rest will stay for the weekend."
"You just hope that by then others will be finished with the stuff and let you copy it."
"Shhh! You have to tell everyone! Now I probably don't have a chance with our new guy either."
"You never would have had a chance with me anyway, so don't blame Danny."
How wonderfully ambiguous and misleading Flip expressed himself. How could I understand that? Did I possibly have a chance with him? Any further thoughts on this topic were immediately dispelled, however, because a loud female voice suddenly drowned out all the conversations around us.
"Hey! Danny! Daniel Thom! I'm here! Hey!"
To quote one of my favorite classic crime series (hint: Higgins, Magnum):
Oh my God!!!
Without having to look around for the source of the voice, I knew immediately who was calling for me. My father's sister. Aunt Helga. A very fitting name, by the way. Anyone who knows the "Hägar the Horrible" comics will also know this Hägar's wife. Helga, too – for whom the title "the Horrible" suited better than for her husband. Tall, strong, loud – a walking terror on two legs. But, as my father always remarked, a wonderful person. I could never complain about her either; she always brought some kind of present and had great stories to tell from her rather exciting life. What always put me off about her was what I considered to be a rather chummy, tomboyish demeanor – something I, of all people, often had to "suffer" from.
It had been almost two years since I'd last seen her. Neither my mother nor I knew where she'd been during that time. Aunt Helga had married well and gotten an even better divorce. Okay, the guy had been a creep, but she'd also mercilessly ripped him off in the divorce. Well, at least there had been no children to suffer from. And no sooner had she divorced rich than fortune proved she was blind in both eyes and handed her a massive lottery win—she was one of the first to win big after the jackpot system was introduced. As a result, she had a lot of money and even more free time, and she made the most of both. Sometimes she spent a whole year on a sheep farm in New Zealand, then again she traveled through India for months to find herself. Poor Indians. Between these adventures, she would grace us with unannounced, short, but passionate visits. Please don't get me wrong, I honestly liked Aunt Helga, but I knew exactly what to expect. I quietly turned to Thomas.
"Be careful, if she breaks my ribs this time, please call an ambulance."
"I promise. My condolences."
It was time to put on my biggest smile and face my fate, so I turned to Auntie and slowly walked towards her.
"Danny, there you are! Come here, my boy! God, you've grown!"
With these almost ritualistic words, she hugged me and held me close. Now I was even glad that she had shown up in winter and not summer; at least the thick clothes protected me somewhat from her grip. But only somewhat, and soon I had to gently but firmly wriggle out of her arms, otherwise I would have suffocated on the spot.
"Aunt Helga, please stop, you're suffocating me!"
"Oh come on, a real boy, oh, what am I saying: a real young man like you will surely endure the embrace of his old aunt!"
After all, she was an old aunt I trusted could put a fighting bull on the boards with her bare hands. Fortunately, she finally seemed to hear my pleas and released me, at least partially, from her grasp, holding me with outstretched arms and subjecting me to a thorough inspection from head to toe.
"Oh yes, you've really grown a lot. When I look at you, you take after your father. My brother would be so proud of you!"
"Thank you, Aunt Helga. But tell me, where did you come from so suddenly?"
"From your mother, why?"
"That's not what I mean! Where have you been for the last two years?"
"Oh, I was in Brazil, believe it or not!"
Why shouldn't I believe her? With Aunt Helga, anything was possible.
"So, where is this new nephew of mine?"
Ah yes, so she was already familiar with the new family situation. But how did she feel about the fact that her deceased brother had, in a sense, been "replaced"? I looked closely into her eyes, but could detect nothing except barely concealed curiosity.
"He should be here soon."
"Well, hopefully, I can't wait to meet him."
That sounded very encouraging, though I had been a little worried for a while. Thomas and Philipp took advantage of this moment, when I was finally standing completely free again next to "terrible Helga," to say goodbye to me, and shortly afterward, I was alone with my aunt. But before I could quiz her any further about her Brazil story, I saw Tim coming out of school—along with Veronika. That actually started to look pretty serious.
"Here comes Tim."
"Where? The boy with the black cap?"
"That's exactly it."
In the meantime, the two had closed the distance to our location, and before I could have warned Tim in any way, he was given the same boisterous greeting I had received just minutes before. Unlike me, however, the poor fellow had no idea what was happening: suddenly, an enormous woman, towering over him by a good head, lunged at him and seemed about to crush him. He gave me a look that was half-frightened, half-questioning, which I could only respond to with a helpless shrug. An "Aunt Helga greeting" was comparable to natural phenomena like earthquakes and volcanic eruptions—just as powerful, and just as unstoppable. All one could do was wait until it ended of its own accord—luckily for Tim, it didn't take quite as long as it did for me. Aunt Helga's curiosity was probably to blame, because now she subjected Tim to an even more stringent scrutiny than she had me before.
"So, you're Tim. Let me take a look at you. Hmm, not bad, not bad at all. Do you do any sports?"
Still in shock, Tim answered the question mechanically.
"I swim."
"I almost thought so. And this, is this your girlfriend?"
Now my brother smiled at Veronika – and she smiled back.
"Ah yes, I see, you don't need to answer! Congratulations, you have good taste."
Aunt Helga's attention was now completely focused on Veronika. Tim used this time to whisper to me about this "crazy woman."
"Danny, who the hell is that?!"
"This is our dear Aunt Helga, my father's sister."
"Is she always like this?"
"One way or worse. You have to get used to it; you can't change anything about her."
Meanwhile, Philipp's sister's examination was also completed, obviously to our aunt's complete satisfaction.
"So, I hate to break up this young couple, but guys, we're supposed to pick up your mom and then meet Reinhardt at the café. So, Tim, say goodbye to your girl, and then get in the car with both of you!"
We resigned ourselves to our fate, said a mildly apologetic goodbye to Veronika, and followed Aunt Helga to her car—a blue Range Rover. This car suited her perfectly.
On the drive home, Aunt Helga chatted about her return trip to Germany—she hadn't flown, but had been a passenger on a cargo ship! Time passed quickly, we invited Mom over, and off we went to meet Reinhardt—the first meeting between him and his new sister-in-law. I was almost a little surprised at how relaxed she was about it. But perhaps she'd been thinking for a while that my mother wouldn't be alone forever.
We ended up in a small café and found a table. Reinhardt wasn't there yet—a client meeting seemed to be holding him up. In retrospect, that was probably for the best. Aunt Helga's mouth was—as so often—unstoppable.
"Imagine, Maria, I had to snatch your Tim from his girlfriend's arms! A pretty girl, by the way."
Mom raised her eyebrows questioningly and smiled. I felt really sorry for poor Tim; his love life was moving at an extremely overwhelming pace at the moment.
"Yes, yes, he's a real little Casanova. I'm sorry you had to let her go for today because of me."
"It's not so bad. Danny had to let his Philipp go, too."
A splutter, then a deathly silence. The splutter came from the leather-bound menu that Aunt Helga had dropped at Tim's words.
"What are you saying?"
This should make it clear that Aunt Helga wasn't among those who were already privy to my homosexuality. Tim seemed to realize the same thing at that moment.
"Shit."
"Maria, are you saying your son is a faggot?"
My mother looked at me, pained, and I could see a questioning expression in her eyes. What was she supposed to say? There was nothing left to hide anyway, so I gave her a slight nod – with a very uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.
"No, Helga, that means Danny is gay."
"And you say that so easily? You know about it and you're sitting here so calmly at the table with him?"
"Yes and?"
Aunt Helga jumped up from the table, her face bright red, practically foaming at the mouth. What a transformation in such a short time! I had never seen her like this before—and if someone had told me beforehand, I certainly wouldn't have believed it. It was so unlike the Aunt Helga I knew.
"It's a good thing my poor brother doesn't have to experience this! His son's a cocksucker! I would never have thought that of him—and I would have expected you, Maria, to take action against it! If my brother knew, he'd turn in his grave!"
But she had picked the wrong person with my mother.
"He certainly would, Helga! He'd be spinning! Not because of Danny, but because of your appearance here! How could you insult your own nephew like that!"
"Ha! This nephew himself is an insult, an insult to our good name! And you... you stand there like it's no big deal!"
"It isn't. Not at all. It's just you trying to make a big deal out of it."
"Well, wonderful, now it's my fault that there are already perverts in my own family! But just so you know: you're dead to me. All of you. I actually wanted to tell you during my visit that I named Da... that I named that sissy as my sole heir, but of course that's no longer an option! Tomorrow I'm going to the notary public and revoke the will. I'd rather donate everything to the animal welfare organization."
"That, Helga, is your decision. My decision is to tell you that you are no longer welcome in our house. Just tell me where we should send your luggage, and we'll never have to see each other again."
"You can throw that stuff away. I don't want anything to do with things that were once in your... your gay brothel!"
Then she turned to Tim.
"Boy, I feel sorry for you. I just hope that perverted piece of trash doesn't infect you! Good luck, and goodbye!"
With these words, she stormed out of the café, almost running over Reinhardt as he came towards her.

---

The three of us at the table were stunned for a moment; no one moved, no one uttered a word. The next moment, Reinhardt arrived at our silent circle, completely perplexed and in the dark about what had just happened.
"Hello you three. Did I just miss something important?"
Reinhardt's words broke our stupor, and the next moment it was his son who jumped up without a word, knocking over his chair and rushing toward the exit. This, of course, confused Reinhardt even more, and he wanted to run after Tim. However, I had a pretty good idea why he had run away, and I thought it would be better if I followed him.
"Let Mom tell you everything. I'll take care of Tim. We'll meet at home; it might take a while. Bye."
I stood up, grabbed my jacket from the coat rack, along with Tim's, which he had completely forgotten, and ran after my brother (putting on my jacket as I did so). At the same time, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that what was happening at our table had attracted quite a bit of attention; everyone's eyes were fixed on my rushing figure.
Once I reached the street, I quickly glanced in all directions. I hoped the little boy hadn't run off, oblivious to everything around him! But to my great relief, I saw him leaning against his father's car 50 meters away, his head bowed to the road, like a miserable little heap. I ran to him as fast as my feet could carry me.
»He, Tim, alles okay?«
He raised his head and looked at me with tear-stained eyes.
"Just leave me alone! I don't know how you put up with me anyway. I ruin everything!"
Hmm, I called that a setback. Or rather, a relapse into the behavior I remembered from him when we first met weeks ago. Now there was no sign of the self-confidence he'd gained in the meantime. Damn it, Aunt Helga, you have no idea what you've done!
I had a lot of work ahead of me to get Tim back on his feet. Sigh. Where should I start? But wait, first things first.
"Here, little one, put on your jacket first, or you'll die here."
"Maybe it would be better that way. A good bout of pneumonia, and no one would have to worry about my stupidity anymore."
Okay, gentle words probably wouldn't achieve much here. First, I had to pull Tim out of his self-flagellation. I resorted to the sternest tone I could muster—something I really didn't enjoy, but as the North Sea Indians so aptly say: What must be done, must be done.
"Put on your jacket! And then come with me."
Tim was probably just as surprised as I was to hear me say that, but that was a good thing. In any case, he put on his jacket as if in a trance, and thus at least his physical health was no longer so endangered. His mental health remained to be seen. When I saw that he was fully dressed, I set off through the snow that had now begun to fall. At first I thought Tim would stop, but after a few steps he caught up with me and was walking silently beside me. After we had crossed two streets, he asked a question.
"Where are we going?"
If only I knew. As much as I enjoyed taking care of Tim, I also needed to take care of myself. Of course, I had to help him cope with what had happened, but first I had to get my own thoughts in order. That meeting with Aunt Helga hadn't gone at all the way I'd hoped!
"I don't know. I need to think about it a bit."
"Okay, I'll shut up."
Hmm, I may have sounded more dismissive than I intended. But I wasn't in the mood to rectify that right away.
So we wandered through the city for a quarter of an hour without exchanging another word, and while I tried to get my head in order, we slowly but surely miraculously found ourselves at the main station. Well, what you call a main station. Since a major renovation some time ago, Leipzig's example wasn't really a station anymore, but – despite the many tracks – just a huge shopping center with a siding. Certainly not what I imagined a station to be. In any case, there were some sources of food there, and that was just what I needed, given my onset of hunger. I took Tim to a bakery with an attached café.
"Pick something to eat and drink."
"No, thanks, I'm not in the mood right now."
"Come on, if I take something by myself and you just watch, I'll feel stupid."
Five minutes later, we were sitting in the far corner of the café with huge mugs of hot chocolate and various slices of cake. I wolfed down my cake and took a long sip from my cup. Then I leaned back and watched Tim listlessly pick at his cake. That was the perfect time for another deep sigh. Well, there was no point in waiting any longer.
"Tim, why did you just run away?"
Without looking at me, his gaze fixed on the plate in front of him, Tim uttered his answer in a dejected tone.
"Because I know you hate me now. You just have to hate me! Because I don't know when to keep my mouth shut, I outed you to your aunt. And now she wants nothing to do with you anymore; she's even disinherited you! Damn, I hate myself..."
"You shouldn't hate yourself. I don't either. Okay, I was annoyed with you. I mean, you know what just happened at school; you know this is a topic where you should be a little more careful with your words, especially with people you don't know and have no idea if they're already in on it. But..."
My counterpart didn't let me finish.
"See, you said it yourself, I'm to blame for the whole disaster!"
"No, I'm not saying that, Tim. You triggered it, but it's not your fault. At least not solely yours."
"I don't get it."
Oh, how should I best explain this to him?
"It's my fault for not telling Aunt Helga sooner. It's her fault for reacting completely irrationally. It's the intolerance that's still widespread. And there must be something else in Aunt Helga's past; this reaction doesn't suit her at all. Tim, the big blowup would have happened sooner or later anyway—more likely sooner, because I think I would have told her in the next few days anyway. I would have much preferred it to have happened on my terms and not in the middle of a café in front of complete strangers, but that can't be changed. Your thoughtless remark was just the last straw. I really don't hate you for it. Especially because I know it just slipped out; I'm pretty sure you wouldn't intentionally do anything to hurt me."
"I really couldn't do that, never, you have to believe me!"
With an expression on his face that was roughly equal parts hope and fear, my little brother looked at me across the table.
"I know, I believe you, Timmy."
Before I could even look, he jumped up, moved to the chair next to me and threw his arms around my neck.
"Thank you, Danny, thank you! I was so afraid you really wouldn't want to know anything about me anymore."
"Don't worry, you'd have to do completely different things for that."
I ruffled Tim's hair as best I could and held him tightly against me until he freed himself from my grasp - probably due to lack of breath.
"Are you still mad at me, Danny?"
I looked at his face, which, except for the traces of tears, looked almost as handsome as ever.
"Well. A tiny bit more, maybe. Now go to the bathroom and wash your face."
Tim smiled again! Thank God…
"You should come along."
"Why, don't you dare go alone?"
"Just come with me, I'll show you what I mean."
So we marched together to the designated location, and there I realized why I should accompany Tim. His face wasn't the only one showing the aftereffects of crying; mine, too, had traces of tears. Not quite as fresh as Tim's, though; that must have happened completely subconsciously at some point along the way. We freshened up a bit, then returned to our table, where Tim was now tackling his cake with a completely different attitude!
"One more thing, Tim. Remember this once and for all. I could never hate you. Period. If I hate anyone here, it's my ex-aunt Helga."
"Can I hate her too?"
"Whatever you like."
"Okay. Then I hate her too. Man, I was scared when she exploded! I was just starting to like her..."
"I actually always thought she was great, but that came to a rather sudden end."
A few minutes later, our plates and cups were empty, and we leaned back, somewhat satisfied.
"Danny, what do we do now? Do we go home?"
Interesting question. Actually, I wasn't really in the mood for that. The next inevitable conversation on the topic would be waiting for us there anyway.
"No. I'm going to show you an original Danny nerve-calming strategy."
»And what would that be?«
»Frustration shopping.«
»Frustration shopping?«
"Exactly. When I want to build myself up again, it helps me immensely to buy a few things I've been denying myself for a long time. I create a little inner sense of achievement, so to speak."
"Sounds good. And what were you thinking?"
"I don't know, but we have a huge selection of shops here. I'm sure I'll come across something. A few CDs, books, or whatever. Agreed?"
"Sure! Come on, let's go!"
And so we spent the next hour exploring all sorts of shops, and slowly my shopping bag filled up as my wallet emptied. Two CDs, a DVD, and two books. I'd probably have to ask for a raise, or at least an advance...
Tim couldn't resist the CD rack either, and slowly our mood improved a bit. Then it was time to head home. We had just found the right way to the tram stop when my little brother stopped me.
