Hello everyone. This is part 4 of "the learning years" Sorry, no sex yet, next week, ok? Oh, and please excuse the spelling errors, words crashed this morning, no time to fix it.
http://www.geocities.com/willie_hewes williehewes@yahoo.com
Part 4
On Saturday I went home with his smell still in my nose and his phone-number in my pocket. That was all, for now. At home, everything had miraculously stayed the same. I felt like I had been gone for a year rather than a week. Had I changed that much? My parents never noticed though.
Wait, I think I have forgot to tell you where I live. Our town is 45 minutes from Leiden by bus. Hillegom is one of a great many small towns in the west of Holland that have all grown together like a kind of Suburban Cancer. Our grandfathers earned their living by growing tulips, hyacinths and daffodils, generations of school-children spend their early summer days cleaning bulbs in badly-lit sheds. Our house is in the Stations-straat (yes, we have a station-st. and no station), across the street is a block of houses in New Uglyness style, an archetectural crime of a very fashionable type. Our house is older, not too big, I live here with both my parents and my 15 year-old sister. My parent's bedroom is on the ground floor, my sister and I have our own rooms upstairs. It's not a bad home. It's certainly a lot cheaper than a room in Leiden would be, if I could even get one. My parents are allright, as parents go; my mother's a bit over-protective, my father's a tad insensitive, and more than a tad inflexible. My sister is four years younger than me, but more streetwise, so to say. She's a real master in stretching and evading my parents's rules. If they knew half of what I know of her... It goes without saying that they know nothing of my being gay, or of Charlie.
Perhaps I should tell you a little more abut my sister Cyrill, she's an important person for me. She follows highschool on a lower level than I did, but when it comes to "emotional intelligence", I guess she got the lionshare. I love to hear her talk about all her friends and relations; it's my own little real-life soap. Here then, as an illustration:
It was that Sunday-evening that she came barging into my room. I had just finished showering and hurried to put a little more clothes on. (My little sister doesn't have to know I've got weird, knobbly knees.) She leaned against the doorpost looking rather smug, and asked: "So who's Charlie?"
You must realise, she took me by surprise. i can play it straight as good as the next one, if I have time to prepare. She wasn't supposed to know anything about Charlie. I pulled her into the room and closed the door behind her. "What do you know about Charlie?" I demanded in a whisper.
"What should I know?" she parried.
"He's just a bloke I met in the ELCID-week," I said, regaining my self-control.
"Oh!" she said cheerfully, "he must like you, then."
"Why?" How the hell do you know?
"Since he called you already." Ok, so I forgot I gave him my number. Stupid. Well, whatever she suspected, she didi't say anything about it at that moment. She just said that he wanted me to call him back. She did follow me downstairs, so she could follow my side of the conversation.
"Charlie."
"Hiya, Eduard here."
"Hey Ed, that's fast. What did you dash right out of the shower, naked and dripping wet?"
"Uh, no."
"Bummer. Better luck next time."
"Uh, yeah."
"'Uh, yeah' What are your parent there with you or something?"
"Yeah, actually, they are. So, why did you call me?"
"Just to tell you how hot I think you are," he said in the lowest bass he could manage, "Ooooh, Eddy, you drive me crazy. Ahhgn, I'm at the brink of cumming just from hearing your voice! Oh, Eddy!"
I couldn't help giggling, and turned crimson. "Stop it!" I hissed. Ciryll looked up.
"Do you have a hard-on?" Charlie asked in his normal voice.
"Aren't you a little too old to be playing phone games?"
"Well, do you?"
"Charlie..."
"I'll stop teasing you, if you just tell me --"
"I..."
"--Come on, just say yes or no--"
"Charlie, I'm gonna..."
"--Do you have a hard-on! C'mon, yes or --"
"YES!" Charlie burst out in laughter. I turned even redder, and now even my dad looked up. Great.
"Charlie, this is not very funny!"
Still chuckling, he said, "Ok, it's about the bike. Bart wants to know where you parked it."
Ciryll would not leave me alone. She followed me back to my room.
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"What?!?" I was shocked. Surely it wasn't that obvious.
"I'm just asking. Did you think I didn't know?" Yes, actually. I did. "Come on, just look around this place," She pointed at a poster on the wall. "That should be the playboy-centerfold. Not Jonny Depp."
"But, but..." I stammered.
"And what about your obsession with Brad Pitt, hm?"
"I am not obsessed with Brad Pitt!"
"You went out of your head when he suddenly popped up in 'Growing Pains'!"
"Well so did you!"
"I'M A GIRL!!"
I sighed. "Ok, allright, keep your voice down. So how long have you known?" My voice faltered. I suddenly felt very little, and exposed...
"I wasn't sure until today. But I've had my suspicions for a whole lot longer... But that doesn't matter. Tell me about Charlie. I wanna know how you met him." She sat down on my bed, and made herself comfortable, ready to probe me for all the juicy details. For a while, I said nothing. I had to adapt to the situation. So my sister knew, and she didn't mind. Actually, this was a good thing. I now had someone to talk to about all this...
"There's a kind of gay-bar in Leiden. I went there Thursday. He was there too."
"You like him, don't you?"
"Yeah..."
"Is he handsome?"
"Kinda. He's got blonde hair that hangs into his eyes. He's smart. He has this really cool, Matrix-like coat, all the way to his ankles. He's not very tall, I'm taller. And he lives together with three others that are all like, two metres tall, so they make him look really small..."
"You've been to his house?"
"Yes, on Friday..."
"Wooooow!" she roared. "So, it's really serious then?"
"Well, no, I mean, I like him, yes. And he says he likes me..."
"Cool. So, when are you going to tell mom and dad?" I froze. "You'll have to!" she insited. I shook my head. Not yet.
"I'll tell em if you don't!" she threatened.
"Then I'll tell em that you smoke."
"Oh, big deal," she sneered, "I bet they know already!"
"I wasn't talking about your cigarettes," I said calmly. Inside, I felt like screaming, I knew I was being cruel, but I also knew I would do ANYTHING to keep my secret right now. "Think about it," I said, walked around the room pretending to talk to our mother, "Mom, I'm worried about Ciryll. I heared she and her friends go to Happy Days in Lisse, you know, the coffeeshop...?" Ciryll opened her mouth wide in indignation and wagged her finger at me. We stared at each other for a moment.
"Ok," she said finally, "So we're even. I'll cover for you, and you'll cover up for me." I nodded. "Thanks for keeping that a secret, by the way. I had no idea that you knew... I mean, it was only once, but they'd explode..." I smiled.
"Hey, you're my little sister! I wouldn't rat on you."
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