23 - Jonah
23
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Jonah
I was still in the library when Martin called me. At first, I ignored it, but he persisted and kept trying, so I finally motioned for Simon to keep an eye on my things and stepped out.
“Hey! Dinner together tonight,” Martin said shortly.
Within seconds, I was gripped by an inner coldness. As much as I had tortured myself over the last few days, it was only at that moment that I realized that it had been ridiculous compared to what I was about to face. Eating together meant sitting at the same table as Lucien. And that scared the crap out of me.
“Uh … what? But I’m still in the library.” This excuse sounded lame even to my ears.
“We won’t be home until half past seven anyway.”
“But I’m studying for my exams here.”
“The library closes at eight anyway.”
“But … why?”
Martin was silent for a moment. “We are roommates,” he said emphatically. “We eat together occasionally. And a break from studying will do you good. We’re having spaghetti.”
This time, he didn’t give me a chance to speak and hung up.
Shit.
For two weeks, I’d managed to avoid running into Lucien. That hadn’t been difficult since he was never home anyway. He would only come back at night, if at all, then took a shower and was gone again the next morning.
I was convinced he hated me. I hadn’t even bothered to apologize to him. My self-loathing was greater than ever. I didn’t deserve to be sitting at the same table as him. But even more important was the question of whether Martin suspected anything.
He couldn’t be making a meal together for no reason.
But then I understood.
Maybe he had already seen through me. The perfect world I try to make everyone believe…
Not only was I a hypocrite, but I was probably also a bad actor. In this sense, a scolding would have been well deserved. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had already informed my parents—about everything.
Holy … I’m going straight to hell! If the evening turns out to be anywhere near as uneventful as I’m hoping, I’ll be lucky.
The time on my cell phone showed it was only six, so I went back inside and sat down behind the books. But my concentration was gone. My thoughts were with Lucien and the images of our night together—although it wasn’t even a full night—flashed before my mind.
Lucien taking off his shirt.
His naked upper body.
How he kissed me, touched me … and in the most outrageous places.
And me … how I was consumed with lust and desire for him.
Startled by my own thoughts, I jumped and slammed my knee on the table. That, in turn, made me jump again and I suppressed a yelp. Fortunately, the pain had relieved the tightness in my pants.
Damn it! What’s wrong with you, Jonah?
Simon glanced up and frowned. A warning “Ssh!” hissed from another table. I pretended nothing had happened and hid behind my laptop. But a few minutes later, my nervousness rose again. I kept bouncing my right leg so that the person sitting next to me at one point exhaled in annoyance, gave me a stern look, and left. I kept glancing at the clock. Time was racing by.
Damn … Martin knows. I’m sure of it. Lucien told him everything. But why? Why would he do that? I know I’ve made a mistake. I would undo it if I could.
The whole time I thought about Lucien and how he beamed at me with his beautiful green eyes. I liked the way he wore his hair—slightly curled and unruly, which was a perfect fit for an artist like him. He had style and was confident, embracing life to the fullest.
Not like me, who was still patronized far too much by my parents. I could have searched for a job a long time ago, but I was too comfortable and let them carry me. Even though I didn’t want to go back. As much as life here in Zurich was upsetting me, God would make sure I found my way. But there was no way I wanted to go back to the farm after my studies.
My thoughts returned to Lucien again. His warm body snuggled up to me while his lips devoured me.
Damn it! Stop it already!
My thoughts were almost driving me mad.
I’m not gay! I’m not into men!
My eyes wandered across the screen to Simon. He was typing with great concentration, then he took the pen and wrote something down in a notebook. Lost in thought, he shifted his jaw back and forth, continuing to type as he referenced the book’s open page beside him.
I noticed his slim body. You could tell he was athletic, even through his sweater. His broad shoulders conveyed strength, while the wide neckline offered a glimpse of his prominent collarbone. I glanced past his pronounced Adam’s apple and admired his handsome face. His brown hair waved slightly and matched the color of his dark brown eyes. I hadn’t noticed how wide his brows were before, but it suited him. Together with his angular cheekbones, they created a balance in his face that gave him a very likable look. His lips were also beautiful. A little narrow, perhaps, but well-shaped.