"Danny, wait a minute, look, a new store has opened here!"
Sure enough, in one corner of the promenade, two shop windows were decorated with huge signs announcing the new opening and offering special offers. But was this the right time of year to open a new T-shirt shop? I didn't have time to think about it any longer, because Tim pulled me into the store with all his might.
The selection was gigantic. In addition to the vast number of ready-made T-shirts, you could also choose your own creations from catalogs and order them directly on
Have T-shirts printed. Tim browsed a rack full of dog motifs, and I also plunged into the cotton paradise. Half an hour later, I had picked out a few things: one T-shirt showed a giant wolf's head with its jaws open, another featured some Native American tribal symbols, and the third was intended for teachers, for example, who always thought dear Danny would be there to help them at any time. This T-shirt featured two crossed M16 assault rifles and the slogan "No more Mr. Nice Guy" in large letters. Would this message get across?
Tim was also carrying several hangers of T-shirts, including one with a large dog's head and one with the words "Shit happens" on it – I'd rather not describe the accompanying picture in this round… I actually wanted to go to the checkout, but Tim pulled me over to one of the tables with the catalogs on display.
"Look, wouldn't this be something for you?"
He turned a page and tapped on an image. It showed a rainbow flag with the text "Thank God nobody knows I'm gay!"
"Or would you rather have this?"
I had to grin. It said, "I'm not gay, but my boyfriend is."
"Tim, the problem is that I don't have a boyfriend. Not yet. Unfortunately."
"Okay, then you get the other one."
"Well, why?"
"As a small way of making amends. And don't tell me I don't have to make amends. I may not have to, but I want to, okay?"
Someone seemed very determined. Well, I wasn't going to spoil his fun.
"Okay. Thanks."
Tim first grabbed a matching white T-shirt and then a saleswoman.
"Could you please print the number 398 here?"
"No problem!"
For the next few minutes, we watched the salesperson select the right motif foil, prepare the T-shirt, and then print it. When it was finished, she showed it to us for inspection.
"Agreed?"
We said yes and marched to the checkout with our purchases, placed everything on the counter, and waited to be cashed in. At that moment, we heard someone talking quite loudly behind us.
"All that's missing is for these faggots to make out in public!"
As if struck by a shock, we turned in the direction from which the words had come. A man around forty, short, with thick glasses, extremely thinning hair, and the very prototype of a civil servant, armchair fart, looked at us in disgust, one arm hooked on a woman who looked like a wallflower. Naturally, the remark had also caught the attention of everyone around us—why did it have to happen today of all days!? I'd just gotten myself somewhat back on track after the Aunt Helga affair, and now this.
I could have used Thomas right now; he always had a lighthearted joke ready in such tense situations. But Tim was a good substitute. He smiled cheerfully at the civil servant.
»Thank you for the good suggestion!«
The next moment, Tim turned to me, hugged me, whispered, "Just play along!" in my ear, and then pressed his lips to mine! So, I didn't have to put on a show! I leaned into him and decided to enjoy this experience to the fullest. Tim wasn't particularly reserved; his lips immediately opened and his tongue demanded entry into my mouth. This was beyond my rational comprehension; I never would have thought I'd share my first French kiss with my avowedly heterosexual brother! But I certainly wasn't complaining either ;-)
The whole "process" lasted maybe a minute (maybe only ten seconds, or even ten minutes; I lost all sense of time), and it was over far too quickly for my liking. I saw stars, angels, and who knows what else. Were those wedding bells ringing in the distance? When Tim broke off the kiss and then the hug, I had tremendous difficulty coming down from cloud nine—but the ambient noise helped me reorient myself to reality. First, there was the person who initiated the whole thing, stammering away with a bright red face.
"That... that's... what do you say to that! That's impossible! No morals anymore... today's youth... perverse..."
And so it probably would have continued, if it hadn't been drowned out by something else. The applause of the other bystanders, interspersed with a few obviously appreciative whistles! Tim grinned cheerfully at everyone and bowed (honestly, it was hard to figure out what he was doing, his moods were constantly changing!). I myself might have presented a somewhat different picture. Most of my blood had pooled in my head at that moment – the rest, because of the kiss and the tight hug, in another part of my body...
The situation was resolved by the cashier, who told us the price of our purchases. We paid, then left the store, which I'm sure will remain in my memory forever. We were barely outside when Tim started laughing out loud.
"Haha, did you see that guy's face? He was so shocked, I thought he was going to drop dead!"
"Uh, honestly, I was just as shocked."
Tim immediately became serious.
"I hope what I did wasn't wrong again. I somehow felt that was the right answer."
"It was! But believe me, I would never have dared to do that on my own. You always surprise me."
"Surprises make life interesting."
He could say that out loud. We walked briskly to the tram stop and were lucky enough to catch just the right line without having to wait. There were even two free seats next to each other! We had to hold our purchases on our laps, though, but at least they were safe from unauthorized, greedy hands.
"You, Danny."
»Yes.«
"I just wanted to say... well... I still like girls. That kiss was great, but I hope I didn't give you false hope again."
Ah yes. With that, my little brother had anticipated the question that was burning on my mind. Well, I would have been very surprised, too – although it would have been nice if it had been an expression of his changed mind. Too good to be true. I took the opportunity to admit to myself that I wasn't quite over Tim as a potential "boyfriend."
"It's okay. I'll take what I can get."
I grinned at him, and Tim responded with a look of well-acted indignation.
"Besides, I consider it practice for the real Mr. Right. Whoever that may be."
I had pretty concrete ideas and hopes, but since I wanted to avoid a disappointment like Tim's, I decided not to get too caught up in the idea of the name Philipp...
By the time we arrived at our front door, almost three hours had passed since the incident at the café – and I had a certain sense of what was to come. I had barely put the key in the front door lock when it was flung open and my mother stood in the doorway.
"Daniel, there you are at last! Did you find Tim?"
I stepped aside a little so she could see my little brother.
"Thank God, we were so worried! Come on, come in! Where have you been all this time? What have you been doing?"
A few hundred years ago, my mother could have accepted a job offer from the Spanish Inquisition at any moment. We crowded into the house, and Tim waved his shopping bags in front of the curious mother personality.
"We were frustration shopping!"
"Oh dear, that's going to be expensive!"
With these words, Reinhardt also entered the stage.
"Come on, Maria, let them both go into the house in peace for now. You can always quiz them later."
The woman looked at him briefly, then nodded and disappeared toward the living room. Reinhardt made a move to follow her, but turned back to us briefly.
"Boys, take off your warm clothes and come into the living room. And bring your groceries. We want to know what you've been doing to combat your frustration and what it's going to cost us."
Hmm, that went better than I expected. Having a cool-headed man in the house did have its advantages. Especially when he took the wind out of an overly anxious mother's sails. Tim and I leisurely climbed the stairs to our room. Once at the top, we took off our thick winter clothes, freshened up briefly in the bathroom, and also took care of a few other things that had been too expensive for us to do at the main station at just one euro. Then we went back downstairs. Our elderly parents were sitting in the living room, waiting—some more than others—for our arrival. One of them, of course, barely gave us time to settle down comfortably on the couch.
"Daniel, Tim, are you okay? My God, where have you been all this time? Why haven't you called?"
"Mom, I told you I'd take care of Tim. And I also told you it might take a while. We're fine, nothing's happened, we've talked a lot, and we've sorted out everything that needed to be resolved. Right, Tim?"
"Exactly. Nothing to worry about. I'm sorry I stormed off earlier, but I wasn't quite there. Maria, I'm sorry you got into an argument with your sister-in-law over me. Do you think this will work itself out?"
"I have no idea. Given Helga's behavior, though, I highly doubt it. I have no idea what got into her! But Tim, I don't blame you for this, and I hope my son doesn't either."
I shook my head in denial.
"Good. Anyway, I'm very glad you're finally here and doing well. But couldn't you have at least called while you were on the road? And Daniel, don't give me that cell phone thing again!"
"Sorry, we were thinking about something else. It shouldn't happen again."
My mother sighed quietly but obviously with relief, and now Reinhardt, who had so far only attended the extremely embarrassing interrogation as a spectator, joined in the conversation.
"So, tell us what you've been up to all this time."
Taking turns and complementing each other, we recounted the story of the afternoon. When she learned that I had voluntarily trudged through the cold for twenty minutes, my mother frowned meaningfully. Both her face and Reinhardt's showed clear tension, which, however, largely dissipated when I told her about the reconciliation between Tim and me. When we got to the topic of "frustration shopping," it was Reinhardt again who interrupted the flow of conversation.
"Come on, guys, show us what you cheered yourselves up with."
We gradually spread out our purchases on the coffee table, saving the T-shirts for last, of course. Especially that one T-shirt… I noticed that Tim didn't mention the main event of the late afternoon in his story, so I refrained from commenting on it. As much as I was internally craving to show off my very first French kiss ;-) When I finally pulled out the last T-shirt, everyone was amazed, then laughed.
"Say, Danny, do you really want to wear that?"
Thank God! I was Danny again for my mother! The critical situation was finally over.
"Sure. Anywhere. Right at school tomorrow."
All three others looked at me with wide eyes.
"Under the sweater."
Understanding and even a little relief spread. Then Reinhardt turned to his future wife.
"What do you think, Maria? The T-shirts are clothing, and so they're part of the things we normally pay the boys for. Should we give them their money back?"
The person I spoke to seemed to be in a generous mood, perhaps because she had gotten Tim and me back safely.
"Okay. What did you pay?"
We told her what each of us had spent, and I noticed that Tim didn't mention the atonement T-shirt.
"Good. Reinhardt, will you handle the financial side?"
That's exactly what he did, and both Tim and I were given an additional tenner in a moment unnoticed by my mother. With this ceremonial act, the meeting ended; we packed up our things and were about to leave. However, when I was halfway out of the living room, my mother stopped me.
"Danny, did you get that mother's phone number? The one with the possibly gay son?"
I knew I had forgotten something...
"Sorry, I didn't think of that at all."
"Luckily your head is firmly attached to your body, otherwise you'd forget it too!"
Yes, yes, just mock me. Quite unexpectedly, my little brother intervened.
"Maria, I have the phone number. Should I write it down for you?"
Mom was stunned. She just nodded, and only after Tim had already written down the entire number on a piece of paper did she regain her voice.
"Tell me, Tim, where did you get that number?"
He, however, refused to reveal this information and nimbly disappeared from the interrogator's reach. She, in turn, looked at me questioningly, but I just smiled back knowingly and followed my brother. I had a vague idea how he had gotten that phone number. Once upstairs, Tim threw himself onto his bed and let out a groan of obvious relief.
"Phew. I got it over with. I imagined it would be worse. With accusations and house arrest or something."
"Or with tickling punishment?"
»Or this…«
We both had to laugh.
"Seriously, Tim. The last time I was grounded was when I was thirteen."
"So, what were you doing there?"
"Okay, I'll tell you. Are you lying safe and sound? I don't want you to fall out of bed and break something. Good. My father was still alive back then. It was summer, and he had decided to finally teach me how to swim properly."
"Very good idea."
"Mom thought so too. I didn't. I begged and pleaded, but he had no pity on me. A few weeks later, we were going on vacation to the North Sea, and by then, I should be able to swim safely. My parents were afraid that something might happen to me—or that they wouldn't be able to let me out of their sight for a moment. As if I had gone near the water voluntarily!"
"I believe you. How did you survive that vacation?"
"It never happened. A week before our vacation started, my father's plane crashed."
"Sorry. I apologize, I didn't mean to reopen old wounds."
"Okay, I started it myself. So, where was I actually going with all this talking?"
"You wanted to tell us what you were grounded for."
"Right. So, I tried every way possible to get out of it, claiming I was sick, that I had important school work to do, etc., etc. Nothing helped. So, on the day things got serious, I packed everything I needed into my gym bag. Everything except my swim trunks. The plan was to tell my dad at the beach that I'd unfortunately forgotten them, thus forcing us to turn back."
"And your father saw through you. That's why you got grounded."
"Among other things."
"Among other things? Were there any other punishments?"
"Sure. The worst part was that the plan didn't work at all. He simply walked a little further along the lake, away from the official beach, and made me an offer. Either two nude swimming lessons at the wild nudist beach, plus a week of grounding for the 'forgotten' swimsuit stunt, or go home and be grounded until the summer holidays, plus another two weeks during the holidays. And of course, the next attempt at swimming lessons would be the next day, and he would make sure I had no excuse this time."
"What did you decide?"
"Guess what. That was a good three weeks before the holidays, and I would have had to go into the water the next day anyway."
"So you skipped the swim trunks."
"Yep. That corner of the lake was relatively empty, and I survived."
"And ever since then you've been a nudist fan."
"God forbid! Never again, I'm really not that keen on showing off."
Even in my beloved sauna, I was a big fan of the towel.
»We'll see...«
"Anyway. To change the subject: where did you suddenly conjure up the Steins' phone number?"
"Do I really have to answer that question?"
"So can I assume Flip and I's little plot worked this morning? Are you a couple now?"
"Well, I really wouldn't go that far. I think Veronika is nice, she's funny, intelligent, ..."
"… looks good…"
"Yes, that too, I admit it! But right now we're just friends. I like her, and I'd like to get to know her better. Whether and what will come of it, who knows."
"Oh, I'm not worried about that, what girl could resist my little brother!"
»And which gay boy...«
"Exactly! By the way, I think you should expect this topic to come up again today. After all, Mom found out about your latest special interest before the big bang in the café."
"I know, I was a little surprised that she didn't bring it up."
"Maybe she didn't want to spill the beans in front of Reinhardt."
"Do you think she hasn't told him yet?"
"I don't know. But don't worry, if she hasn't done it yet, I'll do it!"
"What? You want to betray me?"
"Well, revenge is blood sausage. And anyway, you have nothing to fear. Your father will probably be thrilled that you've fallen for a girl."
"Good, good. But let me tell you myself, okay? If Maria doesn't start on her own, I'll say something at dinner."
"Agreed. I don't want to be like that."
"Thanks."
We spent the next hour working on homework, although after everything I'd experienced that afternoon, I wasn't really focused on it. Well, if I got any bad grades, there was still a little time to fix them if necessary. At some point, Thomas called and wanted to know how the afternoon with my aunt had gone. I didn't feel the urge to go over everything again so quickly, though, so I just gave him a brief summary and promised to tell him the rest when I had the chance.
Then it was time for dinner, which was celebrated in the kitchen as usual. Mom reiterated that she was sorry for Aunt Helga's reaction, that she was fully behind me, and that said aunt was a stupid cow.
"And, Danny, most importantly, you just have to believe me: no matter what Helga says, your father would be proud of you if he could see you today! And so am I."
"Me too."
"Join me."
Okay, that's it, for the umpteenth time that day, a few tears were due.
"Thanks, guys."
Before things could slip too much into the direction of a soap opera, my mother changed the subject.
"Tell me, Tim, what did Helga mean about a girlfriend? This must be a completely new development, or are you just good at keeping it a secret?"
"I haven't had a chance to tell you that yet, because it's really new. I only met her—her name is Veronika, by the way—this morning at school. I like her, but is she my girlfriend yet? It's probably a little too early to say."
"Tell us, we want to know everything about her!"
And they always said women were curious! Reinhardt was hardly inferior to the fair sex in that regard. Well, he was probably somewhat happy and relieved that his beloved Tim wasn't the other way around.
"All right, all right, I'll tell you! So, she's blonde, has gorgeous blue eyes, is as tall as me, as old as me, has a great sense of humor, is athletic, and, by the way, is Philipp's little sister."
"Wait. Philipp. That's the name that started everything today, right? Danny, don't tell me you're in a relationship now, too?"
"That would be nice. Tim just wanted to make a little joke; he couldn't have known it would backfire. By the way, Philipp is the one whose mother would like to talk to you."
"Well, hey, and you say 'that would be nice'! If she's right in her assumption, then something could actually come of it! Or do you two just not like each other?"
"They like each other so much that they coldly set Veronika and me up together this morning."
"Little brother, you're not complaining, are you? I think you like Vroni?"
"I do too, but the situation was a little embarrassing."
By now my mother had added up everything she had heard.
"Ha, now I know why Tim had the phone number of Danny's new karate teacher! My God, these are political complications."
Things continued like this for a while; the mood was relaxed, and I was getting better and better at pushing the day's events into the background. After dinner, Tim and I went to our room, we spent a while on the computer, and we ended the day fairly early by showering (separately). Needless to say, I couldn't fall asleep for a long time afterward; I certainly didn't get more than four or five hours of sleep that night. Luckily, the weekend was just around the corner.

