by Ute Jackle
“Why did you kiss me?” I asked, barely audible, and looked at that handsome face that captivated me. I wanted to pull him into my arms, kiss him for real, and melt under his touch. It was hard to fight the impulse, hoping he didn’t notice my desire, although everything inside of me screamed for him. Ben had to be blind.
“No reason.” He gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear while I was struggling to catch my breath. “You… You’re just so pure and untainted. So innocent.” There was a wistfulness in his voice.
My trembling stopped abruptly. What was he talking about? It was almost as if he imagined me as an immaculate virgin. He sounded distantly sentimental, which did not match his chosen lifestyle at all. His behavior made him seem older than he was—almost as if he was looking back on a long lifetime of debauchery and immorality.
“I’ll be pure once I’ve taken a shower,” I quipped to break the weird mood, whereupon Ben almost laughed in relief.
“Don’t let me stop you.” He gestured towards the bathroom then walked on to the kitchen. Why did he actively seek me out only to brush me off again? I’d been asking myself the same question for weeks and simply couldn’t come up with an answer.
39
That afternoon, I returned to the apartment, exhausted. My early start was slowly taking its toll on me, and my body craved a nap. Then I spotted Ben and burst out laughing. He was sitting in the kitchen flicking through a sports magazine while Phyllis stood next to him on a chair, styling his hair. Thin strands of hair stuck up in all directions, held together by bright pink hair bands. When I came closer to check out her work, Ben noticed me and looked up. The front of his hair was parted to the side and held in place with two unicorn hair clips.
“You should wear pink more often.” I chuckled as I sat down. “That color really suits you.”
“Luca,” cheered Phyllis. “Do you like Ben’s hair?”
“It looks terrific.” I gave her two thumbs up. “Ben should always wear his hair like that.”
“Go ahead and make fun,” he said. “She wanted to give me a haircut at first. I opted for the lesser of the two evils.”
“Ben won’t let me.” Phyllis pouted. “I’ve watched Mommy cut hair. I know how to do it.”
“Oh,” I pretended to sympathize. “And he still won’t let you?”
“No,” Ben insisted. “I still won’t let her.”
“But why not?” Phyllis stomped her little foot, at which Ben reached to the chair next to him and pulled out a Barbie doll with chopped off hair. “That’s why. I don’t want to end up like her.”
Phyllis tilted her head and stuck out her bottom lip. “Please?”
“Phyllis.” He measured her with a stern look. “Forget about it.”
Grumbling, she fixed another pink hair clip behind his ear. An oversized purple stuffed unicorn with a glittery mane took up the entire middle of the table. I picked it up to admire it from all sides. “This is beautiful. Is it new?”
“Rhashmi gave it to me,” Phyllis explained. “She came to see Daddy yesterday and told me she likes unicorns just as much as I do.”
I smiled to myself. “What do you think of Rhashmi?”
“She’s nice.” She vigorously combed out Ben’s hair while he quietly groaned. “But not as nice as you are.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” I replied, touched.
“Alright, that’s enough for now.” Ben pulled a band out of his hair, but Phyllis clung to his hand.
“What are you doing? Stop it, you’ll wreck your hairstyle.”
“I have to take you to Grandma’s in a few minutes, and I’m certainly not going out looking like this.”
“But then it was all for nothing,” Phyllis whined and frowned again.
“I’m not going out in public with my hair like this. The deal was just for inside.”
“But your hair is so beautiful now.” With her little hand, she stroked his head in admiration.
“I can imagine,” he grumbled.
“You know what, Phyllis?” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “I’ll snap a picture of Ben, and he can print it out for you.”
“Yay,” the little girl cheered, while Ben glared at me murderously. Unfazed, I held up my phone.
“Smile, for the camera. Say Ouistiti.”
Ben laughed “Ouis… What?”
And there I made a shot. “Ouistiti. That’s French for ‘tiny monkey.’ It makes the greatest photo smiles,” I explained, looking at the snapshot of Ben. Without a doubt, he looked funny, but he was still really attractive—nothing could make him look bad.
