I clutched the sheet around my hips and felt my breathing quicken. Of course, it didn't matter if she saw us, but it was awkward. I didn't want to get to know her roommates like this. Between door and door. Naked.
"Was it good?" came the surprising question. Sienna was caught off guard and opened her eyes. Her roommate laughed and then chuckled: "It's fine, I'll leave you to it. But tell me later what it was like."
"He's my boyfriend, that's a bit weird," Sienna then remarked.
I still wasn't quite sure if everyone was aware of my presence in the room or not. I paused, my heart pounding, my breath caught in my throat. "Oh nonsense, then it's all the more interesting, you have to share some thoughts, please. Where else is a woman supposed to learn how good sex can be?" Sienna didn't answer, just looked skeptically at the door where the bright voice came from. "But I don't want my sex life to be a book of advice," Sienna then said and sat up, taking care to wrap the thin comforter around her so that her slender body was just barely covered with all the important zones. Not that anyone would have minded, I was sure. Just to cover up some of the awkwardness that was in the air between all three of us.
"Well, we certainly won't learn anything from books and porn," her roommate said resignedly, but slowly closed the door. "See you later, sweetie," she said, and the door was closed.
Sienna and I exhaled at the same time. "My goodness, I haven't been this aware of my nakedness for a long time," I chuckled quietly and quickly gathered my things. Sneaking out of Sienna's apartment wasn't that difficult, as her roommate had jumped straight into the shower and, according to Sienna, "would really take forever, no kidding".
The walk to my parents' house wasn't too far, no more than another 10 minutes. As I walked along the gravel-covered path to the door, still lined with dried up lavender bushes, I looked at the lawn, which no longer looked quite so green and which Mom had probably given up watering. Otherwise, everything looked the same. As if I had taken myself out as a puzzle piece, placed it somewhere else and now added it back in. Still fitting, still a picture, still me. But well, did I really expect to change much in two weeks?
I snorted at my own youthful naivety and rang the bell. Only a few seconds later, the door was opened, and I looked into the blue-green eyes of my father that were slightly hidden behind black-framed glasses. They created a nice contrast to his white-blonde hair that I had also inherited. He smiled a little bit, but it didn't seem quite so genuine. “Elias, how nice of you to come visit us. Come in”, he squeezed my shoulder a tiny bit, he was never a man of much physical affection. There was a time when I was a kid when I was trying to get more physical and emotional affection from my dad, which left me feeling frustrated and at a loss. It wasn't that my dad was cold or anything, he just didn't show his feelings so much, which always hurt me a little as his son. Sometimes I even wondered if he knew how to interpret his own emotions. But since I knew him to be a very intelligent man, I assumed that he was simply not interested in a lively exchange of feelings. “Hi Dad, good to see you. Its nice to be home again.” He nodded slightly and scanned me from head to toe. I raised both hands. “Still the same old Elias. School life hasn’t changed me much.” “Well, it has only been two weeks, so the jury is still out.” And sometimes I wondered if my dad joked at some points or not. I had given up giving him an awkward laugh from time to time, not knowing if it was even welcome. Therefore, if my dad wanted more from my side, he would need to take the first step. Childish? Maybe. But in the end of the day, I was the kid. And he was the parent. “My cute boy, finally you’re here”, my mom said then when she came out of the dining room. She spread out both arms and gave me a sign that I should come to her. She still smelled the same – like warm lavender and a summer day. I couldn’t explain why it had to be warm lavender, but somehow it made a slight difference to cold lavender scent.
“Why didn’t you call? You promised”, she said with a little reproach in her voice. “Sorry” I mumbled in her curly hair that was all over my face.
I ended the hug and smiled at her. “What’s on for dinner? I missed your cooking so much.”
In the background, my mom always put some music, usually something calm like piano music to create a light atmosphere. Today, she also put it on, mixed with some violin tones. So, I knew, she wanted it to be something special.
“So how was your first time in school? Did you meet anyone yet? Did you have your first class?” I nodded, unable to answer with my mouth full with mashed potato. The kind, that only my mom could make right, with onions and loads of garlic. I made a mental note not to visit Sienna for a few days.
"It was good, I got to know my roommate Dennis. He's funny, he's studying social sciences, but mainly to annoy his parents. He's a real computer genius - at least that's what I've heard. So that's what he wants to do too." While my mother seemed genuinely interested, my father just carried on eating, either avoiding eye contact so as not to have to react to my words, or simply being very invested in his food.
“That sounds good. And how are your professors, do you like them? And your courses?” My mom never seemed to be out of questions. She could really pull that off with any topic. A game changer for big family festivities when I wanted to get out of a boring conversation and my mom was just at arm-length-reach.
