Butafter a short time, I can sit back and relax. The game is good, Louis’s team is dominating, but none of it is magic, it’s all hard work. After the final whistle, I make my way down to the court, watch Lou and the others celebrating, and wonder if I miss that.
I miss him, being with him. As soon as he sees me, he breaks away from his team.
“Good game! Congratulations!”
Louis is sweaty and beaming from ear to ear, and damn, he looks so good. Neither of us really knows how to interact with each other. I’d like to hug him, in a friendly way, of course, but I don’t dare. We just stare at each other.
“Shall we go get something to eat? I’m starving.” Louis looks at me hopefully. At least, that’s how I interpret his gaze.
“Want anything in particular?”
“Surprise me. I’ll take a quick shower.” He grins and winks at me, then turns and walks away.
We decide on a pizza place in the East Town, small but delicious and just around the corner from Louis’s place.
“Okay, fill me in. You know a lot about handball. Are you a fan or do you play yourself?” He grins at me cheekily and challengingly.
“I play myself, but not at such a high level as you. Not anymore.”
“Why not?” He knows why, doesn’t he? He can guess.
“That’s not so easy to answer. I’d have to go back a bit...”
“I have time.” My downfall.
“I... um... I played on a team with my ex-boyfriend and...” I pause, unable to decide whether I want to look at him or not. I curse our game, but at the same time, it gives me the chance to speak freely. “I’ll never find anyone else who understands me so instinctively.”
Louis’s breath catches and his voice breaks as he replies. Just a moment ago, it was loud around us, but now I can only hear and see him. “Maybe it’s worth giving it another try? We could definitely use a strong center.”
I never told him I play center. For the first time since our new start, he mixes our timelines with hope for something new and not dripping with pain from the past. I want to brush that one wild strand of hair from his forehead, want to kiss his temple, want to—but I can’t. Not yet and not here.
“Maybe. How long have you been playing handball?”
A sad smile flits across Louis’s beautiful face, as always when this topic comes up. “I started when I was six. It was important to my mother that I play a team sport, and soccer wasn’t my thing at all. I can still remember how excited I was after my first practice. Mama was so proud. She came to every game.”
Why did I ask that question? I knew what story was coming. Maybe I thought it wouldn’t be quite as hard to hear the second time around. I was wrong.
“Was?” The question is inevitable; we both know that.
“My mother died when I was eight. My father was drunk again. Something happened and he beat her with an iron bar. I wanted to help her, but I was knocked unconscious immediately. He refused to say anything afterwards, so we still don’t know why he had an iron bar in the apartment. As far as I know, he’s in prison. The only good thing about him was that he signed the adoption papers.”
It still sends a chill down my spine. Louis speaks softly, but his voice is firm. Admirable.
“And what happened next?”
“I woke up in the hospital with no idea what had happened, and a social worker from child protective services brought me up to date. At that point, she couldn’t tell mewhat would happen with me next. Emergency shelter or foster family, they were still looking into the options. I was so scared. Those were the worst twenty-four hours of my life.” Lost in thought, but with a relaxed smile on his lips, he shakes his head. “The next morning, Papa and Paps stood in the doorway.”
“You have two fathers?”
“Yes, for sixteen years now.”
“Was it weird for you at first, living with two men?”
I’ve never asked that question before, never dared to. But it’s a question that’s been on my mind ever since I knew I was gay. “I mean, it’s not the traditional family model you had before.”
“If the traditional family model comes with a permanently drunk and violent father and a mother in a constant state of panic, then I’ll gladly do without. My mother tried everything to give me as much love and security as possible, but my biological father was a ticking time bomb. With Papa and Paps, I experienced what it means to fall asleep and wake up without fear for the first time in my life. We had to get to know each other and grow together, but no, it was never weird for me. It was difficult without my mother, yes. She was the only person I ever trusted, and suddenly she was gone. I had to build that trust with Papa and Paps first.”
I swallow hard. Trust. That someone can manage to open up again after such an experience, to bond with new people. We trusted each other too, and I broke his trust.
