Chapter 3
Jannis
What the hell am I doing here?
I made it almost two weeks without going back to the schoolyard. Every time Luca asked me to come with him, I shook my head, and after a few days he stopped asking.
Thirty minutes ago, I decided, fuck it, I can do this without my brother. For the last twenty-five minutes, I’ve been wondering how I came up with this absolutely shitty idea. I can’t do anything on my own. But... I want to see Dayyan again. I think. I do, right?
Since Danny died, I haven’t spoken to anyone except my fathers and my brothers.
Not a single word. Until Danny came along, I had only spoken to four people in my life.
With his death, I lost the only person outside my family I could talk with.
For four months, I got to experience what it felt like when someone who doesn’t share your last name cares about you.
Listens to you, even when you can’t say more than a few words.
My mother was never sober enough to notice I wasn’t speaking with her.
Or maybe she just didn’t care. After her death, no one really wondered why I wasn’t speaking.
Words like “severely traumatized” and “selective mutism” were thrown around.
The school was satisfied with the corresponding diagnoses.
I don’t know why I talked to Dayyan. It just came out so easily. It was easier to talk to him than with Danny. My heart aches. No. That’s not right. No one is like Danny; no one will ever be like Danny.
Their names are so similar, but they are so different.
Danny was tall and athletic. A jock. With blond hair like me, but sky-blue eyes.
He was the sun. All the girls were crazy about him and he played along, but when we were alone, there was never any doubt he wanted me.
Dayyan is the moon. Dark and mysterious, but his glow is so much stronger and more meaningful in the darkness of my night.
I’ve only seen him once and he already takes up so much space. What’s happening to me?
Guilt about Danny wants to settle in my stomach, but at the same time, the thought of meeting Dayyan in the schoolyard drives me crazy and makes me tingly.
The idea of talking to him again is exciting and scary at the same time. I want to hear his voice as he talks to me. And my voice when I talk back to him.
What if he doesn’t come? Maybe he already walked his dog today?
“Hello.” His voice startles me, but only for a second. The next moment, my stomach fills with warmth and I feel so light.
“Hey.” Again, the word comes out effortlessly, again, I hear my voice, and the smile on Dayyan’s face takes away my last bit of nervousness. So simple.
“You’re back. I thought I’d scared you off somehow and you wouldn’t come back because of me.” I haven’t been here for two weeks because of him, but that’s going to be my secret, so I just shrug awkwardly. “Thanks again for the tip. Flocke loves it in the vines.”
“Is Flocke your dog?” Obviously she is, stupid question. I could slap myself.
“Yes, you can pet her if you want. She loves to cuddle. Running, playing, and cuddling – those are her favorite things.”
I cautiously reach out and a wet dog snout taps me. Then everything happens very quickly and I have a big fluffy dog head in my lap. Dayyan laughs. “She likes you!”
“She doesn’t know me yet, that’s all.”
His grin only gets wider. “Believe me, Flocke has excellent people skills.”
He’s so relaxed. Talking together feels so natural, so normal. No one talks to me at school, unless they absolutely have to. But let’s be honest, when do they ever? Conversations never go beyond “Jannis, you do the PowerPoint.”
I can communicate with my device, and when we have guests at home, that’s what I always do.
It works perfectly well. My classmates just don’t want to put in the effort.
Dayyan doesn’t know that I usually don’t speak, and for the first time in my life, I’m completely normal, which is a pretty cool feeling.
“Have you been to the dragon meadow with her yet?”
“No, I don’t know where that is. I’m still a bit lost around here.” He shrugs sheepishly and my heart beats a little faster.
“If you have time, we could go together. Only if you want to, of course. You can say no.”
“Definitely! I’d love to!”
We walk slowly down the street, neither of us saying anything, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable or oppressive.
“That’s where we live.” Dayyan points to a large, old house, and now I realize why it has been a construction site for the past few months.
“Did your parents buy the house?”
“Yes, and renovated it. It’s not quite finished yet, but it’s livable. We have a lot more space here than in the apartment in Frankfurt, so that’s cool. And Flocke can go out in the garden. Do you live around here too? Silly question. Probably, right? Or you wouldn’t come to the schoolyard.”
“Our house is on the way, I can show you if you want.” Dayyan’s eyes light up and I’m so glad I went to the schoolyard today.
“That’s the dragon meadow over there, and this is where I live.” I point to the large gate on the right.
“Oh, wow. That’s crazy. It’s almost like a mansion.
” He stares open-mouthed at the privacy fence that has surrounded my home for as long as I can remember.
I can relate to his first impression though.
Even though I’ve gotten used to the size of our house, when I first drove up the driveway at the age of six, I felt like Cinderella driving up to the castle.
Everything was so beautiful and so clean.
And there was always electricity and hot water and heating. It was crazy.
“But there are five of us living here.” I try to justify my living situation, even though I know it’s not really necessary. No child is responsible for the circumstances they grow up in, good or bad.
“There are five of us too. Do you have more siblings?”
“Yes, I have an older brother, but he’s going to University in Karlsruhe and is only home on weekends here and there.”
“Is he adopted too?”
I nod quickly. “Yes, we all are. We’re quite a patchwork family. But it works.”
And there it is again, that gentle smile that reaches Dayyan’s eyes and makes my heart skip a beat.
I don’t want my heart to skip a beat, but I can’t help it, and if I’m willing to admit it, it feels good.
“This is basically the dog area. You can let Flocke off the leash here.”
As soon as the leash clicks, the husky is gone. “Damn, she’s fast.”
“Oh yes, she is. I couldn't let her run if I didn’t know she would listen 100%. She would be off in a flash. Sometimes it’s a bit difficult with her hunting instinct, but usually it’s fine. Rather atypical for huskies.” All it takes is a shrill whistle and Flocke is back at his feet.
Dayyan pulls a small slingshot ball out of his pocket and the dog wags her tail. She knows exactly what’s going to happen, so I’m not surprised she dashes off as soon as the ball is in the air.
“Would you like to try?”
I nod, and then we stand here, in the middle of the meadow, throwing a small ball, betting on who can throw higher, faster, farther, and I want to laugh, but the impulse alone constricts my throat.
I haven’t laughed like this in so long, not with anyone outside my family, and then there it is, completely out of the blue, the guilty conscience, because.
.. It’s not okay. Not with anyone else. Or is it?