---

Finally, Friday. So, if a fairy godmother were to ever cross my path and grant me a few wishes, one of them would definitely be to reverse the poorly chosen ratio between weekdays and weekends. I mean, it would be much more pleasant the other way around, wouldn't it? With five days off, I'd definitely be willing to consider two school days.
It took Tim and me a relatively long time to get going after the restless night, but eventually we found ourselves back at the knowledge-instilling institute. There we went our separate ways, and whenever we ran into each other during breaks, I noticed that wherever Tim was, Veronika was there, too. And vice versa. What did Tim say? Just friends? Of course. And soon I'll start believing in Santa Claus again.
And me? Who was always around me? Philipp! However... not Philipp alone. Somehow, there was never an opportunity to separate him from the group and have him just for me—well, I was probably just too cowardly to create such an opportunity. In any case, there were always at least three of us, and our conversations revolved around the completely normal topics of a school day.
After school ended, we stopped briefly at the gate. Thomas looked at us.
"So, what are you planning to do today?"
"I'm going to the movies with Kevy later. I promised to watch the new Disney cartoon with him. Anyone want to come?"
I'd definitely like to do something with Flip, but the prospect of sitting in a movie theater with a bunch of small children was a bit daunting. Besides, I'd left some homework the day before that I wanted to get done before the weekend proper.
"Sorry, no time. Thomas?"
"I don't know yet, my youngest sister really wants to see the movie too. When do you want to go?"
"To the four o'clock show. I'll pick Kevy up directly from kindergarten and then walk him to the cinema from there."
"When do you have to leave home?"
"Just after three."
"Okay, give me your phone number. If I come with my sister, I'll call you in time, okay?"
"Agreed. I'd be happy if you came along, so I won't be alone with all the Minis."
Philipp gave Thomas a kind of business card with his phone number.
"Danny, would you like Philipp's phone number too?"
Someone was interfering in my relationship life again. Flip looked at me expectantly.
"Thanks, no need, I already have them."
"Where did it come from? I haven't given it to you yet?"
"Your sister gave it to my brother, and that's how I know it."
"It looks really serious between those two, doesn't it?"
Our younger siblings undeservedly had one lesson less than us and were therefore already at home.
"I think so, even though Tim said yesterday that they're just friends at the moment. For now."
We congratulated each other a bit on our apparently successful attempt at coupling, then Flip said goodbye and headed home. Thomas and I also headed toward home. After we'd covered a few meters, Thomas asked the question I'd been waiting for all day.
"So, now tell me what happened with your aunt yesterday. You were pretty secretive on the phone. Did anything bad happen?"
I sighed. Once again, the events I had so painstakingly pushed into the background were brought to the forefront. I spent the rest of the walk home telling Thomas everything in great detail—almost every detail. I kept quiet about the kiss between Tim and me from him, too. I have no idea why; we actually had no secrets from each other.
Thomas was very sympathetic, and also very surprised by the turn Aunt Helga had taken. He, too, had seen her in full, at that time still peaceful, action several times in recent years.
Then it was time to part ways. We agreed that I would call Thomas on Saturday, and then we went our separate ways.
When I got home, I just caught Tim on his way to meet his Vroni for ice skating.
"Dad knows. He left for a client a few minutes ago and won't be back until around six. And Maria called too; she's meeting with Vroni's mother. So, I'm off."
"Okay, go ahead, don't let your little girlfriend wait for you."
Tim gave me a grimly amused look, then left. I treated myself to a little refreshment, then caught up on a few emails, and when I couldn't put it off any longer, I "amused" myself with some chemistry homework. This activity was so "enthusiastic" that I almost lost track of time, and was only startled by the ringing of the doorbell. A quick glance at the clock: 4:45. I dashed down the stairs (heh, that could be a money courier after all! ;-) and flung open the front door. What I found there, however, was even more appealing to me than a money courier.
"Hi Flip! What are you doing here? Come in!"
Something didn't seem quite right. He was supposed to be sitting in the cinema with Kevy. But no, he pushed past me into the building.
"Kevin, come here already!"
Ah yes, that answered that question too. The aforementioned little rascal also sidled into the house. Since I had no idea what to do with this situation, I did what seemed wisest. I closed the front door, took my guests' coats, and led them into my room. There, Kevin immediately pounced on my computer, which I had thankfully temporarily cured of its treacherous screen saver.
"Great! Can I play?"
I looked at Philipp, who was looking back, and in his eyes I thought I saw both anger and despair. He still didn't say a single word—perhaps he didn't want to talk to his brother about what was bothering him so much. I shrugged and started a suitable game. At that point, something struck me.
"Tell me, Philipp, the pen is completely soaked! What has it done?"
"He was constantly romping around in the snow on the way here. Is it really that bad?"
"Indeed! And unfortunately, I can't provide dry clothes in his size."
"Shit. If Kevy catches a cold, I'll be in trouble. That was a stupid idea coming here. We'd better get back home."
"That would be a stupid idea, too. He can't go back out into the cold in his wet clothes."
"And what should I do now?"
Although Philipp was genuinely concerned about his little brother, there was an undertone in his voice, a nuance in his behavior that I didn't like at all. Something was very wrong here. But first things first.
"We'll put him in the bathtub, and in the meantime, we'll throw his clothes in the dryer."
"Okay. Thanks."
"No problem. Come on, I need you to help me in the bathroom."
Which, of course, wasn't true, but it would give us a chance to talk privately. I pushed Philipp into the bathroom, followed him, and closed the door behind us. Meanwhile, Kevin was so engrossed in the computer game that he didn't even notice the fuss being made over him. Next, I turned on the water in the tub, poured in some bubble bath, and then came the moment of truth.
"So, now tell me what's going on! Shouldn't you be at the movies?"
"As if you didn't know! You were totally speculating on that, and if the performance hadn't been canceled for technical reasons, I would never have figured it out!"
Did I even need to mention that I was completely confused? I had no idea what Flip was getting at.
"Damn it, don't speak in riddles! What do you mean?"
"Don't act like that. I'm just starting to come to terms with myself, which you've helped a lot, by the way, and then this! Did you have to send your mother ahead to grill my parents about me? I never would have expected that from you! I thought you were my friend, I wanted to talk to you soon anyway, I was about to confide in you everything. That I'm gay. That I like you. And now you've ruined everything! I hate you!"
Oh shit! Something must have gone completely wrong. That's what you get for wanting to help.
"Philipp, listen, there must be a huge misunderstanding. First of all, I didn't send my mother ahead, you have to believe me! But now it's your brother's turn, the tub's full. Will you get him?"
»Okay.«
He left me alone with my brooding, and I tried to organize my thoughts. I had to sort this all out somehow and get it back on track. This could have been the happiest moment of my life—I mean, my dream guy had just told me he liked me! That was exactly what I'd always hoped for. But all of that was now completely up in the air, and the next few minutes would determine a lot about my future.
The door opened and Philip carried in his brother, who was already in his prime.
"Well, Kevy, ready for your bath?"
»My name is Kevin!«
Oops, we've had this before, right?
"Okay, okay. Are you ready for your bath, Kevin?"
»Yes!«
"Well then, get in there!"
Flip carefully placed the cooled bundle of energy in the water, where a huge splashing began immediately.
"Philipp, can we leave him alone for a few minutes?"
"If you don't mind a flood in the bathroom..."
"It won't be that bad. Come with me. And Kevin?"
»And?«
"Have a little compassion, don't get too muddy, okay?"
»Okay!«
We left the bathroom, I grabbed Philipp's brother's soggy clothes, and with him in tow, I went to the master bathroom on the ground floor, where all the laundry equipment was located. The clothes went into the dryer, I turned it on, and then I turned back to Philipp.
"So, now tell me from your perspective what happened and what made you so angry with me."
"Well, you wouldn't have it any other way. I already told you that the movie was canceled. So we went home, and who do you think we found? A certain Mrs. Thom was sitting in my parents' living room. At least, that's what I gathered from what I overheard. And what were they talking about? About me. And what exactly? About the fact that I'm probably gay. Absolutely wonderful. How dare you send your mother to question my parents about me!"
"That's not why I sent her!"
"Not because of that! So you admit you sent them! For what reason then?"
"Okay, one at a time. You know I train karate?"
»Yes.«
"Good. Then imagine how surprised I was when I suddenly ran into your mother there. I was supposed to show her around, which I did, and then..."
"What then?"
"Then she approached me about you. You see, she approached me."
"Why?"
"She was worried about you, and so was your father, by the way. She said you'd changed a lot over time, and somehow she got the idea that you might be gay. Well, and through you she knew about me, so she probably thought I'd be the ideal source of information."
Flip probably had to digest that for a while. He stared at me, and you could practically see what was going on in his head.
"And how does your mother come into play?"
"Your mother asked me how my mother reacted to me being gay. I told her, and then she asked if I could possibly persuade her to talk to her and your father about the subject. Just in case her suspicions were actually true. I then suggested that, and that's exactly what I meant by sending her out!"
"Honestly? You didn't send her to get information about me?"
"Flip, what information? Your parents don't even know anything yet! They just wanted some tips on how to behave if you're gay and tell them someday. And if you want to know for sure: I told your mother that they should leave you alone in the relationship, that you'll come to them on your own when you're ready."
Poor Philipp. He'd put everything together so beautifully and precisely, and now he had to hear that he'd been completely wrong. While his face had been red with rage a few minutes ago, it was now as white as chalk. He must have had to process quite a lot at once. It took him several attempts to get his words out clearly again.
"I guess I've completely turned into a Robert now, haven't I?"
"Well, you just drew the wrong conclusions from the available data. But at least you gave me a chance to clear everything up. So, I think we should check out what your brother's doing in the bathroom."
"You're not mad at me?"
"I'm a little sad. That you really believed me capable of everything you made up."
"I'm sorry, really. Everything just fit together so well. Can you forgive me again?"
Funny, I've been hearing this question a lot lately.
"It depends."
"What?"
"Whether you really mean what you said at the beginning."
»Was?«
»That you like me...«
For a long moment, Philipp looked at me penetratingly.
"Danny, if I hadn't done that, I wouldn't have been so upset by this supposed breach of trust."
"Was that a 'yes'?"
"Idiot, of course!"
"I think that under this condition I can forgive you one last time."
We looked deep into each other's eyes, and then...
"My God, now kiss each other and make up! How long am I supposed to stand here waiting for you to finally get down to business?"
Flip and I literally jumped up and down, and any romance that might have been in the air vanished in an instant.
"Tim! What are you doing here? How long have you been eavesdropping on us?"
"Long enough to realize you two like each other. So please make something of it. And what am I doing here? How long should Vroni and I keep zipping across the ice? It's already half past five!"
He was right, time had passed quite quickly while all the complications were being clarified.
"By the way, Philipp, your sister is upstairs. How surprised do you think she was when we investigated the noises from the bathroom and found her little brother happily splashing around?"
"Damn, we completely forgot about that!"
"Well, he seemed to enjoy it. But I think you'll have to explain a lot to Vroni. And I also want to know exactly what happened here."
It was really time for us to head back upstairs. Kevin's clothes weren't completely dry yet, though, so we'd have to find another solution for him first.
"Let's go. Kevin's getting a bathrobe or something for now."
We set off, but on the way, something else occurred to me.
"Tell me, Philipp, does your sister know that you're gay?"
"Yes, she's the only one."
He chuckled quietly to himself.
"Well, not anymore. But Kevin, of course, has no idea."
"So no kissing in front of the little one, you two."
Ah yes. Now Tim was suddenly playing the big brother. But we couldn't discuss it any further, because at that moment we had reached our room. Once there, we saw Veronika coming out of the bathroom with Kevin, the boy wrapped in a large bath towel. Before we could say anything, she gave us a dressing down that we'll probably remember for a long time. Things like irresponsibility, etc., etc.
"Typical boys. You're chatting and completely forgetting that there's a little child sitting all alone in the tub. What could have happened!"
This continued for a while until Philipp finally took advantage of a short break in his sister's monologue to have his say.
"That's enough, Veronika. Okay, maybe we were gone a little too long, but Kevy bathes at home alone too!"
That took the wind out of her sails a little, but she didn't give up so easily.
"Yes, at home. But this is a completely strange house."
"It's okay, it's okay, it won't happen again. Nothing happened anyway."
"You guys really got lucky. So, what about Kevy's stuff?"
"They're not completely dry yet, it might take another twenty minutes."
"Why are his clothes wet? Never mind. Do you have anything for him to wear? Come on, get on with it."
Help, dictator alert! I glanced in the closet, but of course there was nothing there in that small size. Finally, I grabbed a warm sweatshirt and gave it to Veronika.
"Here, is that possible?"
She looked at the shirt briefly, nodded, and then pulled it over her little brother's head. Of course, it was more like a floor-length dress for him, but he was warm again for now. It would be enough for the few minutes until his own clothes were dry again. Veronika, however, didn't consider her performance over yet.
"Tell me, Philipp, what are you two doing here?"
"It's a long story, and it all started with the movie being canceled in theaters. I'll tell you the rest later, at my leisure, okay?"
She looked first at Flip, then at me, saw both of our slightly embarrassed grins, looked back at Flip, and finally the corners of her mouth twitched slightly upwards.
"Aha, I see. Okay. But rest assured, I'll grill you for all the details later!"
I could vividly imagine that. Was this predisposition to conduct interrogations actually rooted somewhere in the female genetic makeup? But now I also had a question for Philipp.
"Flip, how did you know where I live?"
Now he was clearly slightly amused.
"A certain Veronika asked me today where Bahrunstrasse was, and when I asked her why she wanted to know, she mumbled something about a Tim living there. Danny, do you know any Tim from Bahrunstrasse?"
Now the other two were allowed to stand around a bit awkwardly. What Philipp and I were spared, however, Veronika and Tim had to endure. Kevin, who had calmly endured everything up until then, now spoke up.
"Vroni loves Tim! Vroni loves Tim! Vroni loves..."
"Enough, Kevy!"
»Kevin!«
"Yes, yes, all right."
Someone had clearly hit the nail on the head. I briefly considered teasing them a bit more about it, but then decided that probably wouldn't be such a good idea. Conveniently, at that moment, we heard the front door unlock downstairs. Shortly afterward, my mother appeared in the room.
"Hey? What kind of gathering is this? Who are you all?"
"I'm Kevin!"
"Aha. And who is Kevin?"
"Mom, this is Veronika, Philipp, and her little brother Kevin."
"Aha, the famous Veronica."
"And the famous Philip."
After saying that, Flip looked down at the floor and shifted his feet. My mother looked at him, then at me. I nodded slightly, and she understood that something had happened.
"Tim, could you go downstairs to the living room with Veronika and Kevin?"
Tim shrugged, and Philipp's sister did the same, then they actually left the room, closing the door behind them. But first, I called after them.
"Tim, Kevin's clothes should be dry soon, go check."
Then they were gone, and Mom took over.
"So, you two. If I had expected anything—I certainly wouldn't have expected to find you, Philipp, here. Then tell me."
She sat down on one of the desk chairs, and Philipp and I took over my bed. We looked at each other, then he began to tell the story of the afternoon...
»Well, it started with the cinema trip with Kevy falling through...«
And so it went on. When he reached the point where he became an unwanted and involuntary witness to parental conversations, it was time for my mother to turn pale.
"I can't believe it. How much did you hear?"
"Enough. Or so I thought. Only after I'd put my foot in it with Danny, just about every possible faux pas, did it become clear that I simply hadn't listened enough."
"Ah yes. Now comes the explanation for why there's a Stein family reunion taking place here. Come on, on with the story."
So Philipp continued with his story. The next interruption came when he told me how he belittled me for my misdeeds. This time, however, Mom was less shocked than amused.
"Ha, and I suppose my poor son stood there like a wet poodle."
"Mom, that wasn't so funny! I was just thinking about the wonderful world of chemistry, and suddenly I found myself in the middle of such a drama."
Philipp jumped off the bed and knelt on the floor in front of me.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry – Danny, how many times do I have to apologize to you?"
"All right, all forgiven and pardoned. Rise up."
Shortly afterwards, Flip was sitting next to me on the bed again, and this time much closer than before. This, of course, didn't go unnoticed by my mother.
"Tell me... Why do I feel like there's some crucial point missing from the report? Could it be that you have something else to say to me?"
Could it be? Probably. So far, Philipp hadn't mentioned anything about the things that were most important to me. Like his being gay and the fact that he liked me. The question now was whether he was ready to come clean. I'd rather keep a low profile in the relationship for now. The faux pas Flip had made earlier were probably still around somewhere, waiting for a new victim.
"Uh... Mrs. Thom... I..."