“Tiny monkey, huh,” Ben repeated, tickling Phyllis until she giggled. “That suits you!”
I showed him my phone, and his smile froze.
“Phyllis,” he gasped in horror. “What have you done to my hair? I look like your unicorn.”
“I think you look cute,” I said, while Phyllis gurgled at the picture.
“I’m going to take this to kindergarten and show it to all my friends.”
“Don’t you dare,” Ben warned her. “Delete it.” He tried to snatch my phone, but I was faster.
“No way.”
“You guys are ganging up against me.” Ben started to pull out the bands, while Phyllis screeched in protest. Then he got up. “I’m taking you home now before you cook up any more nonsense.”
Phyllis packed up her things and grabbed the unicorn. “I tried so hard.”
Meanwhile, I laid with my head on the table and laughed.
“You know what?” Ben suddenly said to his little visitor. “Next time, you can make up Luca. You’ve got a little makeup kit at home, bring it along.”
“Oh, yeah!” Phyllis agreed. “I’ll draw a unicorn on Luca’s face.”
My laughter died. “You’ll regret that.” I hoped Ben would miss the one band that was still stuck in the side of his hair.
He grinned. “She draws great unicorns.”
Phyllis hugged me. “See you soon,” she said, but it sounded like a threat. I could see Ben smirking next to me. He would definitely pay for this viciousness.
Ben went to the mirror in the hallway to check on his hair. Unfortunately, he found the band he had missed and pulled it out. He held it up between his thumb and forefinger. “Not so fast, I noticed you staring at it. You really would have let me go out like that?”
I nodded.
Phyllis had already opened the door and skipped outside. “Wait up,” Ben called after her.
Still giggling, I went back to the kitchen counter where a pile of letters was stacked and flipped through them to see if there was anything for me. One of the boys must have brought the mail up earlier. But before that, I took one last look at the snapshot of Ben on my phone. At his aquiline nose and strong jaw, and I found his very tiny dimple.
I blew a stolen kiss onto the screen, then lost in thought, turned back to the envelopes. There was a loyalty voucher from a clothing store I’d last shopped at two years ago, a letter from my dentist, which looked a lot like the bill for my last cleaning, and then there was a letter simply addressed to Luca Vogt in blue ink. No stamp, so it must have been delivered in person. What was that all about? I stuck a finger in the side flap and ripped the envelope open. My hands started shaking, and I stared at the message as if petrified. I sank into a chair and repeatedly skimmed the one sentence.
Watch out, you stupid, horny slut!
Suddenly, I was chilled to the bone. I pressed my hand over my mouth, unable to take my eyes off the sheet of paper shaking in the other. Konstantin. Who else would write me such a horrible thing? So, he had merely kept his distance over the past few days, but he hadn’t forgotten about me. Somehow, he had figured out where I lived. What was I supposed to do now?
I grabbed my phone and called Caro, but only got her voicemail. Dammit. Abruptly, I jumped up and took a look out of the window, suddenly paranoid that I was being watched, even though I didn’t spot anything suspicious anywhere. My eyes welled up with tears. I
needed to calm down—breathe in and out. What could he possibly do to me? Konstantin couldn’t do anything worse to me than what he had already done. Again, I realized that nothing had ended or been forgotten just because I had run away from it and tried to erase it from my mind. This nightmare would haunt me for the rest of my life. Konstantin had sworn something to me, and he was not a man who broke his promise. He was making me pay for one single, drunken mistake.
40
Caro, Martha, and I strolled through the dark streets of Nuremberg to attend the LGBTQ gala. At first sight, things seemed to be okay again between the two of them; they even held hands, although Caro still hadn’t worked up the courage to introduce Martha to her parents yet. I had asked Ben for a lift to Nuremberg—and he did me the favor. Not only without asking questions, but he had even offered to pick me up again. I didn’t tell him about the anonymous letter. It probably would’ve only led to an awkward conversation and wouldn’t have done any good. If Konstantin denied having sent the letter, there was nothing Ben could do about it; assuming he’d have actually wanted to deal with my mess. I didn’t want to bother him.
