Escape Route 2/?
Author: stargeek101
Beta: tardis_child (unbetaed for this chapter. For the moment anyway.)
Overall Rating: pg13 with fluctuations
Summary: Geir Zahl struggles through his faith and sexuality as he tries to make it through his final year at an all boys school in Bergen.
Pairing: Geir/Janove
Feedback: Makes me dance like Helge listening to Psycho Under Min Hatt
Overall Warnings: Language, sexual themes, violence, alcohol/drug abuse, suicide attempt
Disclaimers: Geir, Jan, Janove, Christer and Terje are the only ones whose whole names are used (I don't own them) but most of the OCs are named after various Norwegian and Swedish peeps. Sneaky me is sneaky. I do not own the music mentioned throughout the story. The title is from Frightened Rabbit's song of the same name (don't own that either ;)) The Master and Margarita is Mikhail Bulgakov's story, not my own. You should read it. It's awesome.
Notes: This hasn't been betaed since Matty's busy with her new job and I'm busy looking for a new job, so I haven't really pestered her like I maybe should have XD I'm all moved in though, and Casper's bouncing around me as I write this for you now. Crazy bunny, he is.
“Who’s this?” Niklas asks, looking at the small girl in Geir’s arms and sitting in the cold sand.
“Malin. She’s my tennis partner. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all.” He winks at Geir, glancing back and forth between the both of them. “You two together or something?” His Swedish accent begins to make an appearance as he's obviously downed a couple drinks.
Geir, uncomfortable, stands still and waits for Malin to speak up. He didn’t even mean for any of this to happen. Sure, he likes her, but as a friend. He’s never really thought about being in a relationship with anyone before. No crushes or long stares. No feelings of lust and want. It’s just never been something he’s put any consideration into. So now, standing in the cold darkness, he’s at a loss for words. What kind of a label is he supposed to give their relationship?
His eyes grow wide for a moment as Malin puts her hand in his, then, looking down, he says “yeah.”
Niklas pats him on the back then turns to grab himself another drink. Geir realizes that again, he doesn’t know very many people at the party. He faces Malin, squeezing her hand in his. “Want a drink?” He asks, and she shrugs in response. “We’ll share one, I guess. I’m not much of a drinker.”
She laughs, wrapping an arm across her chest to keep warm. “You still haven’t told me what happened last time.”
“I don’t think you’ll be that interested,” he lies, not wanting to bring it up again. He may not have any experience when it comes to sexuality and relationships, but he knows that guys aren’t supposed to like guys, which is why he can't tell her about the last party. Just to be sure of himself, he places a soft kiss on her forehead before reaching for a plastic cup.
After half a cup of straight whisky for Geir, as Malin doesn't have any liking for the strong liquor, and a couple mixed drinks for the girl, neither are very focused on anything specific. Malin has her mouth attached to Geir’s neck, while the boy himself stares into the air.
What did Mr. Knutsen teach him last year in Sex Ed? No, he wasn’t paying attention. Bananas. That’s not right.
Geir closes his eyes and stumbles. “Sorry," he mumbles as she laughs and continues nibbling on his soft skin.
Isn’t this supposed to be exciting? Isn’t he supposed to be feeling tingles up his spine? That’s what Jan used to tell him when he was first dating in high school. Of course, that was a long time ago. Maybe things are different now.
“You cunt!”
Geir’s pulled out of his haze as he’s suddenly pushed into the damp sand. Confused, he looks up, met with Boone’s furious stare.
“You’re a fucking pervert.”
“What did I do?” Geir asks, completely shocked at the sudden outburst from his friend.
Malin stands completely still, glancing back and forth between the two boys, also unaware of what’s happening.
“Don’t think I can’t see the way you’re looking at me, with those big, blue puppy eyes. You’re fucking disgusting.” He throws his drink on the smaller boy, kicking sand on him at the same time.
“I wasn’t looking at you at all.” Geir raises his voice, trying to shake off some of the stinky liquid. “What’s your problem?”
“This girl, is she your cover up? Are you trying to hide the fact that you’re a queer-ass cunt?”
Niklas jumps in at this moment, stepping between them and glaring at Boone. “Dude, he’s not gay. Take a chill pill; you need to relax.”
“He is! Did you see the way he was looking at me? He said I was hot! He’s going to ass rape everyone in the locker rooms.” Boone pushes forwards, wanting to get his hands on the boy in the sand. He growls as Geir scrambles away, clinging to a log on the ground.
“You’re an idiot. If you’re going to be like this, then go home.” The Swede pushes Boone away, trying to get him to leave the party.