“I actually just met one professor so far, but he is nice. He is quite young, but he knows his stuff. And his classes are not too boring. Statistics is burning me up though”, I said. My dad grunted and kept on chewing, “I also had to go through that, you will survive.” I tightened my mouth. "Yes, but at least you chose to study business. It's not really the first choice for me. There are a lot of things out there that are really interesting." He raised both eyebrows.
“A deal is a deal. You are a grown man, your word now means something.” I rolled my eyes, but in such a way that he couldn't see it. I respected my dad, I really did. And I knew that he didn’t want to control my life or tease me – or at least I hoped. I was his only son, so he kind of hoped that I would take a role in his company when I graduated. It was actually a cool company - he sold sportswear for the winter. We used to go skiing when I was younger, but that was a long time ago. Later, we picked up swimming together. Or at least halfway. He continued to expand his company, and the coolness of selling sportswear as a passion wore off and became more and more of a business, now an entire chain.
“Aaaaaand you’re swimming?”, my mom asked as she stabbed her steak with her fork and began to cut it. I nodded and looked at her with a smile. “Yes, I even met the captain in the first night. He’s really chill and I am on the team now. The school’s team, they will have competitions and all that.” My mom smiled brightly. “That’s amazing, honey. See, you are already connecting well with people there. I hope that you’re also enjoying yourself. I know you can get quite intense with your life, but you can take the pace out of it every now and then.” I pointed my eyes to dad. “Try telling him that.” He sighed but didn’t comment. Most of our dinners were like that. And lunches. And breakfasts. One of us was trying to indirectly say something to annoy the other one, and the other one either reacted which was a more intense discussion or would only show signs of disapproval and stay silent. And my mom, my wonderful mom, would always try to make the situation comfortable for everyone, which sometimes led to an even more awkward atmosphere.
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“And how is Sienna doing, is she well? She is living with roommates, isn’t she? How is that?” My mom was unstoppable, her energy level sometimes even rose over that of a 6-year-old child. “She’s fine, I even met her roommate.” I tried not to blush – but failed. I was just glad that my parents didn’t seem to notice it. “Her courses haven’t started yet so she has time to get adjusted. I think her parents have also already visited her and brought her some stuff.” “Oh, we could do the same, you just wouldn’t let us”, my mom protested, pointing the fork at me judgingly. “Come on, Mom, I don’t even have enough room. I also have a roommate that I share valuable space with, remember?” She pressed her lips together and kept cutting her steak.
“No, you mentioned him, Dennis. Dennis the computer guy”, my dad said sarcastically. His tone was provocative, and I didn’t know if I should answer as if to defend myself or just ignore without putting myself out there. Unfortunately, I chose the first. “What do you mean by that, dad? He is very nice.” He shrugged and narrowed his eyes a bit. “Yes, but do not forget that I am paying for that dorm and that – how did you say it? – valuable space. You might as well could have stayed home and take the car every morning. Schools not too far. Then I would have saved money, and you would have had more “space”.” I shrugged as well and imitated his tone from before. “A deal is a deal.”
He scoffed and continued eating. My mom sighed. “Come on, guys. Let’s have a good dinner. I still have to get used to having less noise in the house, honey. I kinda miss it. I even miss the dirty spots you always left from your boots.” She laughed quietly. I smiled at her. “I miss you too, Mom. But I think this is good for me. I am growing, I am responsible for my own laundry, don’t take that away from me”, I grimaced as if I was desperate, she could just do it. She laughed again and we continued talking about school and then her friend Susan, who just got a new boyfriend. I missed those talks about other people, in which mainly my mom would talk, and I would give a “hm” every now and then to show that I was (half-)listening.
“And you know, Susan has a son, right? I think I remember him being your age. Timothy, was it?” “Noah”, I corrected her. “Hm, not even close. Well, anyways, she finally got to see him again, he is on leave for a few weeks, and she wouldn’t stop talking about it. I mean, I totally get that it’s hard not to see your son for so long, but he’s all she talks about”, she said, adding: "I mean, now I'll hardly see my son either." I just finished my potatoes and said with my mouth full: “Come on, Mom. It must be hard having a son in the military. I mean, they almost never have any holidays, right?” “Leave”, corrected my father, and looked at me frowning. “Please, do not talk with an open mouth, Elias. We do not want to see the inside of it.” I closed it. “It’s nice to feel like a child again when I’m coming home.” They both ignored my comment and my mother continued: “Well, yes, you’re right, it must be hard. But other parents would not talk so much about their children. I mean, I love Susan, I really do. But sometimes it’s just too much. I mean, Siennas parents didn’t talk so much about their son, when he was in the army.” She continued talking about Susan and I broke away from the conversation for a moment. My father looked at me and there was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was very faint and gone a second after I noticed it. But I saw it. Was it concern?