“Konstantin came by the gym again this week.” Caro interrupted my thoughts, and I stopped in my tracks.
“Why?” My guts twisted up.
“He had to fix something.” She turned around, only now realizing I’d stopped walking. “He says hi.”
“You spoke to him?” My voice broke. What was that slimeball up to?
“I told him I didn’t know you,” she reassured me. “You were taking a trial class, and I haven’t seen you since. That’s all he knows.”
“I’m pretty sure he wrote that letter.”
“Luca, go to the police.” Caro let go of Martha to give me a hug.
Suddenly, I was freezing.
“Why don’t you kick him in the balls?” Martha suggested pragmatically, stuffing both fists into the pockets of her baggy cargo jeans. “If I were you, I’d grab him and slam him up against a wall…”
“Great idea,” Caro interrupted in an annoyed voice. “Luca can’t just slam this guy against a wall, he’s bigger and much stronger than her.”
“I can’t go to the police,” I whispered. “If he found out…”
“They’d lock him up.” Caro grabbed me by the arms, but I pulled free.
“They won’t, though. I have no evidence against him. At most, they’d question him and let him go again. And that would only piss him off even more.” I crossed my arms and started walking. “Let’s not talk about that creep anymore. I’m just gonna ignore him and do nothing until he gets bored with his lousy game. I won’t let him ruin my life all over again.”
The two of them caught up to me, and Caro put an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s start now and just forget about that creep. We won’t let him spoil our evening.”
“Exactly,” I agreed, absolutely determined to have a good time at the gala. Martha slapped Caro’s butt with her flat hand.
“I hope that goes for both of us too.”
“What do you mean?” Caro asked.
“No drama tonight just because I’m talking to another woman.”
“Why do you always make me look like a jealous cow?” Caro put her hands on her hips. “It’s not that you can’t talk to other people. How many times do I have to tell you that? It’s about flirting, and there’s a big difference.”
“You always get the wrong idea right away.”
“Yeah, right,” Caro snorted. “Then why did you post on Sarah’s Facebook how much you were looking forward to seeing her tonight?”
“What, are you spying on me or something?”
“No, it showed up on my feed. In case you forgot, I’m also Facebook friends with Sarah.” Caro marched off. “Those days might be numbered, though,” she threw back over her shoulder.
Martha and I followed her. You could have cut the tension with a knife. Well, this was gonna be a fun night. Fortunately, we could already hear voices and laughter, mixed with booming music ahead of us.
* * *
The place was packed. People were dancing. Extremely stylish boys rubbed up against their male dance partners, and the women were also dancing together with the beat; there was a great vibe. And mixed in between were heavily made-up transvestites in big wigs and fancy costumes like vibrant birds of paradise. Many of them had some very enviable bodies. Many of the women had short haircuts and wore baggy jeans with button-down shirts like Martha, and then there were women with long hair and sexy clothes like Caro. It was a colorful mixture of all types of people, all celebrating and having a good time.
“Let’s get a drink” Martha yelled in my ear, leaving behind a high-pitched ringing noise. Then she repeated it to Caro, who just shrugged, but eventually started to move. I followed them to the densely-crowded bar. Martha bulldozed her way through the masses and set her arms on the marble slab surface. A red-haired woman sitting close by raised her glass in a toast at Martha, clearly trying to catch her eye. That was cheeky. Martha casually put one arm around Caro while she whispered something into the other woman’s ear. My poor friend seemed like nothing more than an accessory.
“Luca,” a high-pitched voice screeched, and I turned around. Michelle, formerly Michael, stood behind me in an absolutely breathtaking red dress. Her blonde hair flowed in corkscrew curls down to her waist, and her makeup surpassed anything I had ever seen before, even Ellen’s. Michelle had the sexiest smoky eyes I’d ever seen. I knew Michelle through Caro; they were really good friends.