“He’s gay!” He points at Geir, but stares directly into Malin’s eyes. “He’s using you. You’ll see.”
“Leave,” Niklas says through his teeth, wishing that people would stop paying attention to this predicament.
Dozens of eyes watch as Geir pulls himself out of the sand. Malin rushes back to his side, frightened of the other boy who's decided to ignore Niklas and grab a beer instead. “I want to go home.” She mumbles, sighing as Geir nods in agreement.
---
"Hey, Nik!" Geir shouts, skipping down the hall towards his friends. The boy turns around, attempting a smile at him as Boone glares and walks away. Geir slows down and cocks his head.
"Never mind him," Niklas frowns, flicking a hand out towards the bigger teen. "He's confused. He's also an ass."
"What's happened with him lately?"
The blonde shrugs, not wanting to upset either friend. "I think he's had bad experiences that have led to this overreaction. I'm not sure he's going to get over it anytime soon, but you know he doesn't truly mean it."
"I'm ok," Geir sighs, holding the straps of his backpack against himself. "It's just a misunderstanding. It would seem neither of us are good drunks."
"I think it's a little beyond drinking now, bud."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. I think that he seriously believes what he's been saying though. He really thinks you're making moves on him, and he's not taking it well."
"He can fuck off. You know I don't like him that way." The brunette crosses his arms and huffs.
"I know, dude. Hey," Niklas fake punches Geir's shoulder, changing the subject. "You should come over later."
"What's the occasion? Your mom out of town?"
"No, but she won't be drinking."
"I don't know. She kind of scares me. Why don't you come to mine?"
Avoiding the question, Niklas closes his locker and begins to walk towards the school's exit. Geir follows closely to his side, trying to judge his friend's emotions and make sense of them. "Is something wrong with my place," he asks, seeing that he's upset the blonde.
Niklas shakes his head. "I can't though." His expression morphs from his fake smile to quivering lips that try to hold back chokes. His shoulders slump and he turns away.
"Nik, what's up?"
"Mom finally got a job, so she's trying to make a good impression and sober up a bit. Or at least during weekdays."
"That's great news, isn't it? Why do you look so bummed? You look like you're going to cry. You won't will you? I'm not good with this sort of thing."
The blonde's head shakes as he returns his focus on the boy in front of him. "The job's in Sweden."
"Oh."
"We're moving back to Örnsköldsvik in a few weeks."
"A few weeks?" Geir can't believe his ears. "So you'll be gone by the end of winter break?"
"Yeah," the small boy frowns. "Mom says she's known for a while too. She just 'forgot' to tell me. Fucker."
"Sweden's not too far though. I mean, I could come visit."
"But you won't."
"Yes I will. Why wouldn't I?"
"Dude, you talk about visiting your brother in Oslo all the time, but when have you ever gone? Look, it's fine. I'll get over it. I just need to go home and pack, and plan one last big party before I leave."
"No parties. I swear, if I come home drunk again, my dad will pay to have me murdered. An assassination."
"Just one more. For me?"
Geir sighs, rolling his eyes and tugging on his curls. He really doesn't know how to turn people down very well.
---
“What do you want for Christmas?” Malin asks, sprawled over Geir’s back in a massive hug.
“You don’t need to get me anything.” He laughs, picking her up for a piggy back.
“Put me down,” she protests. “And yes I do. We got each other small things last year, and the year before. And now,” she pauses to kiss him. “We’re going out. So, what do you want?”
“I don’t know.” He takes a moment to think. “Tennis balls?”
“Tennis balls? Are you serious? That’s so lame.”
“Why not, I could use a new set of balls for Christmas.” He laughs, then coughs as he realizes what it sounds like. Too scared of sounding homosexual, after rumours of him and this Ottesen guy continue to spread, he thinks of something better. “Or, uh, you could get me a shirt or something. This one’s getting holes in it.”
“I like this shirt. It's very vintage.”
Geir grins, then asks what she wants. “I honestly suck with buying gifts," he warns, remembering past happenings that he'd really rather forget. "So if you don’t tell me, you’re going to get something really crappy.”
“I’m sure I'll love it anyway.”
“No, seriously. I bought Jan a cat last year. I really wasn’t thinking that one through properly.”
“You bought him a cat? That sounds so nice!”
“No, he’s kind of poor and in school, he’s got allergies to animals and is more of a dog person anyway.”
“Oh. What did you do with it then?”
“He still took it, but you know, it didn’t go over very well at first.”
“You’re so funny.” She hops off his back and sits on her bed. “What are you doing for winter break?”
“I have no idea. Normally Boone and I go fishing up north, but he’s not talking to me anymore, so…”
“I still don’t understand his outburst. That scared me.”