"Stop! Philipp, the same applies to you as to Danny. You don't have to tell me anything. I'll just forget my curiosity and leave you alone."
Philipp stared thoughtfully ahead for a moment, then he seemed to have made a decision.
"So my parents think I'm gay?"
"Well, they certainly think it's a plausible explanation for your recent behavior."
Flip sighed quietly.
"It's true. I'm gay."
"Thank you, Philip."
"Huh? Thanks? For what?"
"For trusting me enough to tell me that."
"Well, I have a vague feeling there wasn't much left to reveal anyway, was there?"
"I think it still took a lot of courage for you."
"Yes. Uh, Mrs. Thom, since I heard very little of your conversation with my parents, what can I expect from there?"
"Oh, boy, I don't think you have anything to worry about at all! We sat and talked for quite a while. Your parents seem very nice, and they were genuinely interested in the things I had to tell them. If you tell them—and I assume you're asking me because you want to tell them—it will take them a while to get used to it, but they'll still love you just as much as they do."
"You think my parents will be able to handle this? Honestly?"
"Honestly. Otherwise, you wouldn't have even bothered to talk to Danny first and then to me."
An extremely relieved Philipp sank back into the duvet next to me. Well, I admittedly was relieved too. After all, this meant I could hope for a harmonious relationship with my potential in-laws—if Flip actually wanted to "go out" with me, as the saying goes.
"There... there's something else, Ms. Thom. Something I haven't told Danny yet."
But now I was curious.
"Danny, I told you I like you."
And?
"That doesn't quite capture the essence. I... I've... I've fallen in love with you! So, it's out!"
However. It was out. And even though that was exactly what I wanted to hear, even though I should now swear my own love to Flip, even though I should throw my arms around his neck – I did nothing. I wasn't capable of uttering a single word, let alone doing anything else. I just sat there stupidly, staring at Philipp with wide-open eyes...
I have no idea how long this lasted, but my mother finally pulled me out of my stupor.
"Danny. Danny! Daniel Thom! Wake up, now! I think Philipp would appreciate an answer!"
"Like... what... uh... yeah! Flip, are you serious? Really?"
"Absolutely and one hundred percent."
Fortunately, this answer didn't paralyze me again, and I finally managed to muster an appropriate response.
"Flip, I fell in love with you too. The very first day I met you."
The next moment we were in each other's arms, and all the tension fell away from me. This was what I had dreamed of for so long. How often had I hoped for it, and how often had I been disappointed. It all seemed to have come to an end now, a very happy ending.
"Philipp, does this mean we're together now?"
"Yes. If you want me..."
"Idiot, of course I want you! You and no one else!"
"Um, guys, I'm so sorry to interrupt, but I think it's time we got back to the others. Kevin probably needs to get home too, right?"
That was true, though; time had passed mercilessly. However, one thing still needed to be clarified.
"Philipp, should we tell anyone?"
I know. Horribly rational and unromantic in such a wonderful situation. But we had to face reality...
"That we're together?"
"Exactly. I'll follow your lead."
"I... I think Tim already knows. And I've always told Veronika everything. So we might as well tell them."
"But what about your brother? He probably won't understand what this is all about yet, but what if he blurts it out in front of your parents?"
"You're right, Kevy wouldn't understand anyway, so there's no point in telling him directly. If he asks, we'll see. And as for my parents... I think I'll tell them. Today."
"Are you sure? This is a big step!"
"I know. But I want to finally get it over with. After all, your mother brought good news..."
"Okay. If you really want it. Should I come with you?"
Philipp thought for a moment.
"No. I can manage. But thanks for the offer."
"Okay. Will you call me afterward? I'd like to know how it went."
"I promise. But now we really should check on the others."
So we made our way downstairs, where the rest of the group was already waiting for us. Kevin was back in his own clothes, and his sister had already laid out the thick jackets.
"There you are. Philipp, we have to go, otherwise our parents will worry."
"Okay, I'm ready too. Let's go."
As Philipp put on his jacket, we both couldn't take our eyes off each other. I somehow had the feeling we'd have a hard time keeping our newfound relationship a secret. The questioning looks from Flip's sister confirmed my suspicion.
The three "stones" said their goodbyes and headed home, and I watched them for a while. When I returned to the kitchen, both Mom and Tim were grinning happily at me.
"Congratulations!"
And in stereo… But I think the congratulations were really appropriate.
"Thank you, thank you, but don't be jealous."
"Why should we be jealous? Tim has his Veronika, and I have Reinhardt. All the family members are married—what more could you ask for?"
She was right, though.
"I'm seeing this correctly. I mean, with Danny, I know that he and Philipp are a couple. And with you, Tim, it's serious too. Right?"
My little brother blushed slightly, then nodded.
"Great. Okay, guys, off to the living room. I think it's time for a bottle of champagne."
Well, that was a whole new thing! It really seemed to be a very special day for Mom; she only resorted to such measures on very special occasions.
"And what about your lover? Shouldn't we wait for him?"
"Don't worry, he'll show up as soon as the bottle's open. But... uh, what I completely forgot... Tim, he more or less already suspects it from you. But Danny, would you like to tell him that you're taken too? He'd definitely be happy for you."
I didn't have to think about it for long.
"I want to tell him."
"Well, then everything's clear. Danny, will you take care of the glasses?"
»Okay.«
We went into the living room, where I pulled out the best champagne glasses we had in the house. Shortly afterward, Mom appeared with the opened bottle. And no sooner had the first glass been poured than the front door opened and Reinhardt walked in.
"I'm back!"
"Put down and come into the living room, we have something to celebrate!"
While he peeled off his coat, Mutti poured the remaining glasses, and as soon as that was done, Reinhardt marched into the room.
"Champagne? For Friday? What's going on here?"
We left it to Mom to tell her loved one the reasons for the celebrations.
"Reinhardt, our big boy is in love!"
Tim's father looked at me.
"Successful or hopeless?"
Before I could answer, he continued speaking.
"I can see, with your beaming face the answer is clear. And who's the lucky one?"
»Philipp.«
Reinhardt frowned slightly.
"Philipp? I've heard that name before... Isn't that the boy whose parents you wanted to visit today, Maria?"
"Exactly. Things got a little hectic. But in the end, everything turned out well."
"Well then: Congratulations!"
"Thanks."
Now Reinhardt wanted to reach for his glass, but Mom stopped him.
"Wait, sir! That's only half the story."
"So? Even more to celebrate—in one day?"
"Well, what was already hinted at yesterday has been confirmed today. Our little one is also in safe hands."
"Oh? The Veronika we were talking about yesterday?"
Reinhardt's reaction was, logically, less surprised than when he heard the news about me, but still very pleased.
»Yes, Paps.«
"Well, that's news... So, of course, I congratulate you too, Tim!"
"Thanks, Dad!"
I had watched Reinhardt very closely during this exchange. I wanted to see his reaction to the final confirmation that his beloved Tim was with a girl, thus putting his questions and possible fears about Tim's sexual orientation to rest. I expected some relief, no matter how much he accepted me; after all, this was about his biological son. But no. All I saw was open, honest joy, and when Reinhardt turned back to me, I could see that this joy was for me as much as it was for Tim. This was truly a day to celebrate!
"So, how about this? Can we toast now, or is there some more news to announce first?"
"No, Reinhardt, that's it for now. That's enough for now, right?"
We couldn't agree more, and shortly afterward, our glasses clinked together. Afterwards, we sat down in the corner of the couch and each took turns telling what the others hadn't witnessed. This took some time, of course, and I was starting to feel a little uneasy. How had Flip been doing in the meantime? Had he already told his parents everything? How had they reacted to the news? In the long run, this growing nervousness didn't go unnoticed.
"Danny, what's wrong, why are you so restless?"
"Why isn't Philipp calling? He wanted to tell me right away how things went at home."
"Don't worry, Danny, don't worry. Everything will be fine, believe me. It just takes time; there's a lot to discuss."
"Do you think so, Mom?"
"Sure. Just wait, he'll call you later. And let's have something to eat."
Not such a bad idea. The pounding in my head from the events of the afternoon had now been joined by the growling of my stomach. We went into the kitchen, where we immediately put some fresh rolls with sausage and cheese to their intended use.
"By the way, I spoke with Ludwig on the phone today. It wasn't easy to get his phone number, but I managed it in the end."
Ludwig, Ludwig... Which Ludwig? I rummaged through my memories, but couldn't find anything. Tim and Reinhardt were also perplexed, which, fortunately, Mom noticed.
"Uncle Ludwig. Helga's ex-husband."
Now it clicked for me. Uncle Ludwig, the rich guy Helga had been married to for a short time.
"I wanted to know if he knew any reason why Helga freaked out so much."
"And?"
Reinhardt asked the question that was on all of our minds.
"At first, he was very dismissive and didn't want to come clean. But I realized he must know something, so I kept prodding. And then he spilled the beans. Danny, do you know why the two of them got divorced back then?"
"Not exactly. Wasn't there something about him cheating on her?"
"Exactly. She basically caught him red-handed. And now here's the kicker: with a man!"
Three jaws dropped and hit the tabletop.
"Well, Ludwig is bisexual and has had a lover for ages. He married Helga because it looked better socially."
That explained a lot, if not everything, of course. She'd had an incredibly bad experience with "one of us" and then projected it onto everyone else. I could certainly understand her shock, but not what she'd built up from it and how she'd treated me, her own nephew. And Mom, too, of course. I was pretty sure I'd hardly ever be able to forgive her for that. And besides, I didn't believe she'd ever change her own attitude. The "Aunt Helga" chapter was more or less closed for me.
I refrained from making any comment on this news; I actually didn't want to hear or think about it anymore.
I didn't need to, because at that moment the phone rang and I broke all the short-distance world records in my sprint to the device lying in the living room.
»Flip?!?«
"Uh, yeah, that's me. Danny?"
"Exactly."
"You have a strange way of answering the phone."
Now that he said it…
"Sorry, I've been waiting for your call the whole time."
"It's okay. I'm sorry it took so long, we had a lot to discuss."
"So? Now tell me, how did it go?"
"You're quite impatient! Could it be that you were even more nervous than I was?"
"It's possible. And if you don't start talking soon, I'll personally crawl through the line and tickle you!"
"That sounds more like a promise to me than a threat. But okay, I don't want to be like that. Everything went well. My parents took it pretty lightly. They were surprised that I told them so quickly, but I guess the fact that I'm gay didn't shock them that much anymore."
A huge weight was lifted from my heart. The first part of Philipp's big confession had gone well.
"It will take them a while to fully get used to it, but they told me that the most important thing for them is that I am happy."
Well, what more could you ask for!
"Great, I'm happy for you!"
"And I was even more so. My knees were shaking a little. But your mother did a really good job. Can you give her a big hello? From both me and my parents? And our thanks?"
"Sure, she'll be happy to hear that everything went well."
"Well, and then I told my people I was with you."
"So? Come on, don't make me squirm like that!"
"What's the big deal? I'm never allowed to see you again, I'll have to change schools, and if you ever show your face near me, my parents will report you for seducing a minor."
»Was???«
"Just kidding. Relax."
"You're playing with my life, Flip! For an old man like me, that could quickly lead to a heart attack."
"Old man, I see. I guess I'll have to think this whole thing over again. If such a little joke brings you to the brink of a heart attack, then you'd hardly survive a relationship with me for long..."
"Oh, no, I'll pull myself together."
"Well, hopefully. I'm not the one who ends up getting into trouble. Like, elder abuse."
"All right, all right. But seriously. What did your parents say about this?"
"Well, my mother is pretty enthusiastic about you; you impressed her a bit at your meeting at the dojo. She thinks I couldn't have done much better. And my father relies entirely on her judgment. In general, they trust me completely and don't intend to interfere in my life. But..."
Aha, now it happened.
"But what?"
"But I had to listen to a lesson in safe sex right away."
That seemed somehow familiar to me.
"I've already done that, too. But Philipp, honestly, I'm in no hurry. I don't think I'm ready yet."
"Danny, I feel the same way. I'm really glad we're on the same wavelength."
"I'm glad I have you for now. I don't see any reason to rush into anything now."
"I agree."
"Different topic. Do you have any plans for tomorrow?"
"No. Why, do you have any ideas? I'm actually fine with anything, as long as we're together."
How that warmed my heart, which had been so lonely just a short time ago!
"I wanted to do a little shopping around the department stores. Now that Christmas is over, a lot of things have gotten cheaper, and I still need a few things."
"Okay, good idea. Will you pick me up at home?"
"Sure. When should I be there?"
"Around nine, half past nine. Or is that too late?"
"No, no problem. We'll hop on the tram, it'll only take a few minutes to get into town."
"Good. So then..."
"Okay then. Flip, thank you for your call. See you tomorrow?"
"Yes, see you tomorrow."
Brief silence on the line.
"And Danny?"
»And?«
"I love you."
"I love you too, Philipp. I'm so happy..."
"Me too."
Silence again.
"Then bye until tomorrow, Flip."
»Tschüß, Danny.«
Despite saying goodbye, I couldn't bring myself to hang up. And since I didn't hear a click on the line, Philipp must have felt the same way.
"Flip, are you still there?"
»Yes.«
"Okay, listen. I'll count to three, then we both hang up, okay?"
"Agreed."
"Good. One... two... three."
Surprisingly, I actually managed to press the button that ended the connection. I carefully put the phone down, and then my control was gone.
»Yippiiieeeeeeeh!«
The dance of joy I performed would have done any Native American medicine man proud. My loud cry of joy had attracted the rest of the family, and they now watched my performance in amazement. When I had calmed down somewhat, I looked into three grinning faces.
"Can we assume that everything went well with your Philipp?"
»Yes!«
"Well, I already told you that."
"I know, Mom, I know. I should trust you a lot more."
"Well, finally you admit it. So, what's next for you two?"
"We want to roam the city center together tomorrow morning."
"Do that, you know you'll need a few things for the winter holidays anyway."
Did she really have to remind me? Our class was going to spend a whole week at a winter camp. In the Ore Mountains. To go skiing! I actually wanted to get out of it, but Mom wouldn't allow it. Well, if Flip came along too—and I really hoped so!—then I'd survive that too.
The rest of the day passed in a generally cheerful mood; I teased Tim about his Veronika, he teased me about my Philipp, and our parents teased us both about our respective love interests. Shortly after eleven, Tim and I were in bed, and shortly thereafter, I was fast asleep.

---

I spent a very peaceful, pleasant night—no idea what I dreamed about, but it must have been something beautiful. Nevertheless, I woke up very early for me—it was just 7:30 a.m. when I couldn't stand being in bed any longer. I'd been lying awake since 7:00 a.m., mentally replaying the events of the past few days. They were pretty mixed, and not all of them were the way I would have liked, but the end result made up for everything.
As I said, it was 7:30 a.m., and I sat up in bed. A glance across the room showed me that my little brother was still sleeping soundly. And really soundly—judging by the smile on his face. Luckily, I no longer had any reason to envy him—after all, my little brother more than deserved a little joy in his life.
On the silent soles of my US one-piece, I crept to the window and closed it, glancing at the outside thermometer. Nine degrees below zero – winter still had us firmly in its grip. My next stop was the heater, which I set to daytime temperatures. Then it was off to the bathroom, where I leisurely attended to my morning duties. First I took a shower, then stood in front of the sink and mirror. I took my time; after all, I wanted to look perfect for Philipp! Although it wasn't really necessary, I grabbed my razor and removed a few stray, unruly bits of beard fluff. I brushed my teeth for at least twice as long as necessary, and used mouthwash so vigorously that it was almost unpleasant. A little aftershave, some deodorant—thankfully, my hair didn't need too much attention.
Once I'd completed all my formalities, I took a long, thorough look at my naked body in the mirror. Okay, I wasn't a model athlete, but all in all, I could probably be pleased with myself. The last remnants of baby fat had long since disappeared, but on the other hand, I wasn't so skinny that you could count my ribs.
"I guess I should really be glad you're gay. Otherwise, I'd have to seriously worry about Veronika choosing you over me."
I jumped violently at Tim's first words. He stood in the bathroom door, grinning broadly from ear to ear – the door I hadn't noticed opening during my intense self-examination.
"My God, do you have to scare me like that?"
"Yes. I have to go to the bathroom, and if I have to wait much longer for you to finally finish, I'll shit my pants."
"Okay, okay, I'm leaving. I'm done anyway."
I grabbed my pajamas, and at that moment it hit me that I was once again running around stark naked in front of my brother. I was slowly getting the impression that I was actually some kind of undercover streaker.
I left Tim to himself and wandered back to our room, where I put on the first layer of clothes. It was just after 8:00, so all in all, I hadn't been in the bathroom as long as I'd feared.
