“Where?”
“To my place.”
“No, I can’t. I appreciate your offer, but... don’t worry about me. No one has ever worried about me before, and I’ve always gotten by.”
“Do you want to sleep out here, or do you want to come with me, we’ll order pizza and you can sleep on my sofa?”
He sighs in defeat. My guess is he’s never gotten anything for free before. “Okay, but just for one night.”
We’ll see about that. I rather think I’ve found a roommate.
I can do this, without David.
Chapter 25
David
23 years
It’s Christmas, I’m at home. Nothing in this house reminds me of Louis, and yet everything hurts. I know why I come home only once a year. No more birthdays, no other holidays, just Christmas. Two nights.
I’m lying in my room staring at the poster on the wall. Louis and I saw the movie together, and because I couldn’t stop talking about it, he gave me the print with a frame and everything.
We sat in the back row, and the movie had already been running for a few weeks. The theater was almost empty. That’show we always went to the movies. Everyone was already talking about the latest blockbusters, but we preferred to go to the smaller movies because they offered us a bit of freedom outside of Louis’s house. A few unobserved and tender moments in public.
For Louis, it felt like normality, for me it was rebellion and I loved it. I loved him. I still love him. I... shake my head to break out of the recurring carousel of thoughts and look for a new place in my room that I can stare at safely.
My gaze lingers on my wardrobe. Getting clothes out should be harmless and not big deal, right? Wrong, doing so was a big mistake. And now it’s even worse, since I know exactly what’s inside. My old handball jerseys, the fabric soft and supple. The T-shirt that Louis brought me from his school trip to Paris.
Of course he took French as an advanced course; he would’ve been pretty stupid not to. I wouldn’t have taken physics either if I’d had an alternative. It’s crazy how quickly Louis learned French and, above all, how well. But it’s probably easier when you hear it every day in everyday life. I had five years of French lessons at school and can barely communicate.
Maybe I should upgrade my language skills a bit, then I could... well, what could I do? Whispering sweet declarations of love in French in his ear? Are there dirty jokes in French? Maybe I can find something online. I could send it to him. By email or text message—he blocked me on WhatsApp though.
Or did I block him so I wouldn’t send him any nonsense? As a precaution? Maybe I should have asked my sister to remove all the memorabilia from my room. Pack them in a box, sealing it tightly and putting it in the basement.
But I didn’t, so I get up and pull my old jersey out of the closet. Torture at its finest, I’d really wish to know what kindof kink I’m indulging in right now.
It smells like me, of course it does, but when I hold it to my cheek, it doesn’t feel like my jersey. I’m back, laying with my head on Louis’s chest, sinking into his warmth, waiting for him to wrap his arms around me. Fuck, I can’t do this.
I get up and grab a thick sweater from the closet, I need to get out of here, out of the room, out of the house. I start walking without a destination. It’s cold and after a short while I regret not bringing gloves, but I don’t turn around. Keep going. Just don’t go home again. Home, which doesn’t feel like home.
Church bells are ringing somewhere nearby. A glance at my watch tells me it’s 4 p.m., probably the children’s service is just beginning. My head is filled with images of little kids staring spellbound at the nativity play and singing the Christmas carols on the sheets lying at the entrance for their parents loudly and out of tune.
I wonder whether I should sneak into the church. We used to come here at Christmas, not because we were particularly religious—God was the last reason my mother would’ve set foot in this building. It was about being seen. Where would we’ve ended up if people had been talking just because the Strasser’s hadn’t been seen at the service? I didn’t understand it back then, but today my mother’s superficiality just makes me sick. I look down at myself and decide against going in. Sweatpants. Apart from the fact that I’m already cold, it’s not really appropriate.
My feet carry me on. I don’t really pay attention to where I’m walking. Once, a car honks at me because I cross the street without looking.
I startle as the surroundings seem frighteningly familiar.Lifting my head I see three mighty fir trees towering above a high white privacy fence. Fuck. Maybe another sixty feet and there’s a door and a large gate right next to it. You can only guess what’s behind these trees. I used to love being here.
Louis probably arrived yesterday, or even the day before. He’s probably sitting in there with Philipp, Adrien and Jannis right now, or they’re preparing dinner together in the kitchen. I bet that Louis’s grandparents are here too, laughing and having fun. The kitchen probably looks like a pigsty, but no one cares. It’s all about being together and enjoying the moment.
I let my head fall against the fence. Damn, I miss him. Nothing has changed, even three and a half years later. A lump forms in my throat, my lower lip trembles and the first drop falls on my forehead. Confused, I look up, just barely recognizing the deep black cloud above me in the twilight, as the next thick drops mercilessly patter on my face. Then the heavens open.
Oh well, at least no one can see me crying. I’ll be dripping wet, but hey. Details. At least I won’t have to explain to anyone why my face is.
I can’t bring myself to leave. Something is keeping me here, rooting me to the ground and every time I try to take two steps away, it squeezes my heart so tightly I’m gasping for air.
By now, I’m soaked to the skin, my sweatpants are sticking to my legs, and there’s water in my shoes. My jacket stopped working about thirty minutes ago. Yep, that’s how long I’ve been standing here. Or rather sitting on one of the large granite blocks in front of the privacy fence. Three neighbors have already asked me if I need help, and one offered me an umbrella.