“Yeah, well that was a couple weeks ago. Things have gotten worse. I don’t even know what I did. We were best friends, and he dropped me like a log.”
“Things are worse? What’s happening?” She pulls Geir into her arms, running fingers through his hair as he rests his head on her shoulder.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Rumours have been spreading throughout his school, about what happened at the parties Geir’s been to. Both of which, he’s been told, Mr. Ottesen had attended. Geir really wishes he knew the guy’s first name. Some rumours are about him and Boone, and that he crossed the line, and went so far as to violate him. Very false claims. Most rumours however, are about Geir and the boy from another school. He’s shamefully inclined to believe that he did dance with him, and he’s fairly certain that he’s the one who brought him home, but that doesn’t mean anything. He knows for a fact that he didn’t see him at the beach party, let alone invite him home afterwards. He went home with Malin, because Boone had attacked him.
He’s very confused as to why these rumours have started. He’s even more curious as to why people are believing them. People are right to be a little on edge, assuming he is gay, because it would be like heaven in an all-boys school. But he’s not gay. He has a girlfriend, and they kiss and stuff. So people shouldn’t have a proper reason to believe the lies.
Yesterday Mr. Knutsen, the school counsellor (and sex advisor,) approached Geir in the halls. “Mr. Zahl.” He said with half a smile. “Would you please come with me to my office?” Geir nodded and left his spot with Arne and Niklas. Sat in a synthetic chair, Geir asked what was up. Also sitting himself down, Mr. Knutsen made it known that he’d heard the rumours. He asked Geir if he had anything he’d like to talk about, before winter break started up. Of course, it would be completely confidential, so he had nothing to worry about. Geir couldn’t do it, though. He said the rumours were false, and he’d really like to leave. So, with a sigh, the teacher let him go. And Geir regrets it deeply.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll be ok.” He sighs, wondering when he should go home. “My brother’s coming to stay for a few nights.”
“Is he? That’s cool. When’s he coming?”
“Wednesday evening. He won’t actually be here for Christmas night, because of some journalist thing in New York, so we’re having our dinner early. You’re invited by the way. I forgot to tell you.”
---
This letter is longer, Geir can tell. He can feel the difference between one piece of paper and two, and this one definitely has two. He uses a knife this time, to open the envelope, and he pulls out the papers. Looking them over briefly, he sees that they’re written on in three different colours, or two, but switching back and forth, indicating an absence between thoughts. It reads: Christmas rush is the worst! Got mom a big painting. Don’t tell her! Keep your fat mouth shut! Why’d I write it? And I’m coming a day earlier. You CAN tell her that. Phone’s ringing. That was mom. You don’t need to tell her. You have a girlfriend and didn’t say anything to me? I’m hurt. Is she pretty? Is she nice? How long have you known her? Do I know her? Don’t answer this. Burnt my toast. Smoke alarm’s going off. Fuck.
Geir laughs and puts the letters down on his desk. He’s in for one hell of an interrogation from Jan when he comes. That man doesn’t like secrets. Secrets are bad. Not that his relationship with Malin was a secret, he just hadn’t brought it up yet. But to Jan, that’s pretty much the same thing.
Having to wait through the weekend for the letter means that Jan is coming tomorrow. With this realization, Geir runs into the man’s old room. His own belongings have long since replaced his brother’s, and he always feels a need to reorganize them before Jan comes over. He picks up his books that are scattered across the room, stacking them neatly on their shelves next to the bed. He finds many empty cups that once held very strong coffee. Probably from midterms last month. Amongst the mess, Geir finds a few CDs of Boone’s. Ones he’d meant to return months ago. He picks them up, flipping them around in his hands to inspect the names.
Tom Waits. Yes, that man was very nice to listen to, in an interesting sort of a way. Geir had enjoyed him a lot. The raspy-ness of his voice, and the slow blues style in which he sings. Two of the CDs are The Cure, which he’d also liked. And lastly Kickar, from the Swedish band Imperiet, which he actually thinks is Arne’s, and should probably give back.
Taking the CDs under an arm, Geir exits the room. “Mom,” he shouts. “What’s for dinner?”
“Not so loud, sweetie. We’re having salmon and vegetable soup," she says from a few feet away.
“Is there enough for Niklas?”
The woman sighs, placing her hands on her hips. “You really should tell me before I start cooking, that he’s going to be over. You two eat too much.” She moves her hand to her son’s face, pinching his cheek. “Though one wouldn’t guess it.” He slaps her away, groaning. “Watch your attitude. He can come, but no overnight.”