The next step led me to the kitchen, where Mom was already preparing breakfast.
"Morning, Mom."
"Good morning, Danny. Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, thank you, very good."
»I wonder why that was...«
I could have saved myself the trouble of answering that.
»Hunger?«
"Sure, always."
Shortly afterwards, a plate of rolls and a cup of steaming tea appeared in front of me – and I made short work of both.
»Daniel…«
Oh, oh. Daniel. What have I done now?
»And?«
"Danny, I really don't mean to offend you, but... well, I just want to be sure. Okay, we've had this conversation before, but still. I just want to ask you not to rush into anything with Philipp. Take your time, and when you two... well, you know... when you get intimate, please keep safety in mind, okay? You still have condoms, right?"
If I had had a mirror, I would have seen that my head looked like a brake light during an emergency stop.
"Mom, I'm having breakfast!"
"You don't. I specifically waited until you were finished. I'll never start again, but I'm your mother, and I just had to make sure."
"All right, all right. But don't worry. We're nowhere near that point yet, and if it ever happens, we'll be careful. I promise."
"I just wanted to confirm that. So, when and where do you want to meet?"
"I'll pick up Flip at home, we agreed to meet around nine."
"Do you know where he lives?"
Hmm, of course not. I knew the phone number by heart by now, but not the address. But I had my beloved mother.
"No. Go ahead, where do I have to go?"
"Dörrenstraße 7. You know where that is?"
"Yeah, no problem. It'll take me ten minutes to get there."
I screwed myself up from my chair.
"When am I supposed to be home? Lunch, that is."
"We won't eat before one o'clock. Reinhardt and I want to get out too. If you can't make it, please call and leave a message on the answering machine."
"Okay, no problem."
"And here's some money. You know what you need."
I knew that, though. When I reached for the banknotes, my eyes widened—which, of course, Mom noticed, too.
"But that doesn't mean you have to spend it all! Just a word of caution."
Too bad. I had a flat three hundred euros at my disposal.
"Danny, Reinhardt, and I discussed something last night. Part of the money is for a cell phone."
Jaaaaa! Finally!
"Don't get too excited, this isn't a license to waste money. You get a prepaid package, and we'll give you a five-euro subsidy every month for call charges. Anything above that, you'll have to pay yourself—and don't think you only need to come to us when your pocket money isn't enough. Got it?"
"Understood! Thank you. But why the sudden change of heart?"
"After everything that's happened in the last few days, we think it would be better if you were always available or could get help if necessary. Thanks to Reinhardt, he finally convinced me."
I would certainly do that if I had the chance.
"Okay. What about Tim, does he get one too?"
"We'll talk to him about that later; so far he hasn't shown any increased interest."
"What haven't I shown increased interest in so far?"
Speaking of the devil (or angel?)... changing of the guard at the breakfast table.
"Brother, I'm getting..."
"Good morning everyone!"
Now the last missing family member appeared in the kitchen. We greeted each other, then Tim turned back to me.
"What do you get?"
"A cell phone."
»Have you finally made it...«
I grinned happily and with great satisfaction.
"Okay, I'll get ready and then leave. Tim, what are you actually planning?"
"I'm meeting Veronika and Kevin for ice skating. But not until around ten."
Why wasn't I surprised by this information? But I was happy for him.
I marched up to our room and began the difficult task of choosing an outfit appropriate for the happy occasion. In the end, I settled on a more conservative style: blue jeans and a checked sweatshirt were the choice of the day. I looked at my watch; there was still time to kill, but I was far too impatient for that. I simply couldn't stand it anymore; I had to go to Philipp's! So I got fully dressed, went back downstairs, added a jacket, boots, hat, and gloves to my outfit, said goodbye to the three family members still sitting at the breakfast table, and set off on the short walk to the Stein family's house.
To say I ran to Philipp would be wrong. I was more like floating on air, and eight minutes later I was standing in front of the front door at number 7. After a brief, slightly nervous hesitation, I pressed the doorbell.
I didn't have to wait long before the front door opened and Mrs. Stein's face appeared in the crack.
"Danny! Hello. We weren't expecting you this early."
It was actually just after half past eight.
"Sorry. If I'm inconvenient, I can always go again."
"Nonsense, boy, come inside and get warm."
I didn't need to be told twice, and now I greeted Flip's mother.
"Good morning, Ms. Stein. I'm really sorry I'm early."
"No problem. Couldn't take it anymore?"
A knowing smile played around my hostess's lips. Was I really that easy to see through?
"Uh…"
"No need to say anything, Danny. It's okay. But you'll have to wait a while for Philipp; I just woke him up. After yesterday, he was having a little trouble falling asleep, so we let him sleep a little longer."
"No problem."
"So, first give me your jacket. And please take off your shoes, okay?"
Of course I did, and then Mrs. Stein led me into the living room, where a medium-sized, blond man with laugh lines around his eyes stood up as I entered.
"Heiner, this is Danny Thom, Philipp's friend. Danny, this is my husband."
My heart started beating so fast and loudly that it could be heard throughout the room. I looked at Flip's father, trying to figure out what to expect from him. My ability to read facial expressions failed miserably, however; all I recognized was an interested, pondering gaze directed at me from deep blue eyes. We stood there in silence for a few seconds. Then it was time to announce the verdict.
"So, you're the one who turned our eldest son's head!"
I was getting more and more nervous. Even from his voice, I couldn't predict what would happen next. What did he mean by "turned his head"? Hopefully, not in the sense of "seduced into being gay."
"I just have a few words to say to you."
Oh dear, here it came. Apparently, not everything was as good as Philipp had told me on the phone.
»Welcome to the family!«
What? Did I just hear that right? I lifted my eyes, which had just drifted down toward the floor, and looked into a now friendly, smiling face!
"Heiner, that had to happen! You're completely confusing the poor boy!"
"Sorry, I just couldn't resist saying that. Danny, don't worry. We've spent a lot of time over the last few days thinking about what it would mean for us if Philipp were gay. In the end, we agreed that only one thing matters to us: that our son is happy. If he is with you, then so be it, and you will always be welcome here. But I must warn you: break his heart, and there will be no place in the world where you can hide from me!"
That said, it was all there was to it. And I didn't have to worry about the last threat.
"Mr. Stein, I don't intend to break your son's heart or hurt him in any way. I'm damn serious about him; I love him."
"That's what I'll advise you too! Otherwise, there'd be nothing left of you for Dad to use to make good on his threat. I'd find you before he did, and then God help you!"
So, in this family, the protective instinct really seemed to be extremely strong! Now even Philipp's little sister was threatening me!
"Hello Veronika. You can rest assured, I will never hurt your brother, at least not intentionally or knowingly."
"Then that's good. Where is Flip anyway?"
"Your brother just got up; he had a short night. Danny, if you want, go up to his room. Up the stairs, second door on the left."
"Should I? I don't want to rush him."
"Go ahead, sometimes he needs it a little, otherwise he dawdles too much."
I shrugged, then made my way to my beloved. Up the stairs, first door, second door. A completely plain door, no stickers, nothing at all. I knocked, listened, but there was no response. A second knock – with the same result. So I gathered my courage, grabbed the doorknob, and let myself in. Into a completely empty room. Completely empty in the sense of people; there was already furniture! But no Philipp in sight.
I used the time to look around the room a bit. It was a typical teenager's room, really. Not particularly tidy, the bed only superficially made after a night's sleep, a slight mess of school supplies on the desk next to a computer. Several bookshelves, crammed full of crime and science fiction novels. A large wardrobe in the corner of the room. But something caught my eye. No pictures, posters, or placards adorned the walls. Strange, I had just stuck a new B3 poster on the wall, and Tim had a new Lara Croft poster to replace the one lost in the fire. But Philipp's? Nothing. No film poster, no music poster, no sports picture. I'd have to ask him about that sometime.
»Danny!«
Oops, I must have been so deep in thought again that I hadn't even noticed the real reason I was there enter the room. I quickly turned to the door, and there stood Philipp in all his glory. Unfortunately, almost completely covered by his long underwear, but still breathtaking. And then a special detail caught my attention. Flip was wearing glasses! And they looked damn good on him, accentuating his handsome face even more. I couldn't get enough of him – and once again, my consciousness completely shut down.
"Danny! What's wrong with you?"
And again rudely awakened…
"Uh... sorry! Hello Flip!"
"Hello back. What was wrong with you?"
"I'm sorry, I've just never seen you with glasses before."
»Mist!«
Before I could even look, Philipp had ripped the glasses off his nose, hidden them in his left hand so quickly that I was almost afraid he would crush them, and then stood there with his head bowed to the ground.
"Why are you taking them off? They looked really good."
This brought a slight lifting of the head and a doubtful look.
"Do you honestly mean that?"
"Yes, absolutely. Why do you doubt it?"
Ha! A slight smile played around the lips of the person opposite me.
"Well... When I needed glasses a few years ago, a few people called me a glasses snake. And that stuck. As soon as I could, I switched to contact lenses. I only wear glasses at home now, or when I don't like contact lenses for some reason."
"They must have been some pretty idiots. Philipp, believe me, those glasses really suit you!"
"Does that mean I have to wear them all the time now?"
"I mean, I don't care. I like you with and without glasses, just wear whatever you feel like."
I took two steps toward Philipp, so that I was now standing directly opposite him. I took his hand with his glasses.
"May I?"
He nodded, and I took the glasses, which luckily remained intact, from his hand, opened them, and carefully put them back on.
"Well, now at least you can see me properly again."
"And that's a good thing."
The next moment, we were in each other's arms, and after a short while, our lips met. And now it was time for me to put the French kissing skills I'd acquired with my little brother into practice ;-) Unfortunately, just as we were really getting into the mood and I was about to suggest canceling the shopping trip, our intimate togetherness was abruptly interrupted. Children's feet came pounding toward us, and we were barely able to separate in time before Kevin stormed into the room in his pajamas and jumped into his big brother's arms.
»Flip!«
"Good morning, Kevin."
Philipp threw the little troublemaker into the air twice and, of course, caught him again, which the little boy responded to with delighted giggles. During these flying stunts, he also discovered that he wasn't alone in the room with his brother.
"Hey you!"
»Hello Kevin.«
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm picking up your brother to go shopping."
"Great! Can I come along?"
We both looked at Philipp, who shook his head slightly.
"No, Kevy, you want to go ice skating with Vroni and Tim today."
"That's right! I want to ice skate!"
"Well, you should go wash up now and then dress warmly. Remember, Mom will be checking on you."
"Ugh. I don't want to wear tights."
I had to grin slightly.
"Then you can't go ice skating either."
»Well done…«
And just as quickly as he had stormed in, he disappeared again. Philipp suddenly stood there all alone again, smiling to himself.
"Tell me, is the little one always so hyperactive?"
"No, not always. Most of the time it's much worse."
»Flip?«
»And?«
"You wouldn't believe how much I've missed you these last few hours."
"Same to you."
And again we lay in each other's arms, but this time we managed to separate ourselves after a relatively short time.
"You're pretty early, Danny."
"I know, I just couldn't stand being at home any longer."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're cute?"
"Nope. Did you taste that with your tongue earlier?"
Now Philipp laughed loudly.
"That too. Okay, I'll get dressed too."
»If it has to be...«
Another radiant smile in my direction, then the blonde, divine angel I was head over heels in love with reached for his clothes and covered his body with another layer of fabric. Light blue jeans and a white fleece shirt. Well, if clothes couldn't be avoided, at least they looked nice on Flip's body. Especially, of course, because the jeans were quite figure-hugging. And he had a body worth emphasizing!
"But now I'd rather switch to contact lenses."
"How come?"
"Because I don't want to stand in the dark with my glasses completely fogged up every time we enter a well-heated store."
Was that so? I really had no experience in this matter. Philipp disappeared briefly toward the bathroom, and shortly afterwards he reappeared with the nose bike in his hand.
"So, done. Now a proper breakfast and we can get started."
So we went downstairs, and in this family too it was obviously customary to eat breakfast in the kitchen.
"There you are at last. What kept you so long? Or wait, I'll take back the question..."
"You don't have to, Mommy. Kevy burst in as I was getting dressed."
Ah yes. Just as he was getting dressed. Interesting description of what really happened. But I don't think Flip's parents were meant to or wanted to know that in detail.
"Well then, sit down, breakfast is ready. Danny, you're okay, aren't you?"
»Actually, I already had breakfast at home...«
"Actually, that's not true. You're growing boys, you need to eat properly."
Who could resist that logic? And as if I'd ever refused food...
Fifteen minutes later, we were both fed, and it was time to head into town. A quick farewell to the assembled Stein family, and we were off. The gods of public transportation were with us; we didn't have to wait long for a "bimmel," which spit us out into the city center ten minutes later.
"So, here we are."
"What do you actually want to look at?"
"First things first. A cell phone."
»You must have money...«
"Sponsored by Mom and Dad. I've begged long enough."
"Well then, let's go."
Half an hour later, I'd gotten rid of my first 75-euro note and in return, I owned a cell phone—the type and network of which I won't say anything about here. (Perhaps a manufacturer or network operator will get in touch and would like to be immortalized here? For a reasonable fee—for a yet-to-be-determined charitable cause, of course ;-)
"And what else do you need now?"
"First, your help."
"Sure, go ahead."
»You're from Bavaria...«
»Yes, of course!«
"Then you can definitely ski, right?"
"Who can't do that?"
"Me, for example."
"And now you want to change that?"
"There's no question of wanting to. Have you heard about our class trip in February?"
"Yes, there was something. Why, are we going to the Alps?"
"No, not quite that high. But high enough for skiing, and I definitely won't be able to avoid it."
"And now you need skis and everything else that goes with them."
"Whatever else comes with it, we can rent skis and boots on site."
"So you still need a ski suit and gloves."
"Exactly. And I hope you can give me some tips."
"Sure, let's go."
Did I mention that I'm not a big fan of shopping for clothes? I think so. Trying things on was especially annoying, and that was the case this time too. Only Philipp's presence prevented me from fleeing the sports department of the largest department store in town. But after a while, we narrowed the selection down to two items—actually, to one, since they were two pieces from the same line. One was a combination of dungarees and a jacket, and the other was the matching jumpsuit. I tried on both.
"What do you think, Flip, what should I take?"
»Take the Overall.«
"That was a quick decision! Any special reasons, Mr. Advisor?"
"Yes. I think it's more affordable for beginners, and you are a beginner."
"True. But why?"
"If you throw yourself into the snow—and that will happen often enough—there's no chance of snow getting between your jacket and trousers."
"Sounds logical. Anything else?"
"Yes. The jumpsuit looks better. It kind of accentuates the figure."
Oh, someone must have read my thoughts about his jeans earlier.
"Okay, the second reason convinces me."
»I knew it...«
We picked out a few more gloves, then some more money changed hands.
"Thanks, Flip. I'm not that knowledgeable about this stuff. To be honest, I don't even want to."
"Come on, this will definitely be fun. I'll help you study, too."
"Yeah, yeah, funny. Certainly for you, when I'm constantly falling to my knees in front of you. I'm not so sure about myself."
"We'll see. Okay, now I'd like my consulting fee."
"And what were you thinking about?"
Philipp cast a quick glance around, and the next moment he pulled me into an empty elevator, pressed a few buttons, the doors closed, and he began collecting his fee. In kind. Not that I'm complaining ;-) However, I never would have thought my newly outed lover would answer the phone like that! After an unfortunately brief mutual tongue massage, there was a "ding": we had reached the ground floor, and the elevator doors opened. Reluctantly, we separated, but I thought Flip had gotten away a bit short. So my right index finger found its way to the "close" button on the doors—just in time before several grannies could get into the elevator.
"Sorry, it's already full!"
And then we were on our way back up – the "payment process" was repeated. Unfortunately, when we reached the top floor, things didn't go so smoothly – a young mother with a stroller rushed into the elevator so quickly that we had no time to defend ourselves. The doors closed, and we headed down again.
"You can keep kissing as far as I'm concerned, just don't force yourselves."
Oops, we must have been too slow to react when we arrived on the fourth floor and were spotted through the opening elevator doors! And once again, two bright red faces were due. On the other hand... If they asked us so nicely...
We were startled by a clearing of the throat.
"Guys, we're downstairs, the doors are about to open."
We let go of each other and, with a slightly embarrassed but grateful smile towards our fellow passenger, we left the elevator and then the department store.
"So, Danny, what do we do now?"
A glance at the clock showed me that it was already half past eleven.
"Are you expected for lunch?"
"Not necessarily expected. I'm either there or I'm not. Why?"
