The Truth Untold

53

This week, we found out that Tyler was apparently too drugged when Leo and he clashed. Milan had sent him a little reluctantly to the campus doctor, as Jessie told me. I hadn't seen Tyler for the rest of the week. Milan had been the only one who had met him by chance on Friday and he told us that Tyler seemed to look pretty bad. Leo had only reacted to this news with a tense jaw clench. His wounds had healed well but were still clearly visible. The bruises had already turned green and a thick crust had formed on his wounds. We didn't talk about Tyler, with mutual consent. After we drove home on Monday, the mood between us was still a little tense, but fortunately that had subsided with time. Nevertheless, the events did not go out of my head. Tyler was an ass and with time I liked him less and less. But he had changed a lot in the last few months and I wondered why. In former times he had been an asshole. He had been kidding girls, liked to get into a fight and threw insults around like a scared toddler. But he was always loyal to his friends and they had been able to count on him. Apart from his cheating in our relationship, he had never done anything that had caused such a serious conflict. And now he was fighting with Leo, his supposed best friend. No matter what it was, I couldn't understand him. And to be honest, I didn't want to see him as part of that group anymore. The others were also confused and angry about his behavior and had obviously kept their distance. It was his own fault. Tyler didn't have to let it get this far.

Apart from these events, this week had been like any other. Except that I had a dream every night from Monday to Sunday. And it was the same every time. Every time I woke up bathed in sweat, although it wasn't a nightmare. Every time I could clearly remember the dream, even the smells. The dream began every night with me sitting in the car. I was driving down a street lined with street lights and it was raining cats and dogs. At a red traffic light I had to stop and a movement in the corner of my eye directed my attention outside. To my right was a brightly lit bus stop and a person sitting on the bench. This silhouette looked familiar to me, but I couldn't recognize the person properly because of the veil of rain that stuck to my window. I was the only car on this road, so I got out and walked around the car to the bus stop. It was covered by advertising posters already full of scribbles, the green paint was already peeling off from the roof, countless drops of water were stuck to the glass walls, washing away the dirt, and under the roof spiders were cavorting, weaving their nets sheltered from the rain. The boy sitting in front of me on the outdated bench wore a dark black hoodie, black sweatpants and sneakers. His hair, which now looked even blacker, was sticking to his forehead from the rain, and from the tips of his hair perfectly formed drops fell to the ground every now and then. The eyes were black and seemed dull and powerless. I don't know why, but I knew they were otherwise so full of energy and zest for action. I remember a narrow, snubbed nose and plump, soft lips, high cheekbones and a prominent jawline. But I couldn't remember his face when I woke up, what it looked like in the end. It remained a secret for me. But I knew one thing. It wasn't Leo. The boy in my dreams was much smaller, but just as muscular. The whole time he had stared lost and absent into the darkness in front of him, until I came and pushed myself into his field of vision. Then he always lifted his head and looked at me. In his eyes, which had previously been empty and gloomy, I now recognized a small glow.  But he didn't look happy to see me. Then I was suddenly in an apartment that I did not know and yet I knew that it was mine. The lights were turned off everywhere and the moon shining through the windows was the only source of light. I was standing in a doorway leading to a living room. I could never remember every detail, but that wasn't important either. In the middle of the room stood a sofa and on the sofa lay the boy from the bus stop. He wore his sweatpants again, but this time with a white T-shirt and not the sweater. Despite the change of location and clothes I knew that there were only a few hours between the two scenes. The boy stared thoughtfully out at the moon, which bathed him in cold, white light. He had bent one leg, stretched out the other, and put one arm behind his head as a support, while the other lay on his stomach. He looked like an angel, beautiful as he lay there so peacefully and quietly. And again I couldn't see his face, although there was nothing there to hide it from me. The planks squeaked under my bare feet as I took a step forward and he looked at me. This intense look from these eyes, which now radiated with vivacity and energy, triggered an alternating bath of feelings in me, which overwhelmed me so much each time that I woke up bathed in sweat. I could not explain the dreams to myself. They frightened me. Nevertheless they were beautiful and every night I looked forward to seeing this beautiful boy again, whose face always remained hidden from me. But then they just stopped, all of a sudden and I never saw this boy again in my dreams.

I told Leo nothing about these dreams. Between the boy and me something physical never happened and yet it felt like I was cheating in my dreams on Leo. The days passed quickly and Jessies belly became bigger and rounder. The baby even kicked and whenever it did, Jess called me excitedly to her so I could feel her belly. Once it had even had hiccups and I had never experienced anything sweeter. Milan and Jess were happy. His parents were all over the place and unfortunately the exact opposite of Jessie's family. It was hard for her family to accept this pregnancy, but she overplayed it every time and when I talked to her she always said that she was fine. The two already knew the sex, but they made a big secret about it. I'm not sure how this happened, but with the weeks passing I spent much more time in Leo's apartment than in my own. And Milan spent more time in ours. I couldn't explain how this change came. In any case, I had already put half of my things at Leo's and it didn't bother him. And neither did I. The rehearsals for my performance went well, the steps were almost perfect. Always after I had practiced with my people, Leo came and we practiced my solo dance to Get It. At some point Leo had started to record me dancing, sometimes with the camera, sometimes with the mobile phone. I often asked him what that was all about, but he only gave me inaccurate and evasive answers. The memory of the camera I had found in his apartment was now full and I had already bought a new memory card. The day of my performance came closer and closer and I practiced until I dropped until the footsteps were perfect. Leo showed understanding for my lack of time and I was grateful to him. And then the said day had finally come. In the morning I didn't want to get out of bed because of stage fright. But Leo had literally shoved me off the bed so that I finally got up. I didn't blame him. He had been right. The whole day I couldn't eat anything with excitement and I practiced the dance steps until Leo explained that we had to go. He was a great help to me and tried to calm me down all the time so that I could relax. As sweet as his attempts were, they didn't really work. And then I stood in front of this huge crowd and ... it all worked smoothly. None of us made mistakes and under trembling applause we finished the choreography. The adrenaline had gone into my ears and I had never felt this kind of euphoria before. It was overwhelming. In the evening we celebrated our success with champagne at our favourite dinner and everything was perfect. And then came my birthday.