“Cool, thanks.” Geir hops away, back to his room. He flops onto his bed, picking up his bag, dropping the CDs inside and pulling out a book. The Master and Margarita, it reads on its white cover; a black cat with a top hat placed in the middle of the page. He rests his head back on his pillow, which is decorated with the stars and stripes of the American flag, and reads about the devil and his twisted tricks on unsuspecting Russians.
Nearly half an hour into his reading, with screaming women running the streets in their underclothes, Geir’s interrupted with a quick knock on his door before it swings open.
“Hey man, how’ve you been?” Niklas asks, dropping his jacket over a chair. “I’ve hardly heard from you all break.”
“Dunno. I’ve been trying to lay low a bit with everything that’s going on. I found some fake letter thing from someone named Kjell, declaring his love for me. Fucking bullshit. What did I do to deserve this?”
“Where is it? Let me read it.”
“It’s gone. I threw it in the fireplace last night." He flings a hand behind his head, as though he's pointing at the fireplace through the walls of his room. "I’m just tired of this. I don’t understand.”
Niklas sits awkwardly on the floor against Geir’s closet. He taps his knees and pops a bubble with his gum. “It really sucks. Ah well, it’ll blow over. How are things with Malin?”
“Great,” he grins, flashing his teeth as his lips curl up. “She was here this morning, but she had to do stuff with her sister.”
Niklas grins sinisterly, obviously about to ask something Geir doesn’t want him to, and he knows. The brunette cowers away from his friend, swallowing thickly. “So…?”
“So what?”
“You fucked her yet?”
Geir coughs, caught off guard by the question, despite knowing the direction his friend would inevitably take it. “Don’t use those words on her. She doesn’t deserve that.”
“Fine. Going to answer?”
“No.”
“No, you won’t answer or no, you haven’t had sex?”
“No, we haven’t had sex. No, I’m not going to talk about this.”
“Have you thought about it?”
He takes a moment to think, to try to recollect himself. “No.”
“What! I understand you not sleeping together yet. I mean, you’re the type who would wait more than… how long’s it been? Three weeks? Whatever. You’re the kind of guy who caters. But you haven’t even let the thought flow through your head? You haven’t had a nice wank in the shower?”
“I don’t really do that.”
“What kind of a seventeen year old are you? Don’t be lying to me.”
“I’m not lying. I just don’t masturbate.” He cringes at the word, squirming his fingers in the air and squishing his face tight.
“What do you do when you get a boner? You just painfully let it stand there?”
“Why are you asking this? You don’t need to know this. What benefit do you have of knowing how often I get hard-ons and touch myself?”
“I - Uh, it’s a bro thing?” His smile fades and he uncrosses his legs. “Why are you so defensive?”
“Maybe because this feels really gay and isn’t going to help with the rumours.”
If Geir’s completely honest, he doesn’t have erections very often, and he knows that’s not completely normal. But it's not abnormal either. He just doesn’t ever think of things that would spur on those kinds of reactions. He doesn’t want to have sex with Malin, he just enjoys her company and the way she talks to him. He doesn’t need to be intimate to be happy. Of course, there have been the few times where he’s woken up with a stiffy, and had to do something about it. Usually he'd deal with it by dousing himself with cold water. He’d been painfully embarrassed by the whole situation though, even if no one had been around to notice, and would never explore the situation any farther. And by no means would he ever allow his hands to venture down.
“Sorry. Should be more careful now I guess. So…s’up?”
Geir sits uncomfortably for a moment, trying to clear his mind and think of something to answer Niklas' new question. “Jan’s coming tomorrow. I haven’t seen him since summer, since my dad refuses to let me miss school, and Sunday’s church. He knows Jan doesn’t go unless he’s there to make him.”
“What are you going to do with him?”
“Not completely sure. We have a tradition of driving inland a bit and skiing off grid. We also have Christmas supper, but I don’t know what we’ll do other than that. Maybe we’ll go out for coffee and catch up or something. He’s pretty low-key.”
"Sounds like fun." The smaller boy tugs at his jeans. "I have to clean the house with my mom, then pack up all the Christmas decorations. We don't get our Christmas supper with the move happening so soon, and my grandparent's aren't able to make it over this year. My grandpa broke his hip a month ago, and isn't recovered enough yet. So, it'll just be my mom and I this year. Kind of depressing, huh?"
"Nah, we'll find time to see each other again."
"What about New Years? Jan will be gone by then, right? So you and Malin should come over for the countdown."
"That was the party, right? Sounds like a plan." The brunette smiles, standing up to check on supper. "I think the food's ready, I can hear mom setting the table." He motions for his small friend, and together they leave for dinner.