“You look amazing!” I yelled through the noise as I wrapped my arms around her. Squealing, we danced around in a circle. Martha tapped her finger against her temple.
“Sweetie!” Michelle held me at arm’s length. “You need a makeover! Pronto! Look at you!” She put a hand to her cheek. “No, that doesn’t work at all.”
“Thanks,” I said with an eye roll, which made her realize how unflattering she just had been.
“But I looove your green top.” She pinched my left boob and made a honking sound. “Oh, what I’d give to have real ones like yours. You’re one lucky girl.”
I didn’t think so, but I took it as a compliment. As it was, I hadn’t heard too much flattery lately. Except for a couple of times when Ben said something equally stupid about my bustline. I wondered what he was doing tonight. I forgot to ask earlier. Was he on the prowl again? Scanning women like a piece of meat at the supermarket? What were his criteria? Breasts, vagina, and noticeable breathing? I hadn’t been able to figure out a consistent pattern between his previous bed bunnies. They were all across the spectrum: redheads, blondes, brunettes. A drop of jealousy landed on my burning heart like gasoline and made it flare up. He hadn’t brought home any coitus consorts for a while now, and it seemed like he wasn’t interested in resuming the hunt for the foreseeable future. Had he sworn off women for a while? I found that hard to imagine. Maybe he was just taking a creative break. Hopefully, he wasn’t nursing an STD! I wouldn’t put anything past him. Perhaps I shouldn’t think about him so much tonight.
Caro and Martha joined us. Martha handed me a glass of bubbly, while Michelle greeted Caro much the same way as she had me. They hopped together like mad in one place. The foxy redhead from the bar joined us too, which seemed to piss off Caro. She whispered something to Michelle before they both turned toward the redhead and shot her nasty looks.
“What does Caro even want with this ugly butch dyke?” Michelle murmured in my ear, not exactly flattering. “Why don’t you two get together? You’d make such a cute couple.”
“Because I’m not a lesbian.”
“Have you ever tried it?” She played with her fake breasts.
“No, and I have no desire to either.”
She waved this off. “Oh, you straight people are always so uptight.”
In the meantime, Caro had grabbed Martha and hugged her so tightly the poor thing could barely breathe. Without a doubt, Caro was marking her territory.
Miche
lle smacked a handsome blond guy’s butt. He turned around, annoyed.
“Hands off!” he snapped and hurried away.
“What’s the rush?” Michelle shouted after him. “I won’t bite! Only if you want me to!”
The blond disappeared into the crowd without giving Michelle a second glance.
“He’s into me,” she announced with conviction. “He’s just playing hard to get. I’m gonna go test it out.” Swinging her hips, she swept through the crowd. Her heels were at least six inches high, which made her tower over almost everyone else. I couldn’t have taken even one step in such shoes, but she had mastered the hip swing as perfectly as a Victoria’s Secret model. Somehow, I envied Michelle for her unwavering self-confidence. One-tenth of that would have made me happy.
The music picked up speed. Up on the stage, a group of well-built guys dressed in black leather were stripping along to the cheering enthusiasm of the crowd, which fortunately, distracted me from Ben. I enjoyed the show; these guys were definitely eye candy. I was completely immersed in the performance when, with a sexy move, one of the guys ripped his pants off and stood there only in a tiny thong. The audience shrieked, and the redhead spoke to me.
“Hi, I’m Jessica.” She smiled. Her face was dappled with countless freckles, wild curls framed her face.
“Luca.”
“Enjoying the view?” She pointed towards the stage.
“Yeah, they’re really good.”
“Oh.” She seemed to understand. “Then you’re just here to support the cause.”
“Actually, to have fun and enjoy myself.” I emptied my prosecco glass in one go. It was hot as hell in here.
“Would you like another one?” Jessica took my glass and hurried off to the bar, before I could answer. I looked around for Martha and Caro, but couldn’t find them anywhere. I could only hope that Martha wasn’t going to break Caro’s heart again. Shortly afterwards, Jessica returned with a fresh glass of bubbly for me.