However, the thought of kissing Simon left me cold. I tried to push my fantasy further and imagine him performing oral sex on me, but I felt no arousal.
There you go. Proof enough. I’m not gay.
I noticed Simon peering at me questioningly, so I put on a sheepish grin, just shook my head, and tried to concentrate on my work again. We continued working like this until my stomach growled around half past seven.
“I’m hungry too,” Simon said and packed up his things. “See you on Sunday?”
Oh … the church.
“Um, I’ll see if I can come,” I replied vaguely. The last few weeks had shown me that it was better not to make any more promises that I might not be able to keep.
We said goodbye at the streetcar stop and I walked home. Anything that delayed my return was fine for the time being, but it was too cold for me to take any more detours.
As I entered the apartment, I heard Martin’s voice. “Yes, everything’s fine … mhm … see you then.”
I placed my bag down and entered the kitchen. Martin was just putting his cell phone away as he moved toward the sink, where there was a large colander full of steaming spaghetti. There were empty plates on the kitchen counter next to it, and Lucien was sitting in his place with his elbows on the table and his forehead resting in his hands. A lit cigarette clung between his fingers and a bottle of beer stood in front of him.
“Hello, Jonah!” Martin greeted me. “You’re just in time.”
“Hello.”
Lucien straightened up. His gaze slid past me to the window and lingered there, staring absently into the darkness.
I couldn’t help but stare at him. He appeared tired and exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes.
Has he lost weight?
“Sit down,” Martin said benevolently and placed a full plate in front of me.
I sat down and wiped my damp hands on my pants. Martin then set a plate down for Lucien and himself and sat next to me. He smiled at me but couldn’t hide how tense he was. When I reached for my fork, he laughed in surprise.
“What, no table prayer?”
Oh no, not good. Please behave normally, Jonah!
“Thank you … for the food.”
“Nonsense! Get on with it!” he said, amused.
After the first bite, I realized how hungry I actually was. Unknowingly, I had subjected myself to food deprivation. At that moment, it felt like I hadn’t tasted anything between my teeth for the past two weeks. I devoured the food without much attention to chewing, blocking out everything around me in the process. For a brief moment, it was just me and the noodles. As I emptied the plate, I exhaled a sigh of relief and glanced around.
Lucien’s plate remained untouched as he continued to gaze out the window with a sense of listlessness. When he took a sip of beer and realized that the bottle was empty, he pushed himself up from the table and got another one from the fridge. It was obvious he hadn’t just had one beer. He could barely stand upright. Visibly happy to have made it through the kitchen, he plopped back into his chair, opened the bottle, and took a sip. As soon as Martin pushed his own empty plate away, Lucien lit a cigarette.
The silence was oppressive.
Has it been like this all along? Or have I been so busy eating to notice?
“Guys, that’s enough. I know you can’t stand each other … for whatever reason …” Martin said, “but what’s so bad about having dinner together?”
Lucien ran his hands over his face, then through his hair. He made no move to say anything.
“It’s all right,” I mumbled.
“Lu, please eat!” Martin said, looking at Lucien’s full plate.
But he simply took a drag on his cigarette, put it out, and stared at Martin with an angry glint in his eyes. I was surprised that I wasn’t the one receiving that furious look, and when I saw the worried expression on Martin’s face, I didn’t understand anything.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me…” Lucien said with a heavy tongue.
Martin remained calm. “I mean well.”
Lucien rose abruptly, but his movement faltered almost instantly. “No!” he said in a trembling voice and leaned on the table. It took him a moment to collect himself. “You could have done that here any damn night. But not today!” He sounded angry but also desperate and sad. He clumsily grabbed the beer bottle and staggered out of the kitchen.
As his bedroom door slammed behind him, Martin sighed. “I’m sorry.”
A stone should have fallen from my heart when I realized this wasn’t about me at all, but it didn’t. “What was that about?”
Martin forced himself to smile sadly and moved Lucien’s plate closer. “Do you want half of it? You seem hungry.”
I didn’t respond. “What was this all about?”
“About an anniversary that is today. He’s never in a good mood.”
“Anniversary? What anniversary?”
“Nothing to do with you,” he replied curtly, scooping half of Lucien’s spaghetti onto my plate.
How can you be so sure?