Beta: tardis_child (unbetaed for this chapter. For the moment anyway.)
Overall Rating: pg13 with fluctuations
Summary: Geir Zahl struggles through his faith and sexuality as he tries to make it through his final year at an all boys school in Bergen.
Pairing: Geir/Janove
Feedback: Makes me dance like Helge listening to Psycho Under Min Hatt
Overall Warnings: Language, sexual themes, violence, alcohol/drug abuse, suicide attempt
Disclaimers: Geir, Jan, Janove, Christer and Terje are the only ones whose whole names are used (I don't own them) but most of the OCs are named after various Norwegian and Swedish peeps. Sneaky me is sneaky. I do not own the music mentioned throughout the story. The title is from Frightened Rabbit's song of the same name (don't own that either ;)) The Master and Margarita is Mikhail Bulgakov's story, not my own. You should read it. It's awesome.
Notes: This hasn't been betaed since Matty's busy with her new job and I'm busy looking for a new job, so I haven't really pestered her like I maybe should have XD I'm all moved in though, and Casper's bouncing around me as I write this for you now. Crazy bunny, he is.
“Who’s this?” Niklas asks, looking at the small girl in Geir’s arms and sitting in the cold sand.
“Malin. She’s my tennis partner. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all.” He winks at Geir, glancing back and forth between the both of them. “You two together or something?” His Swedish accent begins to make an appearance as he's obviously downed a couple drinks.
Geir, uncomfortable, stands still and waits for Malin to speak up. He didn’t even mean for any of this to happen. Sure, he likes her, but as a friend. He’s never really thought about being in a relationship with anyone before. No crushes or long stares. No feelings of lust and want. It’s just never been something he’s put any consideration into. So now, standing in the cold darkness, he’s at a loss for words. What kind of a label is he supposed to give their relationship?
His eyes grow wide for a moment as Malin puts her hand in his, then, looking down, he says “yeah.”
Niklas pats him on the back then turns to grab himself another drink. Geir realizes that again, he doesn’t know very many people at the party. He faces Malin, squeezing her hand in his. “Want a drink?” He asks, and she shrugs in response. “We’ll share one, I guess. I’m not much of a drinker.”
She laughs, wrapping an arm across her chest to keep warm. “You still haven’t told me what happened last time.”
“I don’t think you’ll be that interested,” he lies, not wanting to bring it up again. He may not have any experience when it comes to sexuality and relationships, but he knows that guys aren’t supposed to like guys, which is why he can't tell her about the last party. Just to be sure of himself, he places a soft kiss on her forehead before reaching for a plastic cup.
After half a cup of straight whisky for Geir, as Malin doesn't have any liking for the strong liquor, and a couple mixed drinks for the girl, neither are very focused on anything specific. Malin has her mouth attached to Geir’s neck, while the boy himself stares into the air.
What did Mr. Knutsen teach him last year in Sex Ed? No, he wasn’t paying attention. Bananas. That’s not right.
Geir closes his eyes and stumbles. “Sorry," he mumbles as she laughs and continues nibbling on his soft skin.
Isn’t this supposed to be exciting? Isn’t he supposed to be feeling tingles up his spine? That’s what Jan used to tell him when he was first dating in high school. Of course, that was a long time ago. Maybe things are different now.
“You cunt!”
Geir’s pulled out of his haze as he’s suddenly pushed into the damp sand. Confused, he looks up, met with Boone’s furious stare.
“You’re a fucking pervert.”
“What did I do?” Geir asks, completely shocked at the sudden outburst from his friend.
Malin stands completely still, glancing back and forth between the two boys, also unaware of what’s happening.
“Don’t think I can’t see the way you’re looking at me, with those big, blue puppy eyes. You’re fucking disgusting.” He throws his drink on the smaller boy, kicking sand on him at the same time.
“I wasn’t looking at you at all.” Geir raises his voice, trying to shake off some of the stinky liquid. “What’s your problem?”
“This girl, is she your cover up? Are you trying to hide the fact that you’re a queer-ass cunt?”
Niklas jumps in at this moment, stepping between them and glaring at Boone. “Dude, he’s not gay. Take a chill pill; you need to relax.”
“He is! Did you see the way he was looking at me? He said I was hot! He’s going to ass rape everyone in the locker rooms.” Boone pushes forwards, wanting to get his hands on the boy in the sand. He growls as Geir scrambles away, clinging to a log on the ground.
“You’re an idiot. If you’re going to be like this, then go home.” The Swede pushes Boone away, trying to get him to leave the party.
“He’s gay!” He points at Geir, but stares directly into Malin’s eyes. “He’s using you. You’ll see.”