"Would you like to join us for dinner?"
"I don't know. I don't want to be a burden to anyone. Especially not so unannounced."
"You're definitely not a burden to anyone. Mom will definitely be happy, and my stepfather would like to meet you too. After all, I've already told him so much about you..."
"Oh God, is that a threat? What have you been saying about me?"
"Since I only know good things about you, that's all I can tell him."
»Alter Schmeichler.«
"I'm just telling the truth!"
"Hmm. Will you even have enough food to feed me?"
"Today we're having potato soup with sausage. We always make a huge pot of it anyway. Everything's already ready and just needs to be warmed up."
"Okay, if that's the case... Then I'd better call my people and tell them. I don't want them to file a missing person report on me."
"Okay, let's go home, you can call from there."
We made our way home – and were almost crushed in the process. Like the department stores, the tram was also packed – apparently, quite a few people had waited until after Christmas to spend their money. Slightly disheveled, we reached the pleasant warmth of the building shortly after noon.
We were expected there... by no one. All members of my family were conspicuously absent, except for a note on the kitchen table:
"Whoever gets there first: set the table!"
Who could resist such a kind request? Certainly not a good son like me.
"Flip, the phone's in the living room. Call me, I'll take care of the feeding tools in the meantime."
"Shouldn't I help you with that?"
"No, never mind, no need. I know where everything is, it'll be quick."
»Okay.«
It didn't take long before the table was set – all that was missing was the contents of the plates. Hopefully, Mom wouldn't keep us waiting too long...
"So, everything's settled. I need to show up again for coffee. However..."
"However?"
"Then you're invited."
"For a highly embarrassing interrogation?"
"I don't think you have anything to worry about. They just want to get to know you better."
"Well, hopefully. So, shall we go up?"
Flip nodded in agreement, and shortly afterward, we made ourselves comfortable on my bed with some quiet music. No! Not so comfortable! I said on the bed, not in the bed... It was all still completely adult-friendly. For now, the feeling of sitting cuddled up close with Philipp was completely enough for me – and he seemed to feel the same way. Good, good. A little tongue acrobatics also came into play ;-)
But at some point everyone needs to take a deep breath, and Flip used this opportunity to ask a question.
"You, Danny... I..."
"What is?"
"Well... I think this is wonderful. Here with you. But... I don't know if I'm ready for more. But I don't want to disappoint you either. This is all so new to me!"
Okay, that was certainly a pretty stupid moment, but I had to laugh. But at least I managed to keep the laughter quiet.
"Are you laughing at me or at me?"
"An. Flip, that last sentence could have been mine. This is all just as new to me."
"What? I thought..."
"Philipp, honestly. You're my first boyfriend. And also the first boy I've ever felt so attracted to. Sure, I've had crushes on a few, but you? The first time we met, I was almost blown away."
"Man, and I thought I was going to embarrass myself completely because I have no experience with this stuff! I've never kissed anyone before, let alone done anything."
"Well, for a beginner, you're a great kisser. If I may say so with all my experience."
"What experience? Didn't you just say you had none?"
So I told my sweetheart about Tim's surprise kiss in the T-shirt store.
"Tim? Tell me, should I be worried? Or should I even be jealous?"
"Oh no, really not! Tim's totally straight, you can count on that. Besides, he'd get into a lot of trouble with your sister!"
"When would I get into trouble with Veronika?"
Unnoticed by either of us, my little brother had come into the house and then into the room and had overheard my last words.
"If you try to get close to my boyfriend again. But don't worry, Veronika couldn't hurt you. I'd be the first to get it, and that wouldn't leave anything for my sister."
Oh, my dear Flip was quite possessive! And I thought it was wonderful!
"Philipp, I swear to you solemnly that I have no further interest in Danny. I love him—but only as a big brother. In quotation marks only."
"Good to hear that."
»But things are quite different with your sister...«
"Is she here too?"
"No, she went home with Kevin. Seriously, that pen got us! How do you even put up with it? Seven days a week! I couldn't handle that."
"A little taste of your own future children, little brother."
"I don't know what's wrong with you. Kevy is the nicest, quietest little brother I could imagine..."
"I'm sorry, brother-in-law-to-be, but that doesn't exactly speak volumes about your imagination."
"Tell me, Danny, as your boyfriend, do I have to put up with this from your brother?"
"Uh... yes. Unfortunately, I have to agree with him."
"Then I guess I'm outvoted."
"However!"
"You're right, sometimes the pen is really annoying. Still, I wouldn't trade it for anything else."
»LINE UP FOR FOOD!«
Ha! Exactly what I wanted to hear! And judging by the excited looks on the others' faces, I wasn't the only one who thought so.
"Whoever gets to the bottom last has to do the dishes!"
As usual with such "suggestions," the one who suggested it had the advantage over the surprised others—and in this case, I was the one who had initiated the race. Pulling Flip along with me, I stormed out of the room, leaving Tim with the ungrateful last place. But since I had already set the table, it was only right that he take care of the dishes. Although, for us, washing up just meant loading the dishwasher anyway—so Tim would survive.
Shortly afterwards, we entered the kitchen, where Mom and Reinhard were busy filling the plates I had strategically placed with potato soup.
"There you are. I see, the whole cast. Is Veronika here too?"
"No, she's home. Can Philipp eat with us?"
"Sure, no problem."
Whether that wasn't a problem remained to be seen; perhaps he was an even "worse" eater than Tim and I.
The next few minutes passed with Reinhardt getting to know his potential son-in-law – and, of course, we ate dinner, which was never a quiet occasion in our house. After a while, it was Tim's father who made Philipp and me blush profusely.
"Danny, you really have good taste, I have to give you that."
At first, we couldn't utter a word. Admittedly, everyone present already knew before our lunch, but this situation, this direct encounter, was still reason enough to be at least a little nervous. The fact that our relationship seemed to be fully accepted was, of course, a relief, but it would still take a while until I, at least, felt completely comfortable again. Introducing a partner to my parents for the first time—I believe someone who claims to take it all in stride, just as I would believe a politician who says they devote all their energy exclusively to the people. That wasn't a compliment...
Luckily, Mom changed the subject.
"So, Danny, were you successful in your shopping?"
"Yes! By the way, thanks again for the cell phone. And to you too, Reinhardt, I heard you were the driving force behind it."
"Well, I think we all just feel a little more comfortable knowing you're carrying one of those things. After the incident at school and what happened with your aunt, we'd rather not take any chances."
"Anyway, thanks."
"Tim, how about you, do you need one too?"
"Well, if you ask me... No, it's not necessary. I don't want to carry such a thing around with me all the time, and if I don't carry it around, then I don't need it in the first place."
"As you wish. We just wanted to offer it to you."
Logical, after all, they certainly wanted to avoid one of us feeling disadvantaged in any way compared to the other.
"And otherwise? Did you get any things for the school trip?"
"Sure! I specifically hired a Bavarian Lederhosen-wearing Sepp with Alpine experience as my consultant!"
A quick glance at Philipp showed me that he didn't take offense at my description.
"Consultants, I see. Such consultants usually want to be paid well, do you think you can afford Philipp's fee?"
Now both Flip and I burst out laughing, much to the surprise of the others present.
"Well, I found Reinhardt's question quite funny, but I still feel that it can't be the sole cause of this ranting."
"Let's just say I've already made a substantial down payment. And don't worry, that won't leave me begging."
Meaningful glances were exchanged between Mutti and Reinhardt; they both seemed to have at least some idea of what currency was being discussed.
"Well then, let's go to the fashion show. I see we're all done eating."
No way around it. I headed upstairs, and as soon as I got to the room, there was a knock and Mom poked her head in.
"Can I come in?"
"Go ahead."
"Well then, show me what your sweetheart picked out for you. After all, I need to know if the consultation fee was worth it."
"Hehe, it's not like you have to pay for it!"
"Still, after all, I also bear a certain responsibility for you."
"Okay, here, look at this."
I showed her the red jumpsuit with the black heels.
"Hmm, looks pretty good. But come on, I have to see what it looks like with you in it."
So I wrapped myself up and then strutted around the room in front of my mom.
"Ah yes. Now I know why your Philipp recommended this thing to you."
"Don't you like it?"
"Oh yes! It seems nice and warm, and a jumpsuit is definitely quite practical for a flatlander like you. You'll be rolling around in the snow most of the time anyway."
"Thank you so much. You really have a way of boosting my confidence."
"As if you needed that."
Well, I certainly wouldn't turn down a few caresses for the soul every now and then.
»Daniel?«
Oh no, please not another “Daniel conversation” now!
"Danny, it's really none of my business, but still. You're both old enough to know what you want and what you're doing. We talked about it briefly yesterday, but I'm just thinking about it. Be careful, okay? Here, I quickly got you something today."
What she then pressed into my hand made my blood race again: a pack of condoms and a tube of lubricant.
"That doesn't mean you should use this stuff within the next few hours. I just want you to be properly... er... properly equipped from the start."
"Mom... Philipp and I have already talked about it briefly. Neither of us is as far along as you seem to think. This is all new to us, and we'll definitely take our time and not rush into anything."
She looked at me with some relief.
"Okay. Thanks for being so honest with me. Now, I won't keep you any longer. Run downstairs and show yourself to the others. You're probably starting to get a little too warm in this thing, right?"
I had to agree with her, but that was actually a good sign. The chances that I wouldn't freeze on the school trip were pretty good. That I would probably make a complete fool of myself on the boards was another matter entirely.
I performed my dress-up duties, received approving (and in Flip's case, rather admiring ;-) glances, and then I was able to put on a more appropriate home wardrobe. Upstairs, Mom was sitting on one of the desk chairs, looking somewhat lost at the world.
"Mom? What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing, Danny. It's just... well... I'm slowly realizing that my little boy is growing up. I knew that would happen eventually, but still... It won't be long now until you're finally out of the woods, then you and Philipp will get your own apartment and move out of here. And it won't take much longer for Tim either. A mother's fate..."
I had only half peeled myself out of the overalls, but I still sat down next to her on the chair next to her.
"Oh, Mom, it's really not that far yet. I'll definitely be with you for a while yet. And even if it does happen someday, that doesn't mean I'll disappear from your life."
"I know all that, Danny, but it all came suddenly. I'd never really thought about it, had always repressed it, and now it was like a concentrated load."
We had a similar conversation just a few days ago, but this time it seemed to have hit her a little more seriously. It was actually somewhat relieving to know that, with Reinhardt joining our family, she wouldn't be alone even when I was no longer living with her. Although, to be honest, I had no plans to give up the comforts of "Mommy's Hotel" for the time being.
"Well, I guess I'll have to mother Reinhardt in the future. And then maybe a few grandchildren later."
"Tim will have to take care of that, though."
"Who knows? Maybe in a few years you and Philipp can adopt a child? Or don't you want children?"
"Well, Mom, I really haven't thought about that yet!"
"You're right. Okay, I'm going to pull myself together a bit."
"By the way, I'm invited to coffee at Flip's."
"Ah yes. I assume you'll be squeezed there just like your Flip was with us."
"I fear that, too. But during our brief encounter this morning, everything actually went quite smoothly, so I probably don't have much to worry about."
"I think so too. If they do ask you a little too much, just remember that this is a much newer situation for Philipp's parents than it is for us. Be a little considerate."
"Don't worry, I don't plan on ruining things with my potential in-laws anyway."
"Good. So, I'm going to wander off again and send you your flip."
With these words, he left me alone, and I finally got rid of my ski gear. As I was folding my clothes, the door opened again, and both Philipp and Tim entered the room.
"Well, Danny, looks like my advice worked, your people certainly liked it."
"Okay, okay, you'll get a small fee increase."
"Oh, that's good to hear. Come on then, I'll wait!"
"Hey you two, straight guy in the room!"
"Do I hear envy, little brother?"
"No! But do you have to make out every free minute? Show some consideration for the youth."
»Schon gut. Flip, kannst du noch ein Weilchen warten?«
»Wenn ich später entsprechend Zinsen bekomme…«
»Darüber läßt sich reden. Übrigens, Tim, du wirst mir doch nicht behaupten wollen, daß du mit Veronika ständig nur keusch und züchtig nebeinenander sitzt, oder?«
»Bei allem Respekt, und unter Berücksichtigung der Anwesenheit von Vronis großem Bruder, verweigere ich in diesem Punkt die Aussage.«
»Soso. Naja. Keine Aussage ist auch eine Aussage. Was meinst du, Flip?«
»Schuldig im Sinne der Anklage, würde ich sagen.«
»Um mal ganz unauffällig auf ein anderes Thema zu kommen: was habt ihr heute noch so vor?«
»Danny ist bei uns zum Kaffee eingeladen, ich denke, wir sollten uns so gegen drei auf den Weg machen. Keine Ahnung was wir danach anstellen. Und ihr? Ich nehme doch an, daß du dich wieder mit Veronika triffst, oder?«
»Ja, aber erst später. Wir gehen ins Kino, in die 19 Uhr-Vorstellung, sie will unbedingt diesen neuen Film mit Brad Pitt sehen. Wollt ihr mitkommen?«
»Mal sehen, vielleicht. Wir sprechen noch darüber.«
Die folgende Zeit verbrachten wir mit Musik hören und ein wenig Surfen im Internet, und wie geplant machten wir uns dann gegen 15 Uhr auf den Weg zu Philipps Eltern. In der Zwischenzeit war auch der Akku vom Handy aufgeladen, die Karte war auch schon aktiviert, also konnte ich von nun an stets erreichbar durchs Leben stiefeln. Worauf mich Mutti bei der Verabschiedung auch gleich hinwies und darum bat, anzurufen wenn es später am Abend werden sollte. Was ich natürlich als dankbarer, handyversorgter Sohn ihr auch versprach.
We were already expected at Stein's, and soon we were all sitting together at the coffee table. Well, not all together. Veronika and Tim had played Kevin so tired that morning that he'd been lying in bed, sleeping since lunch. I'd have to remember this tactic when I was with his big brother; sooner or later, we'd have to babysit together.
The conversations at the coffee table were quite bearable; I did have to answer a few questions about myself, but overall, it was kept within limits. Then, however, there came a point where things got a bit personal. Only, Philipp's mother didn't limit herself to addressing this point in a private conversation...
"Boys, I realize we can't forbid you from doing anything, and we can't really control you. We don't really want to know exactly what's going on in your rooms. And no matter how quickly you want to get on with it, it will happen eventually. We want you to be careful during sex. So use condoms and whatever else you need; you probably know more about that than we do."
All of this, mind you, not only in the presence of Philipp and me, no, his father and little sister were also still sitting at the table!
"Danny, from the way you rolled your eyes, I gather this topic has come up before, right?"
"Yes, Ms. Stein, and that was less than three hours ago."
"Well, hopefully it'll work. Philipp, you probably don't know this, but a few months ago, when you had stomach problems, you had a blood test, and they also performed an HIV test. It was negative, and unless you've had any unsafe sex in the meantime, you should be clean by now."
"Mom!"
"That probably means there was nothing like that. Danny, how about you?"
And I thought my mother was bad...
"I had my last blood test in December, and they also did an HIV test. I'm clean, too."
"Very nice. I hope you don't mind me bringing this up, but... well, we know that most of what we've thought about it so far has been based on prejudice, but we still want to be absolutely sure that nothing happens to Flip."
"Mom, I just hope you'll ask Veronika and Tim the same questions!"
"You can count on that, but we'll do it when her boyfriend is there too. Now that Vroni's heard all this, she can prepare for this conversation."
And with that, the long question time, including the security gate, was over, and we were allowed to retreat to Flip's room, where we made ourselves comfortable.
"What do you think, Flip, should we go to the movies with the two youngsters?"
"Do they really want us there?"
"At least Tim offered it. And think about it: Brad Pitt."
»Danny Thom is actually enough for me.«
"Thank you, thank you. So we're not going?"
"I don't know. What else could we do?"
It was at this very moment that modern technology reminded me of itself. It came in the form of my ringing cell phone. Although you couldn't really call those things "ringing" anymore—they made all sorts of sounds, just not a real ring.
»Thom.«
"And here is Thomas."
"Hi! Tell me, where did you get that phone number?"
"Your mother gave it to me when I called your house looking for you. Now tell me how you got her to buy you a cell phone. Or did you pay for it yourself?"
"You'll laugh, she came up with it all by herself. With a little help from Reinhardt."
"Reinhardt seems to be an ideal addition to the family."
"Indeed. So, what can I do for you? Do I have to bail you out of something again?"
"Really, I'm not that bad."
"You allow me to disagree..."
"And if it weren't so, you'd be bored to death! But this time I'm not in trouble. However... however, you could really help me with something. Have you finished your chemistry homework yet?"