“Oliver, that was his name”, my mom said, pleased that she had remembered his name. "I could have told you that," I said, poking around in the rest of my sauce with my fork. "But you didn't," said my mother, pinching her lips together. “How is Sienna with him, are they sometimes in touch? It must be tough having a brother working in another country. I mean, they probably only see each other twice a year during holidays, right?" I let my fork fall onto my plate. “Mom, that’s not really our business, is it?” She looked at me, irritated by my sudden outburst. “After all, she's your girlfriend," she added, slightly offended. “They don't have that much contact anymore, they've kind of grown apart over the last few years," I said, hoping to finish the topic with that. But no, not with Mom “I still don’t get why you all became so indifferent to each other. I mean you were best friends for years, it’s just a bit strange. But I feel sorry for Sienna, I hope that she’s alright.” I sighed loudly. “Mom, please. It’s really their business how they do it.” My mom finally let it drop and continued talking about Susan. I didn’t listen anymore, and I didn’t see the plate in front of me anymore with the food that I was still poking around in.
Oliver. A name that I barely heard from people around me, occasionally from Sienna, but most of the times we would quickly drop the topic. A name that I also barely thought about, but every time it would cross my mind, it would cling to it more intensely that I would like to. I fiddled with the collar of my shirt. My memories of childhood friendships were not my favorite topic to talk or think about. There was a time, when he, Sienna and I had been close. We would do stuff together every day of the week. Since we hadn't lived far from each other, it had been easy to take the bike, cycle quickly to each other's place and then run into the woods, sit by the river and drink children's beer. Oliver and I sometimes ganged up on Sienna, gently pushing her into the little river or running away from her so we didn't have to show her our self-built and definitely not safe tree house.
My eyes flicked to the wall behind my mother's head, as if I expected to see a framed photo that didn't exist. I knew there was a photo, a photo of three children with nothing on their minds but thinking up the next annoying prank. That photo still existed, in my closet in an old shoebox - right behind many, many books that I definitely hadn't read. Over the years, I often thought about calling him, texting him or even writing him a letter the old-fashioned way. But every time I was on the verge of making up my mind and plucking up the courage to pick up the phone or pen, something inside me held me back. It was like a small sting, like a bee flying in my stomach angrily.
I wouldn’t know what to say to him. What did you say to someone that you haven’t heard from or seen in years? Someone that had just vanished suddenly one day after years of friendship.The kind of friendship where you know the other person better than yourself. For a while after he left all those years ago, I felt insulted because he never once said anything, never once tried to contact me. I mean, we lived in the year 2024. Even an Instagram friend request could have shown interest or respect for a shared childhood. But after there was nothing, not one word, I began to realise that maybe that was it. Maybe that was how people grew apart, and it taught me as a hard lesson: that there is nothing really that you could do to prevent it.
It would just happen, it obviously happened to a lot of people – seeing that in many countries, even divorce rates are almost 50% - and those were people that once probably loved each other very much. But even though I told myself it was a fact and a part of life and growing up and all that, there was always this tiny pain that lingered and to this day I couldn't figure out, why I felt that this was not all there was to it. Of course, I missed him, I missed our friendship, how close we were and the times we had together. But I also knew, that even if we would see each other again now, it wouldn’t be the same at all. The feeling of knowing someone so much can turn into a feeling of knowing nothing about that person in an eyeblink. And that was one of the scariest things that could happen between people.
“Elias, you okay?” My mom put her warm small hand onto mine and I winced a bit. “Uhm, yes, sorry I was just lost in thought.” Her faced changed, expressing concern. “Oh, you must be so tired. First days somewhere new are always so intense. All those new people, names, classes, and all that. Maybe you should sleep here tonight? I mean, its Saturday. You don’t have classes tomorrow.”
I shook my head. “Thanks Mom, but I don’t want it to become a habit. I want to get used to sleeping at the dorm. Also, I wanted to watch a movie with Dennis tonight.” She nodded in understanding and smiled. “I think that’s also a good idea. But please, let me ask Victor to come.”
Our family’s driver, or rather old friend who liked to drive around for a bit of money since he retired, was already at the door ten minutes later. I hugged my mum, nodded to my dad – which he returned, and which I interpreted as a good sign – and then it was Victor and too many thoughts that accompanied me back to my new home.