“Leave,” Niklas says through his teeth, wishing that people would stop paying attention to this predicament.
Dozens of eyes watch as Geir pulls himself out of the sand. Malin rushes back to his side, frightened of the other boy who's decided to ignore Niklas and grab a beer instead. “I want to go home.” She mumbles, sighing as Geir nods in agreement.
---
"Hey, Nik!" Geir shouts, skipping down the hall towards his friends. The boy turns around, attempting a smile at him as Boone glares and walks away. Geir slows down and cocks his head.
"Never mind him," Niklas frowns, flicking a hand out towards the bigger teen. "He's confused. He's also an ass."
"What's happened with him lately?"
The blonde shrugs, not wanting to upset either friend. "I think he's had bad experiences that have led to this overreaction. I'm not sure he's going to get over it anytime soon, but you know he doesn't truly mean it."
"I'm ok," Geir sighs, holding the straps of his backpack against himself. "It's just a misunderstanding. It would seem neither of us are good drunks."
"I think it's a little beyond drinking now, bud."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. I think that he seriously believes what he's been saying though. He really thinks you're making moves on him, and he's not taking it well."
"He can fuck off. You know I don't like him that way." The brunette crosses his arms and huffs.
"I know, dude. Hey," Niklas fake punches Geir's shoulder, changing the subject. "You should come over later."
"What's the occasion? Your mom out of town?"
"No, but she won't be drinking."
"I don't know. She kind of scares me. Why don't you come to mine?"
Avoiding the question, Niklas closes his locker and begins to walk towards the school's exit. Geir follows closely to his side, trying to judge his friend's emotions and make sense of them. "Is something wrong with my place," he asks, seeing that he's upset the blonde.
Niklas shakes his head. "I can't though." His expression morphs from his fake smile to quivering lips that try to hold back chokes. His shoulders slump and he turns away.
"Nik, what's up?"
"Mom finally got a job, so she's trying to make a good impression and sober up a bit. Or at least during weekdays."
"That's great news, isn't it? Why do you look so bummed? You look like you're going to cry. You won't will you? I'm not good with this sort of thing."
The blonde's head shakes as he returns his focus on the boy in front of him. "The job's in Sweden."
"Oh."
"We're moving back to Örnsköldsvik in a few weeks."
"A few weeks?" Geir can't believe his ears. "So you'll be gone by the end of winter break?"
"Yeah," the small boy frowns. "Mom says she's known for a while too. She just 'forgot' to tell me. Fucker."
"Sweden's not too far though. I mean, I could come visit."
"But you won't."
"Yes I will. Why wouldn't I?"
"Dude, you talk about visiting your brother in Oslo all the time, but when have you ever gone? Look, it's fine. I'll get over it. I just need to go home and pack, and plan one last big party before I leave."
"No parties. I swear, if I come home drunk again, my dad will pay to have me murdered. An assassination."
"Just one more. For me?"
Geir sighs, rolling his eyes and tugging on his curls. He really doesn't know how to turn people down very well.
---
“What do you want for Christmas?” Malin asks, sprawled over Geir’s back in a massive hug.
“You don’t need to get me anything.” He laughs, picking her up for a piggy back.
“Put me down,” she protests. “And yes I do. We got each other small things last year, and the year before. And now,” she pauses to kiss him. “We’re going out. So, what do you want?”
“I don’t know.” He takes a moment to think. “Tennis balls?”
“Tennis balls? Are you serious? That’s so lame.”
“Why not, I could use a new set of balls for Christmas.” He laughs, then coughs as he realizes what it sounds like. Too scared of sounding homosexual, after rumours of him and this Ottesen guy continue to spread, he thinks of something better. “Or, uh, you could get me a shirt or something. This one’s getting holes in it.”
“I like this shirt. It's very vintage.”
Geir grins, then asks what she wants. “I honestly suck with buying gifts," he warns, remembering past happenings that he'd really rather forget. "So if you don’t tell me, you’re going to get something really crappy.”
“I’m sure I'll love it anyway.”
“No, seriously. I bought Jan a cat last year. I really wasn’t thinking that one through properly.”
“You bought him a cat? That sounds so nice!”
“No, he’s kind of poor and in school, he’s got allergies to animals and is more of a dog person anyway.”
“Oh. What did you do with it then?”
“He still took it, but you know, it didn’t go over very well at first.”
“You’re so funny.” She hops off his back and sits on her bed. “What are you doing for winter break?”
“I have no idea. Normally Boone and I go fishing up north, but he’s not talking to me anymore, so…”
“I still don’t understand his outburst. That scared me.”
