Chapter 10 #2
He’s still smiling as he pokes his head into my room, even though I left. He’s holding a small tray in both hands. “I brought you breakfast. Two pretzel rolls and a hot chocolate with cream.”
“Hot chocolate is for little kids. Do I look five?”
Almost a little embarrassed, he shrugs. “No matter how shitty my life has been, hot chocolate has always given me a warm feeling in my belly. I thought maybe it would work for you, too. You could use some warmth, you know.”
Why is he saying that? I want to turn away because I don’t want him to see my lower lip trembling.
Philipp carefully sets the tray down in front of me.
The dollop of whipped cream on top of the cup is so big, I have no idea how I’m supposed to drink it without spilling. There’s cocoa powder on top, too.
“Can I sit down?” I know I’m allowed to say no, that was one of the first things Philipp and Adrien made clear.
But it doesn’t feel wrong that he’s here, so I nod.
Without a word, he sits down on the bed.
Right behind me. As if this bed weren’t wide enough for another spot.
His shins brush against my back and I wait, not sure what for, but my nerves are rising.
My heart is beating faster and my hands are getting sweaty, which is my usual reaction when adults touch me.
I have no idea why, just that it’s like that.
Nothing happens.
“Don’t you have to go to school?” Philipp is a middle school teacher.
“Project week. My ninth graders are interning, and my first appointment is at 10:30.” Fuck, I can’t wait that long to eat. Hesitantly, I reach for the half of a roll.
I love pretzel rolls and fancy jellies. We never had those at the group homes. There was always just strawberry jam, sometimes cherry and I don’t like red jam. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He means it, I can hear it in his voice.
I’ve been lied to so many times nobody can fool me anymore.
Silence fills the room while I eat. Never before has anyone endured so much silence with me, and I feel my body relax.
My back touches his legs again, and I flinch in surprise.
I quickly lean forward and pull my shoulders up out of reflex.
“You can lean on me. It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you.
Lou does it all the time.” That’s true. No one in this family has a problem with physical affection.
Louis is twenty, and when he was here last weekend, he had his head resting in Philipp’s lap.
Philipp ran his fingers through his hair, and Louis’s eyes closed. The scene was so peaceful.
Is this what I want? I’m unsure. As always, the all-important question throbs in the back of my mind.
How am I supposed to survive leaving again if I let myself get this close?
But I’m exhausted. The warmth of my room and my full stomach let my body relax.
A rare feeling I can’t fight against, and I fall backwards.
I can’t remember the last time I touched another person consciously, not by accident. Voluntarily, not because someone shoved me somewhere. Warmth flows through my body. Frantically, I reach for my cup, need something to hold on to.
“Mmh.” The satisfied moan escapes so quickly, I have no chance to stop it.
This isn’t cheap cocoa powder with lukewarm milk.
This is melted chocolate, hot milk, marshmallows, and homemade whipped cream.
That was real work. For me. My eyes burn, my shoulders tremble. Please, no. I’m too tired to be strong.
A finger plays with one of my curls and… it’s okay. Slowly, I sip my drink, savoring every mouthful. My eyes grow heavy. I mustn’t fall asleep, I’m not alone, but it’s bright and warm and…
“Did you sleep last night?” I shake my head weakly. “Were you out and about, or were you in the garden shed the whole time?”
“First in the garden, then in the garden shed.” I don’t leave the property at night anymore as I don’t want the police to pick me up. They don’t force me to sleep in my room, and I’m infinitely grateful for that. I don’t want them to get in trouble because of me.
“Would you like a warm sleeping bag for the garden shed? We can also put a small heater in there.” I can’t answer, the lump in my throat is too big, and I can’t swallow it. “I’ll see what I can get, okay?”
My body goes limp. No, I can’t do this. The world around me blurs into a fog. The cup…
When I come back to myself, I’m lying on my carpet. My head rests on a flat pillow in Philipp’s lap. My comforter wrapping around my body, soft and warm. A hand gently massages my scalp. I startle, but Philipp reacts immediately.
“Shh. It’s all right. You’re home, in your room.
I was with you the whole time, nothing happened.
I promise.” My gaze falls on the cuckoo clock above my desk.
Not an old, traditional one, but a modern one in red and orange, with a colorful bird.
Louis and Jannis have one too. Half past twelve. Fuck! In a panic, I scramble up.
“You have to work. Why are you still here? You’re going to be late.”
“I called in sick. You’re more important today. What’s your favorite food? I’ll cook for you.”
“Apple fritters.”
I couldn’t let myself get that close back then. Without looking at Paps again, I jumped up and ran out. Later that afternoon, a message popped up in our group chat. “Dinner at 7 p.m. Apple fritters for Luca.” I wasn’t there.
“To be honest, I have no idea what happened. We were kissing and out of nowhere he jumped up like he’d been bitten by a tarantula and ran off. It was his first kiss.”
My parents know that I’m bisexual. At first, I didn’t dare say anything, which is ridiculous when you have two fathers as parents and two gay older brothers who weren’t disowned.
But I’d been burned before and I was still afraid they’d reject me.
Then Papa saw me making out with a girl and a boy in quick succession, and when I teased my fathers for kissing, he laughed and spilled the beans.
My secret was out, and nothing changed, except I didn’t have to hide anymore.
“Maybe he was a little overwhelmed by the whole situation. When you say ‘first kiss’, do you mean with a man, or at all?”
“At all.” My eyes are closed, and I’m enjoying my father’s strong, gentle hands. No one has ever touched me with the same kindness and care as him.
“Do you know if he’s gay or bi? Maybe that’s the issue, he doesn’t know how to deal with his feelings for a man.” Hmm, that could be it.
“What should I do?”
“Is it important to you to figure out what happened?” I nod, lost in thought.
Obviously, we have to finish this project together, but that’s not the only reason.
I don’t want to miss the chance to let my fingers dance over Noah’s freckles again, to feel my lips on his.
Over and over. Seems like I want repeats after all. Who would have thought…