"I suspected it."
"Come on, you know I can't do anything with this stuff. Will you help me?"
"When?"
"I was hoping you might come over in an hour. Then we'll get the chemical stuff done, and afterward I'll treat you to a pizza and we'll have a cozy video night. Christine's coming later, too, and we'll have the house to ourselves; my people have gone to visit relatives."
"If I say yes, and I emphasize the 'if'—can Philipp come too?"
"Ah, you're not letting up with that little guy!"
"Hey, I'm just following your own advice."
"Sure, you should. Of course he can come along, no problem. Maybe he knows more about chemistry than both of us combined."
"Okay, schedule us first. If for some reason it doesn't work out, I'll call you. Otherwise, we'll be there in an hour."
"You are my savior, thank you!"
"Yes, yes. As usual. So, see you later. Bye."
With that, I ended the conversation and turned to Philipp.
"Flip, that was Thomas. He's calling for help with his chemistry homework."
"I heard that. I still have to take care of that."
"Would you like to do this with Thomas? Afterwards, we'll have pizza and videos. His girlfriend is coming too."
"Sure, why not. But tell me, aren't there a lot of little sisters buzzing around?"
"The rest of his family has flown away, and there's no danger from that side."
"Well then, that's good, because I'm more in the mood for a quiet evening."
"Have you ever thought about whether and who you want to tell about us? I'm totally at your beck and call, but it would be good to know if you already have a plan."
"Well, so far only our families know, and there doesn't need to be many more for now. But you're specifically asking whether we should tell Thomas, right?"
"I don't want to push you, but he's my best and oldest friend. We don't really have any secrets from each other."
"If we tell him, will he keep it to himself?"
"If we ask him to, definitely. Thomas can take things seriously—you just have to tell him if you expect him to."
"Can we wait and see? I mean, let's go there first and wait and see. If everything goes well and I don't pee my pants from nervousness, I'll give you a sign, okay?"
"Agreed. Like I said, it's your decision. By the way, when I asked him if you could come along, he told me not to let up on you."
"What did he mean by that?"
"Well, he's noticed over the last few days that I'm in love with you, and he's teased me a little about it. But he's also encouraged me not to approach the whole thing with pessimism from the start."
"I guess I'll have to thank him at the end."
"Absolutely not! Then one day he'll tell everyone that it's only thanks to him that we found each other."
"Thanks for the warning, that really doesn't have to happen."
"It was a pleasure. So, if we're supposed to be at Thomas's in an hour, we'll have to get moving. You need to gather your chemistry stuff, then we'll have to stop by my place and pick up mine."
"Okay. Is it far to Thomas's?"
"A little further than from you to me. And all this in snow and ice..."
"Is it possible that you don't like winter?"
"I refuse to testify."
"Pull yourself together, Danny. I love winter."
"Help! Does that mean you're going to keep dragging me out the door?"
"Exactly. There's nothing like exercise in the fresh air, even in winter."
Well, I had found myself a suitable friend!
"Okay, Flip, but only on one condition."
»And what would that be?«
"That you'll come to the sauna with me afterwards."
"Why not? I'll try anything."
This prospect was more encouraging. After a few minutes, we were ready to leave, checked in with Philipp's parents, did the same with my family shortly after, and then, almost exactly an hour later, we were standing at Thomas's door. He, however, made us wait quite a while; I had to ring the bell three times before he finally opened the door.
"There you are!"
"Why already? I said an hour, and a good hour has passed."
"What? Really? I didn't even notice how time passed."
"Fine, fine. How about you clear the door now so we can get in. Otherwise, my brain will freeze for good, and then you'll have to find someone to help you with the chemical stuff."
"Oh, sorry, sure, come in."
We didn't need to be told twice. In the hallway, we took off our shoes, hats, and jackets, then went to Thomas's room. As the only boy among all the girls, he was lucky enough to have his own room, while his sisters had to share.
"I cleared the desk so we have enough space. By the way, it's great you could come along, Philipp."
"I haven't finished my chemistry homework yet, so the suggestion came in handy."
"Okay, then sit down. Before we begin, can I get you anything to drink?"
We agreed on Coke, Thomas disappeared to get the drinks.
"Here, sit down, Flip."
"Uh, before... well, I should... you know. Can you give me a hint as to where this place is?"
"No problem. Get out of the room, turn right, right at the end of the corridor."
"Thanks. I'll be right back."
However, I didn't stay alone in the room for long because Thomas appeared with a tray full of bottles and glasses.
"Here, please take off the individual parts. Where has your beloved Philipp gone?"
"He's inspecting the premises."
"Did you tell him where to find it?"
"Clear."
"I just hope that little guy isn't distracting you too much at work. Can you even think straight with your twisted head?"
"Haha. I'm really not that bad."
"Well, hopefully. And, have you made any progress with him?"
"Sorry, but I'm not going to tell you that."
"Well then, I guess I'll have to form my own opinion."
"Opinion on what?"
Flip had apparently finished his “business” and came back into the room at just the right moment.
"Uh... nothing in particular. So, shall we begin?"
That's exactly what we did, and since I'd already practiced the entire game the day before, we made good progress. Although—to reassure all the teachers among our esteemed readers—I held back and only gave hints, not complete solutions. Only Flip would have gotten those on his own, not Thomas. With all due respect... ;-)
Near the end of the ordeal, the doorbell tore us away from our work.
"That must be Christine. Danny, can you let her in? By the time you get here, we'll probably be done."
"No problem."
I made my way to the front door, grabbed the handle, pushed it down, pulled the door open... and found myself in a wild embrace! A wild embrace from a girl bundled up in winter clothes! Brrrrr!
"Finally! I was about to freeze."
"Uh... sorry... I couldn't have said it any faster. But is it possible you're confusing me with someone?"
"What? Oh shit! Danny, I'm sorry, I actually thought Thomas would open the door. But I guess I was wrong about that treacherous tomato. Can you forgive me again? I hope it wasn't too awful being hugged by a girl."
"I'll survive, luckily you didn't start kissing me."
"I would have noticed it by then, guaranteed."
"Who knows, maybe you wouldn't have wanted anything to do with Thomas afterward. I mean, if I had kissed you, what would you still find attractive about Thomas? By the way, he's still sitting at his desk with Philipp, doing his chemistry homework. That's the only reason I was the one who opened the door for you."
"And for that, I'll be eternally grateful. I've been standing in the cold long enough today."
I took Christine's jacket, put it away in the coat rack, then followed her back to Thomas' room.
"Hey, lazybones, don't you have time to say hello to your girlfriend? Because of you, poor Danny had to endure my blind hug!"
"What? You pounced on Danny?"
"Sure, after all, I had no idea that you would force your visitors to do household chores."
"Danny, I hope you can forgive me. That must have been a truly terrible experience for you."
"I already told Christine I'll survive. But how about you finally make it a point to greet her properly?"
Thomas did this extensively – and as a tolerant person, I generously overlooked this public display of heterosexual aberration. Instead, I looked at Philipp, more or less envious of Christine and Thomas's open manner. Flip looked back a bit nervously, as if two souls were fighting within him.
"That's how I imagined the greeting! So, guys, how are things? Are you finished with your work? And who's that at the desk, anyway? I don't know you."
"This is Philipp, he's been in our class for a few days. Flip, this is my friend Christine."
"Nice to meet you."
"Same to you."
"So, are you finished now?"
"Yes, we can move on to the cozy part of the evening. I suggest we go to the living room, where we have more space and the TV is bigger."
Since we had the whole house to ourselves, this was truly the best solution. Thomas and Christine headed toward the bedroom door—and my devious mind was working overtime.
"You go ahead, Philipp and I are packing up our stuff so we don't have to start all over again later."
"Okay. We'll order the pizza right away. What do you want?"
I looked at Flip.
"Salami for me."
"And I'll take Hawaii."
"Funny, Danny, that doesn't surprise me at all. Okay, come over when you're done."
Did Thomas suspect that I was less concerned with keeping our school things in order than with what we had given up in the presence of Thomas and his girlfriend? In any case, Philipp seemed to be able to follow my train of thought without any problem, because as soon as the door closed behind Thomas, he threw his arms around me, and our lips met. A practice I could easily and happily get used to...
Since we were expected in the living room at some point, we had to keep our conversation a little shorter than either of us would have liked. Reluctantly, we separated much too soon.
"Hey, Danny, I'm sorry."
»Was?«
"For leaving you hanging like that earlier, when the two of them were kissing. I realized you would have loved to do the same to me, and it was an ideal situation, but I just couldn't do it."
"Hey, Flip, don't be sorry. I told you I'd give you all the time you needed—and I meant it."
"Really? You're not mad at me?"
"How could I be angry with those eyes?"
"Thanks."
"No problem. But now we should pack up our things and then join the others."
That's exactly what we did. Everything was packed securely, then we left the room, and I led Flip toward the living room. We were just about to go inside when something stopped me. Call it an inspiration, but I stopped my sweetheart from entering the room. Inside, our host was talking to his girlfriend—loud and clear enough for both of them to hear each other well without noticing us.
"Tell me, Tho-Jo, are they a couple? I think they're a great match!"
"That would be nice. Danny has a huge crush on Philipp, but they're not a couple. Unfortunately."
And then it happened. Taking me completely by surprise, Flip pulled me by the arm into the living room, startling the two people there with our abrupt appearance.
"Yes, they're a couple. Uh, I mean, we're a couple."
I would have expected anything, but not that. I just hoped that Flip had actually come out of his own accord and wasn't just doing it to do me a favor.
In the meantime, the other two had also recovered from their shock, and Thomas was the first to turn to me in disbelief.
"Is that true, Danny?"
As they say, actions speak louder than words. A quick glance at Flip, who nodded at me with a smile. So, in front of Thomas and Christine, we repeated what we had secretly practiced in Thomas's room.
»Wow!«
I had to agree with Thomas wholeheartedly. And the sight of his completely surprised face with his wide-open eyes was a pleasant accompaniment to Philipp's kiss.
"See, Tho-Jo, I told you they'd make a great couple. Female intuition! Congratulations!"
We politely thanked Christine and were amused by Thomas, who was still not completely recovered from his shock.
"How... how long has this been going on? I mean, how long have you been friends? Like, friends in the sense of... well, you know!"
"Since yesterday afternoon, almost exactly 24 hours."
"What? And all this time you haven't been able to tell me?"
"Sorry, Thomas, this is my fault. I asked Danny to keep it to ourselves for a while."
"Why?"
"God, you're so slow today! Flip is still completely secretive, except to his parents and mine—and now to you! He's barely accepted that he's gay, so he doesn't necessarily need an official engagement announcement in the newspaper."
"All right, all right. So it's kind of an honor for us that you've decided to tell us at all."
"Exactly. And it was Philip's decision, so thank him."
"All right. Thanks for confiding in us, Philipp."
"No problem, it seemed like the right decision. But please, keep it to yourself, okay?"
The two of them nodded in agreement, and I could only hope that Thomas could actually keep his mouth shut.
It would be a while before the pizza arrived, so Flip and I took the opportunity to tell the other two exactly how we'd gotten along. When we finished, Thomas couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"That's typical Danny! You never take the direct route. Why take the easy route when you can take the complicated route..."
"Hey, the only thing that matters is the end result. And I'm more than happy with it!"
"And me too!"
"Oh, how sweet. Look at them, Christine, the young couple. How lovingly they stare at each other."
"Leave them alone, Thomas-Johannes! Be happy for them instead."
"I do."
"That's what I'd advise you too, old friend. Or should I tell you how you always lose your eyes when your Christine is mentioned?"
"Don't you dare!"
»That's entirely up to you...«
Luckily, before we could get any more worked up about this, the doorbell rang, and five minutes later we were tucking into the pizzas we had ordered.
"Hey guys, what are we actually going to watch today?"
"I actually picked out 'The Matrix Reloaded' especially for Danny, because of Keanu Reeves. But that doesn't seem necessary anymore..."
We had already seen the film in the cinema a long time ago – but it was something different watching it in a relaxed atmosphere among friends.
"Argh! Can you stop with your teasing?"
"It's okay, sorry!"
"Well, I think 'The Matrix Reloaded' is great. After all, girls can like Keanu too."
"Should I be jealous now?"
"You have to know that."
So, after we'd decided what we'd be doing that evening, we settled into the Kaufer family's living room. Thomas and Christine took over the couch, and I snuggled up with Philipp on the two-seater.
For the next two hours, I tried my best to distribute my attention equally between what was happening on the screen and the extremely cute boy next to me. In this case, "equitable distribution" meant that I spent a whopping 10 percent of the time following the film's plot and the rest of the time focusing on Flip. This didn't bother him at all. And after we realized that Thomas and Christine were also completely preoccupied with themselves, we let go of all inhibitions and became so engrossed in each other that we didn't even notice that the film was long over.
"Hey you two! Stop! The movie ended ten minutes ago!"
I didn't care at all; after all, I had some pretty lonely years to work through.
"What's with the envy, Thomas? As if you were really into the film."
The slightly embarrassed grins on Thomas and Christine's faces showed me that I had hit the nail on the head.
We spent the next hour talking about everything under the sun (well, much less about God than about the world). It turned out that Thomas had chosen a girlfriend who was completely up to date on all topics—what a contrast to so many of his former "beauties," whose best-crafted sentences often consisted of a skillful "Huh?" No wonder Thomas didn't want to take any chances with her! He was probably already suffering from severe sexual withdrawal symptoms—but Christine seemed worth it to him. I couldn't blame him; I felt the same way about Philipp.
Eventually, it was time to leave. It was already quite late, and the previous day had been somewhat tiring. Pleasantly tiring, admittedly, but still. I quickly called home and said I'd take Flip home and then come home.
Thomas had the same idea. Not that he would accompany Flip home, but rather his Christine. Both Christine and Flip said that wasn't necessary – but of course, we wouldn't let them talk us out of it. It would have been even better...
Since we had to go in completely different directions, we said our goodbyes right at the front door. Thomas took the opportunity to give me a few firm taps on the shoulder and leaned conspiratorially toward my left ear.
"Congratulations, buddy. It was about time. Now don't let them rip it off again!"
"I don't intend to, even I'm not that stupid."
»Das will ich dir auch geraten haben. So, also dann, bis demnächst.«
»Tschüß.«
And so we set off through the dark, cold night. It was just after eleven, the streets were almost deserted, and we set a brisk pace. We didn't really feel like talking, as the words would probably have frozen in our mouths. It wasn't long before we were standing in front of Philipp's front door.
"Would you like to come in for a moment?"
"I'd love to, but I really have to go. See you tomorrow?"
"No, unfortunately not. We're invited to a relatives' birthday party in Dresden, so we'll be out all day."
"Injury."
"Yes. But we'll definitely see each other again on Monday."
"Okay. And if I know I'll see you there, then I'll go to school happily and voluntarily. My mother might be surprised..."
"Haha, mine too. But I guess they'll figure out pretty quickly why we're in such a good mood."
"Probably. Okay, I have to go. Flip, that was a wonderful day. Wonderful because I was with you. We should do that again soon. Maybe without Thomas and Christine..."
"You're a real bad guy! But you're right, the day was great. The best in a long time. So, be careful on the way home. Don't let any bad guys catch you."
"They wouldn't stand a chance. After all, I now have someone worth fighting for."
"Schmalz, schmaltz. But I love it. I love you..."
"Same to you."
A quick glance in all directions revealed that the coast was clear, so we could indulge in a long, hearty kiss goodbye. Then, reluctantly, I turned away from my lover's arms and headed home. A short time later, I arrived home to find Mom and Reinhardt in front of the television.
"I'm back."
"Good evening, Casanova. How was it?"
"Sorry, Reinhardt, but the gentleman is enjoying himself and remains silent..."
"Does this mean we should start worrying?"
"No, Mom, we've already been through this. We're not rushing into anything."
To dispel any possible doubts, I sat down with them for a few minutes and told them how the rest of my day had gone. At the end of the story, Reinhardt looked at me with a mock stern look.
"So, video night. Let's check that out right away. Tell me what the movie was about. From the first minute to the last, if you please."
»So, it all started with this...«
"No, no, never mind. We believe you anyway. Right, Maria?"
"I guess we have to."
"Is Tim here yet?"
"Already? Have you looked at the clock? He's been home for a few hours and is probably already in bed."
"With Veronica?"
"Don't give the boy any stupid ideas!"
"I just mean... I don't want to crash into anything."
"No, don't worry, he's all alone."
"Okay, then I'll be off now too. Good night everyone."