“Yeah, well that was a couple weeks ago. Things have gotten worse. I don’t even know what I did. We were best friends, and he dropped me like a log.”
“Things are worse? What’s happening?” She pulls Geir into her arms, running fingers through his hair as he rests his head on her shoulder.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Rumours have been spreading throughout his school, about what happened at the parties Geir’s been to. Both of which, he’s been told, Mr. Ottesen had attended. Geir really wishes he knew the guy’s first name. Some rumours are about him and Boone, and that he crossed the line, and went so far as to violate him. Very false claims. Most rumours however, are about Geir and the boy from another school. He’s shamefully inclined to believe that he did dance with him, and he’s fairly certain that he’s the one who brought him home, but that doesn’t mean anything. He knows for a fact that he didn’t see him at the beach party, let alone invite him home afterwards. He went home with Malin, because Boone had attacked him.
He’s very confused as to why these rumours have started. He’s even more curious as to why people are believing them. People are right to be a little on edge, assuming he is gay, because it would be like heaven in an all-boys school. But he’s not gay. He has a girlfriend, and they kiss and stuff. So people shouldn’t have a proper reason to believe the lies.
Yesterday Mr. Knutsen, the school counsellor (and sex advisor,) approached Geir in the halls. “Mr. Zahl.” He said with half a smile. “Would you please come with me to my office?” Geir nodded and left his spot with Arne and Niklas. Sat in a synthetic chair, Geir asked what was up. Also sitting himself down, Mr. Knutsen made it known that he’d heard the rumours. He asked Geir if he had anything he’d like to talk about, before winter break started up. Of course, it would be completely confidential, so he had nothing to worry about. Geir couldn’t do it, though. He said the rumours were false, and he’d really like to leave. So, with a sigh, the teacher let him go. And Geir regrets it deeply.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll be ok.” He sighs, wondering when he should go home. “My brother’s coming to stay for a few nights.”
“Is he? That’s cool. When’s he coming?”
“Wednesday evening. He won’t actually be here for Christmas night, because of some journalist thing in New York, so we’re having our dinner early. You’re invited by the way. I forgot to tell you.”
---
This letter is longer, Geir can tell. He can feel the difference between one piece of paper and two, and this one definitely has two. He uses a knife this time, to open the envelope, and he pulls out the papers. Looking them over briefly, he sees that they’re written on in three different colours, or two, but switching back and forth, indicating an absence between thoughts. It reads: Christmas rush is the worst! Got mom a big painting. Don’t tell her! Keep your fat mouth shut! Why’d I write it? And I’m coming a day earlier. You CAN tell her that. Phone’s ringing. That was mom. You don’t need to tell her. You have a girlfriend and didn’t say anything to me? I’m hurt. Is she pretty? Is she nice? How long have you known her? Do I know her? Don’t answer this. Burnt my toast. Smoke alarm’s going off. Fuck.
Geir laughs and puts the letters down on his desk. He’s in for one hell of an interrogation from Jan when he comes. That man doesn’t like secrets. Secrets are bad. Not that his relationship with Malin was a secret, he just hadn’t brought it up yet. But to Jan, that’s pretty much the same thing.
Having to wait through the weekend for the letter means that Jan is coming tomorrow. With this realization, Geir runs into the man’s old room. His own belongings have long since replaced his brother’s, and he always feels a need to reorganize them before Jan comes over. He picks up his books that are scattered across the room, stacking them neatly on their shelves next to the bed. He finds many empty cups that once held very strong coffee. Probably from midterms last month. Amongst the mess, Geir finds a few CDs of Boone’s. Ones he’d meant to return months ago. He picks them up, flipping them around in his hands to inspect the names.
Tom Waits. Yes, that man was very nice to listen to, in an interesting sort of a way. Geir had enjoyed him a lot. The raspy-ness of his voice, and the slow blues style in which he sings. Two of the CDs are The Cure, which he’d also liked. And lastly Kickar, from the Swedish band Imperiet, which he actually thinks is Arne’s, and should probably give back.
Taking the CDs under an arm, Geir exits the room. “Mom,” he shouts. “What’s for dinner?”
“Not so loud, sweetie. We’re having salmon and vegetable soup," she says from a few feet away.
“Is there enough for Niklas?”
The woman sighs, placing her hands on her hips. “You really should tell me before I start cooking, that he’s going to be over. You two eat too much.” She moves her hand to her son’s face, pinching his cheek. “Though one wouldn’t guess it.” He slaps her away, groaning. “Watch your attitude. He can come, but no overnight.”
