Chapter 5
Jannis
Fuck, I’m late. Dayyan and I have fallen into a daily routine as if it were the most natural thing in the world. After school, I go to the schoolyard, where he’s already waiting for me.
It’s still chaos in my head. I’d hoped so badly everything would sort itself out somehow.
That the strange feeling in my stomach would go away.
Dayyan and I are friends. Just friends, nothing more, nothing less.
He’s nice. And he has beautiful eyes. As dark as melted dark chocolate.
He’s not my type though. Too dark, too short.
Right? His smile is cute, with two little dimples.
With a decisive no, I push the thoughts aside and look up at the sky. “It’s nothing, Danny. I promise. I miss you.”
Almost twenty minutes late and pretty out of breath, I arrive at the schoolyard. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Our German teacher wanted to talk about something.”
And there it is again, that easy smile that lifts the corners of my mouth without my permission.
“It’s okay.” Then his expression turns serious. “Was today stressful for you? I don’t want you to feel obligated to come here every day.”
Confused, I furrow my eyebrows. “What? No. It was hectic, I didn’t want to keep you waiting. But it’s fine.”
“We don’t have to meet up every day, you know.”
Why is he saying this? I thought everything was good between us, that he enjoyed spending time with me. I want to say something, but words won’t come.
“Hey.” Does he notice something’s wrong?
He wouldn’t get up if not. And he wouldn’t put his hand on my upper arm.
Right? “I look forward to seeing you every single day, but honestly, what is in it for you? You’re from here, I’m sure you have enough other friends you’d like to meet up with, and I’m stealing all your time. ”
Shit. How do I get out of this without looking like a freak?
Because no, I don’t have any other friends.
I don’t have anyone I can meet up with who wants to spend time with me.
When I’m not with my family, I’m alone. Even when I’m out with Luca and his friends, I’m just the extra tagalong because nobody talks to me.
Even though they all know I can understand them perfectly well, I just don’t speak.
I don’t know why nobody wants to be around me, but I know that it really hurts and it’s fucking lonely.
Believe me, I know loneliness, I hardly left the house for the first six years of my life.
Being alone among people is painful on another level though.
When you watch others having fun together, but you’ll never be part of said fun.
I’m a social being too, but no one seems to know that.
My family is my exception, as was Danny. And Dayyan is, too, but he has no idea what he’s getting himself into with me. I shake my head silently.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not stealing my time. Everything’s cool.” Everything’s cool except for me. My heart is racing. I don’t want to be alone again.
A cautious smile lights up Dayyan’s face. “Okay, let’s go then. Madame here is impatient today.”
He looks at the husky sitting attentively in front of him with so much love in his eyes, and I melt a little bit.
I like that Dayyan is so genuine, that he doesn’t need to put on an act.
He is completely himself. Something not many people our age can claim.
Danny always put on a show at school and sometimes even when we were alone.
But maybe that’s normal at fifteen. Though. .. Luca wasn’t like that.
“What’s wrong? You’re so quiet today.” I want to laugh out loud, because no, I’m not quiet, I’m so much louder with Dayyan than with anyone else. Even today. “Louder than with Danny.” A hand grabs my heart and squeezes it tight, so tight it hurts. “No!” I scream back silently. “No.”
“Are you not comfortable with me? Would you rather go home?” I hate to ask this question, but anxiety is rising inside me. Fear that this little bubble outside my family will suddenly burst. That I’ll have to go back, that this is over, that I’m too complicated after all.
“What? Oh God, no, no way! Every time I leave home, I’m scared you won’t come. But I want you to enjoy being here as much as I do.” I feel his gaze on my temple. He wants to look me in the eyes, he’s waiting for an answer, but I can’t do that. Not right now.
My gaze remains fixed on the ground in front of my feet, my mouth silent, my tongue paralyzed and I hate myself for it. But after a while, the constricting feeling subsides and then the special silence between us is back.
Silence used to make me feel pressured, it just amplified to me that I’m not like the others, that something is wrong with me. With Dayyan, it’s not like that and after what feels like an eternity, words come back. “I like being with you.”
Dayyan turns his head in my direction again, and this time I turn mine toward him. A hundred thousand questions seem to float in his eyes, but he doesn’t ask any of them. He stays on safe territory. “What’s your favorite subject in school?”
“Phew...” I have to think hard, it’s not that easy to decide.
He looks at me with wide, sparkling eyes. “Are you serious? You have to think about it? There’s only one answer to that question, and it comes immediately, without any active brain involvement. Anything else is highly questionable.”
The laughter bursts out of me so quickly I don’t even have a chance to hold it back. “Are you saying I’m a nerd?”
Honestly, being a nerd is easy when you don’t have the classic distractions of chatting during class and meeting friends instead of studying.
“Prove me wrong.”
I shake my head and laugh.
“Okay, I’ll start. My favorite subject is sports though I’m not very good at it, and I hate French. I have no idea why I didn’t drop it. It’s a disaster. I’m so incredibly bad at it.”
“French is my favorite,” I confess, almost whispering, and Dayyan’s facial features completely fall apart.
“Why?”
“My father is from France, from Paris.”
“Ah, so you grew up bilingual! I’d find French easy too then. My parents tried that with Arabic.”
Oh, I’m really sorry to shatter his illusion. “I came to live with my fathers when I was six, and that’s when I started learning French. I don’t think that fits the definition of bilingual, does it?”
Dayyan’s mind is racing, his mouth opens several times, but nothing comes out for a long time. “And where were you before?”
Okay, I didn’t expect that question. My bad, I should know by now that Dayyan always asks the questions I don’t expect. “With my mother.”
“And why did you have to leave? You don’t have to answer if it’s too private.”
“She was shooting up heroin that was cut with something. Probably fentanyl. I thought she was asleep. She slept a lot.”
“You were there?” Dayyan stares at me in disbelief and shock.
“Where else would I’ve been? I wasn’t in kindergarten or anything. We definitely didn’t have the money for that, and my mother wasn’t interested enough in me to apply for any subsidies. But enough about me. You speak Arabic?”