After the appropriate answers, I disappeared upstairs. Light was still shining through the keyhole of our room, so I didn't have to make any special effort to be extra quiet so as not to wake Tim. Nevertheless, I knocked briefly before entering.
"Hello little brother."
"Hi Danny! Back from your big love adventure?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about. We were just having a cozy evening, together with Thomas and Christine, by the way."
"Aha. So that's what they call it these days..."
"Kid, hold back. Or should I ask you what you've been doing with Veronika?"
"We were quite tame and peaceful!"
"Whoever believes it..."
"Tell me, have you confessed to Thomas and Christine that you're a couple now?"
»Confession is good...«
So I recounted in detail what had happened in the Kupfer apartment. Tim, for reasons unknown to me, found it all highly amusing and needed a while to calm down.
"Well, I wouldn't have thought your Philipp was capable of that!"
"Me neither, actually, so I was surprised when he just dragged me into the living room and laid everything out in front of them."
"Did that bother you a lot?"
"Disturbed? No, not at all! Like I said, it surprised me. I found it somehow very... how should I say it..."
"Cute?"
"How did you come up with that?"
"Because that's your favorite word when it comes to Philipp."
"Really? Well then, I guess that's how it is. I just hope he didn't do it just for my sake. I don't want him to feel obligated to do something he doesn't really want to do yet."
"He'll have thought about it a lot, don't worry, he seems to have a clever mind."
"He did. After all, he fell in love with me."
"Oh dear, you really don't suffer from an oversized ego!"
"I never said that either."
During this conversation, I had peeled off my warm clothes and was now looking over Tim's shoulder as he sat in front of his computer in his pajamas.
"What are you doing doing something nice? Not surfing dirty websites?"
"No, as if I would ever do that!"
»Well, I'll have to look at your history file later...«
"You won't find anything there. I've been downloading music the whole time. It's crazy what's out there!"
"You're preaching to a convert. I've already filled almost half my hard drive with it. I just never get around to making CDs out of it."
"Is that possible? Can I listen to it normally on my stereo?"
"Sure, no problem."
"You have to show me that sometime. If I can use your burner."
"Of course you can. Now, I'm going to take a shower and then lie down. I've had enough for today."
"Okay, when you're done, I'll stop here too."
"You don't have to, you can carry on, you won't bother me."
"Maybe not, but I'm getting tired too."
A good twenty minutes later, I came out of the bathroom looking like a freshly licked kitten. Tim was just turning off the computer, I was taking care of the heating and the windows, and shortly after, we were in our beds. A quick goodnight, and then I was asleep.

---

On Monday, after a much too short weekend, it was time to get up early again. Some scientist had discovered that school starts way too early; it would be much more convenient if it started at nine. Well, on the one hand, that sounded good; sleeping in a little longer wouldn't hurt. On the other hand, the idea that classes would then extend even further into the afternoon wasn't so great either. That would ruin the entire day! But it was still just talk, and as we all know, it takes years, if not decades, for talk to turn into serious action in Germany. By the time school starts at nine here, I'll probably have finished my studies long ago...
Sunday had been pretty quiet. I missed my newly acquired love, and Tim also had to do without his Veronika – who, of course, was also tied up with the Steins' family commitments. I had used the morning to explain everything to him about CDs and how they were made – and while I was at it, I burned three beautifully mixed samplers for myself. The afternoon then went exactly as I wanted. The four of us piled into the car and headed to the nearby leisure center – to the family sauna. It turned out that Tim and his father were experienced sweaters – only my mother needed a little convincing to give it a try. Luckily for me, the only person missing now was Philipp – and without wishing him any harm, I hoped that he missed me at least a little too.
I'll just skip over everything that happened between getting up and school—it was more or less repeated every day anyway. Don't worry, if something exciting had happened, I would tell you about it. But nothing exciting happened, so let's move on to the chronological sequence.
As usual, our regular clique met in front of the once again locked school door. And finally, the moment had come; I could hug Philipp again! Well, that would have been nice. Of course, I didn't. As much as I wanted to, I held back and greeted him the way I greeted all my other friends. I think no one noticed, especially since Flip himself controlled himself. The conversation revolved around the usual topics: how everyone had spent the weekend, etc., etc. Of course, Philipp and I only released a censored version for publication—and Thomas also managed to keep his mouth shut. By the way, Tim had immediately gone to Veronika and was now chatting with his classmates, standing close to her.
So, while we were chatting and waiting for the school doors to open, I once thought someone had said something to someone as they passed by that sounded like, "Look at those faggots!" – but I wasn't entirely sure if I'd heard it correctly. Probably not; they were probably just talking about a "faggot" – meaning me. Since this wasn't the first time, I immediately shoved the experience to the back of my mind, and by the time we were finally allowed into the heated school building, I'd practically forgotten about it.
Now, the most unpleasant things have a habit of painfully bringing themselves back to mind again and again. In this case, this bringing back to mind consisted of the strange occurrences becoming more and more frequent during breaks as we moved from one room to another. Some just stared, others went so far as to imitate kissing noises. And this time it was clearly directed at both me and Flip! Slowly but surely, we both became more and more nervous – and the worst part was that we couldn't talk about it, since we were constantly surrounded by people who hadn't yet been initiated!
During the break before lunch, we were both so exhausted that it was almost like we were going to explode. We had no idea what was going on—okay, I had an idea, but I couldn't figure out how it was possible. Somehow, someone had to have found out that Flip and I were together—but how? I trusted everyone who had been in on our secret so far, and I couldn't imagine any of them breaking our trust like that. From the look on Thomas's face, I could tell he was just as surprised by the events as we were.
But enlightenment was near, and once again it was Lisa who had tapped into her secret sources of information. She took Flip and me aside and then addressed us in a whisper.
"Tell me, is it true? Are you two lovers now?"
It was time for two bright red faces. We looked at each other, apparently there was nothing left to hide. We couldn't utter any words, we could only nod very slowly.
"So it's actually true. You're the talk of half the school, and by the end of the day, you'll be the talk of the whole school."
"But... but why... I mean... we were absolutely careful!"
"Here, yes, Danny, but elsewhere you weren't paying so much attention. There's talk of a wild make-out session in a department store elevator."
"Shit!"
Although such expressions didn't really suit my Philipp, I couldn't agree more wholeheartedly. Obviously, not only had the young mother witnessed our intimate embrace with lip-locks, but someone else who knew who we were must have seen it, too. And that someone couldn't keep their mouth shut...
"Looks like you know what I'm talking about."
"Yes, unfortunately. Do you have any idea who first spread the word?"
"Not exactly. It must have started somewhere in the ninth grade this morning, and it's been making the rounds ever since."
I looked at Philipp, who was standing in the corner of the room with a very pained expression on his face. Oh yes, I wanted to shout out that he was now my boyfriend! I wanted everyone to know—but not like this. Not in this way that was so frightening for Flip.
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm happy for both of you. But that won't really help you, will it?"
The teacher's arrival relieved us of the need to respond, and in the general commotion, we went to our seats with our heads bowed. The lesson passed agonizingly slowly – and since some had overheard the conversation between Lisa and us, the news now spread to our class as well. The whispering became so loud at the end that the teacher had to forcefully enforce silence. A silence whose expiration date was rapidly approaching as the end of the lesson approached.
And then it happened. The bell rang, the teacher disappeared, and contrary to the usual routine, our classmates remained in the room. A somewhat uncomfortable silence threatened to spread until Jürgen was the one who approached Philipp and me, looking serious.
"That's impossible, guys. I really wouldn't have expected that from you, especially not from you, Danny."
I stared at him with wide eyes and had no idea what he was getting at.
"Why are best friends always the last to hear the good news? Well, I don't want to be like that. Congratulations, may it last!"
And with that, the spell was broken. Suddenly, everyone was talking at once and congratulating us, and a hesitant smile spread across both Philipp's and my face.
Two or three of them ignored us completely and left the room, but as long as they didn't make fun of us, I didn't really care. Little by little, everyone who had congratulated us followed them, until in the end, I was left alone in the room with Philipp.
"Pretty intense, isn't it? Can you handle it, Flip?"
"Do I have a choice? I'll have to deal with it whether I want to or not. Doesn't that bother you at all?"
"Oh yes! But I'm less bothered by the fact that everyone knows, than by how it happened. I would have preferred it to have happened according to our rules, in our time. You know I would never have pressured you."
"I know. And I also know how difficult that would have been for you. I know that because I would have loved to tell everyone myself! But I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Who knows when I would have dared to do it, if ever."
"Yes, Flip, you would have. And I would have waited for you that long."
"Thanks. Well, maybe it's a good thing. Now the decision has been made for us."
"So how do we deal with this now?"
"The best defense is offense. My father always says."
"Now I know where you got your clever little head from..."
"Danny, I know you're worried about how I'm going to handle this. It's really not easy, it's all still so new to me. A few days ago, I wasn't ready to admit to myself that I was gay—and now I have the greatest boyfriend in the world! And you know what? I'm going to get through this with him. Just promise me you won't leave me alone, okay?"
"You can count on it. You won't get rid of me!"
Whether it was the knowledge that nothing mattered anymore, or the relief of my promise, I don't know. In any case, Flip next did what had gotten us into this trouble in the first place. He hugged me, and then our lips met. We didn't have much time for it, but we enjoyed the moment, which gave us both some security and courage again.
"So, now I can survive whatever comes."
"Me too. Shall we go eat?"
"Yes. Somehow, I suddenly have an appetite again."
With these words, Philipp's left hand grabbed his school bag, his right hand my left hand, and then he pulled me through the door into the corridor. I just had time to grab my own bag. In the corridor, we were immediately the target of many pairs of eyes again, and under the gaze of at least a dozen students from all grades, we marched toward the dining hall. Hand in hand. Toward a future we didn't know exactly what it would bring us. But we knew one thing for sure: we would overcome it together...

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Epilogue – A few months later on my 18th birthday
"Danny, look, Ralph and Christoph are sitting up there."
Sure enough, the two had settled down about ten rows in front of us. Since the infamous party at Ralph's sister Katja's, the two had been inseparable and had endured all the adversities of their coming out together. They were the perfect role models for all gay teenagers. Now the two, now sixteen-year-olds, were sitting not far from us in the cinema, waiting for the show to begin.
Tim and I had taken four seats right at the back, in the very last row, and were now waiting for the two remaining people.
"Tell me, Tim, do you think we picked the right movie?"
"Hey, you wanted something where you don't have to pay too much attention and can cuddle nicely. And the ham is really perfect for that."
When he was right, he was right.
"I don't know if it was such a good idea to let them fetch the popcorn. I just hope they get there in time for the movie to start."
I sent a quick prayer to heaven. Leaving the two of them alone always ran the risk of them becoming completely lazy. Anyway, there were still a few minutes to spare.
The last few months had been eventful. Since Tim and his father had hastily moved into the house previously occupied only by my mother and me, all of our lives had been turned upside down. At first, despite the size of the house, we were literally stepping on each other's toes—no wonder, with two extra people constantly milling around. But we got used to it pretty quickly. Just as quickly as Tim had adapted to his new school. Well, performance-wise, there hadn't been any problems to be expected anyway, and with a big brother like me, it was much easier to take the step into the great unknown. It didn't take long, and he had made tons of friends.
Reinhardt became the calming influence of the family. Working from his home office, he became the go-to person for the three of us, and I especially learned to appreciate his constant listening to my problems and little issues. He and my mother were as happy as their first day together, and in six weeks, the wedding bells would finally ring. Afterward, the two of them would jet off on their honeymoon for two weeks, and Tim and I would have the house all to ourselves! Nonstop partying wasn't on the cards, but we would certainly make the most of it! Hehe, boys will be boys.
My mother had been more balanced than ever for months and had even won an architecture award. She was more infatuated with Tim than ever (without putting me down in any way), and the feeling was clearly mutual.
Yours truly? Well, exactly what I feared had happened. Tim's flawless grades were regularly pointed out to me—not really seriously, more teasingly. And in a way, ambition had taken over, with the result that my grade point average had also plummeted to a 1.5.
Over time, Tim and I had become real brothers—oh, nonsense, much more than that. We were the best friends you could imagine. There was nothing one of us couldn't talk about with the other; there were no secrets, never any bad words. Instead, there was some kind of spiritual connection between us, which often meant that one of us would finish the other's unfinished sentence. I couldn't imagine life without him, and how I had managed more than seventeen years without him was beyond me.
Tim was still shy, but not nearly as much as he had been at the beginning of our friendship. And what remained of his shyness only made him all the cuter, more handsome, more interesting. What was completely gone, however—and something we didn't shed a single tear for—was his self-doubt. In the relationship, he had become a completely new person, and whenever the conversation turned to his mother, his usual comment was, "That stupid cow doesn't know what she just threw away." He was right!
Tim had used the previous summer to work on his major project. He had set out to cure me of my fear of water. So, on the local beaches, you'd often see an enthusiastic Tim and a skeptical Danny, and this skepticism was entirely justified given my brother's teaching methods. When my stubbornness got on his nerves, he once even stole my swimming trunks in a sneaky dive (note: never again such baggy swim shorts; in a skin-tight Speedo like the one Tim was wearing, the maneuver wouldn't have been so easy!) and then swam with his conquest not back to the beach, but to a small island in the lake. Now I was faced with the choice of either wading back to the densely populated shore relatively naked, or summoning all my courage and swimming the approximately two hundred meters to the island, through water so deep I could never, ever stand in it. I chose the latter – and even survived. I had truly landed myself a great brother! Although I had to admit that since then, I haven't had such major problems with water, which may be due in part to the fact that he was a good coach and I learned more about swimming from him than even from my demanding biological father. Now I even enjoyed it! Just a little bit, but still. Who would have ever thought that of Danny "Water-Shy" Thom?
Well, that was it, the story of the new beginning. A new beginning for all of us, and one that made all of our lives happier than we ever dared hope. Exactly 12 months ago, it was a simple coincidence, an accident in fact, that set things in motion, and today I was more convinced than ever that fate had somehow played a role. But you know what? That's only one side of the coin. Simply trusting in a benevolent fate isn't enough. You have to take your happiness into your own hands; anyone who just waits for it to fall into their lap will probably remain very lonely for a very long time. Reinhardt and my mother, Tim and I – we had done just that, and were richly rewarded for it.
By the way, aside from the joy of swimming, I'd also picked up a few other things from Tim. For a few weeks now, I'd been calling Reinhardt "Dad." God, he was so happy when I said it for the first time! I'd thought about it for a long time; at first, it almost seemed like a small betrayal of my "real" father. But then I told myself: he had loved me, so he would surely be happy to see that I was able to lead a normal life again without him. He would be happy to see that Mom and I had found someone who loved us just as much as he did before his death. So from now on, we were "Dad." Well, besides, I couldn't really stand back, since Tim had already started calling my mother "Mum" a few weeks earlier. And all of this fit in very well with the fact that on the day of Reinhardt and Maria's wedding, Tim's and my mutual adoption would also become legally effective. Danny Bergner—that didn't sound so bad, did it?
The hustle and bustle at school had gradually died down. Flip and I had become a normal sight; everyone knew we practically never appeared separately. There were a few disagreeable people, of course, but they were in the minority, and we didn't even have to worry about them becoming a real problem. Our friends took care of that. The overall atmosphere was now so good that—as already mentioned—Katja's brother Ralph had also decided to come out to school.
Now they could really start showing up, the lights were about to go out. Ah, there they were at last! Tim and I were each handed a bucket of popcorn, then we were taken to the middle, and just in time, we were all there. The lights went out, the curtain opened, and Tim leaned over and whispered in my ear:
"Have fun, birthday boy."
Then he leaned to the other side, put his left arm around his girlfriend's shoulder and started doing what you do in the back row of a dark cinema.
And me? Well, I leaned to my right, where Flip, the cutest boy on the face of the planet and within a few hundred parsecs, was already eagerly waiting for me to give him the same attention Tim gave his Veronika (of course, they were still together!). And I certainly wouldn't disappoint his expectations! So please excuse me now; I have more important things to do than continue this story. Go out and get a life!

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PS: I can practically hear it. Everyone's asking the same questions. "How can this Philipp dare to do this?" "How dare he steal that cute Danny away from me?"
Well, folks, I'm sorry, but I'm taken now. DANNY IS NO LONGER SOLO!!! If anyone wants to complain about that, they'll have to take it to God. Whatever. Nothing can be changed now. I'm happier than ever and intend to grow very, very old with Philipp. Very slowly, though. This life together, however, is a whole other story. One I'll perhaps tell someday. But not today. Right, quiet now, the commercials are over, the main film is starting. Not that I'll be able to notice much of it... ;-)