“Cool, thanks.” Geir hops away, back to his room. He flops onto his bed, picking up his bag, dropping the CDs inside and pulling out a book. The Master and Margarita, it reads on its white cover; a black cat with a top hat placed in the middle of the page. He rests his head back on his pillow, which is decorated with the stars and stripes of the American flag, and reads about the devil and his twisted tricks on unsuspecting Russians.
Nearly half an hour into his reading, with screaming women running the streets in their underclothes, Geir’s interrupted with a quick knock on his door before it swings open.
“Hey man, how’ve you been?” Niklas asks, dropping his jacket over a chair. “I’ve hardly heard from you all break.”
“Dunno. I’ve been trying to lay low a bit with everything that’s going on. I found some fake letter thing from someone named Kjell, declaring his love for me. Fucking bullshit. What did I do to deserve this?”
“Where is it? Let me read it.”
“It’s gone. I threw it in the fireplace last night." He flings a hand behind his head, as though he's pointing at the fireplace through the walls of his room. "I’m just tired of this. I don’t understand.”
Niklas sits awkwardly on the floor against Geir’s closet. He taps his knees and pops a bubble with his gum. “It really sucks. Ah well, it’ll blow over. How are things with Malin?”
“Great,” he grins, flashing his teeth as his lips curl up. “She was here this morning, but she had to do stuff with her sister.”
Niklas grins sinisterly, obviously about to ask something Geir doesn’t want him to, and he knows. The brunette cowers away from his friend, swallowing thickly. “So…?”
“So what?”
“You fucked her yet?”
Geir coughs, caught off guard by the question, despite knowing the direction his friend would inevitably take it. “Don’t use those words on her. She doesn’t deserve that.”
“Fine. Going to answer?”
“No.”
“No, you won’t answer or no, you haven’t had sex?”
“No, we haven’t had sex. No, I’m not going to talk about this.”
“Have you thought about it?”
He takes a moment to think, to try to recollect himself. “No.”
“What! I understand you not sleeping together yet. I mean, you’re the type who would wait more than… how long’s it been? Three weeks? Whatever. You’re the kind of guy who caters. But you haven’t even let the thought flow through your head? You haven’t had a nice wank in the shower?”
“I don’t really do that.”
“What kind of a seventeen year old are you? Don’t be lying to me.”
“I’m not lying. I just don’t masturbate.” He cringes at the word, squirming his fingers in the air and squishing his face tight.
“What do you do when you get a boner? You just painfully let it stand there?”
“Why are you asking this? You don’t need to know this. What benefit do you have of knowing how often I get hard-ons and touch myself?”
“I - Uh, it’s a bro thing?” His smile fades and he uncrosses his legs. “Why are you so defensive?”
“Maybe because this feels really gay and isn’t going to help with the rumours.”
If Geir’s completely honest, he doesn’t have erections very often, and he knows that’s not completely normal. But it's not abnormal either. He just doesn’t ever think of things that would spur on those kinds of reactions. He doesn’t want to have sex with Malin, he just enjoys her company and the way she talks to him. He doesn’t need to be intimate to be happy. Of course, there have been the few times where he’s woken up with a stiffy, and had to do something about it. Usually he'd deal with it by dousing himself with cold water. He’d been painfully embarrassed by the whole situation though, even if no one had been around to notice, and would never explore the situation any farther. And by no means would he ever allow his hands to venture down.
“Sorry. Should be more careful now I guess. So…s’up?”
Geir sits uncomfortably for a moment, trying to clear his mind and think of something to answer Niklas' new question. “Jan’s coming tomorrow. I haven’t seen him since summer, since my dad refuses to let me miss school, and Sunday’s church. He knows Jan doesn’t go unless he’s there to make him.”
“What are you going to do with him?”
“Not completely sure. We have a tradition of driving inland a bit and skiing off grid. We also have Christmas supper, but I don’t know what we’ll do other than that. Maybe we’ll go out for coffee and catch up or something. He’s pretty low-key.”
"Sounds like fun." The smaller boy tugs at his jeans. "I have to clean the house with my mom, then pack up all the Christmas decorations. We don't get our Christmas supper with the move happening so soon, and my grandparent's aren't able to make it over this year. My grandpa broke his hip a month ago, and isn't recovered enough yet. So, it'll just be my mom and I this year. Kind of depressing, huh?"
"Nah, we'll find time to see each other again."
"What about New Years? Jan will be gone by then, right? So you and Malin should come over for the countdown."
"That was the party, right? Sounds like a plan." The brunette smiles, standing up to check on supper. "I think the food's ready, I can hear mom setting the table." He motions for his small friend, and together they leave for dinner.