The fear in me

Nay

I'm so unhappy I could howl. I can't get Jason out of my mind and Tim is hopeful of becoming my partner.

After Jason's kisses I'm totally confused. He's putting me through hell. I'd really like to shake him awake. He has to get over his fear of touching someone. I think he even needs that to forget the past at last.

But how can I get that through to him? I can't possibly tell him we kissed passionately when he was lying in a half coma, and that since then he's utterly on my mind the whole time. I'm thinking of nothing but his hands on my body and his lips on my mouth. And just the thought is enough to make me yearn. Yearn for somebody who absolutely doesn't want me.

Who wants nobody. What he just said echoes still. Keep your distance from me!

Is his fear really so strong that he blocks out everything else? Did he really kiss me or in his imagination somebody else? The thought makes me jealous. Me! Never have I been jealous of anybody. I was angry at Tim's girlfriends, not jealous, but I've just become conscious of that. What say there is another girl in Jason's life and he thought she was with him? After all, he didn't know what he was doing. And he didn't say my name. That gives me a pang. And something wet is flowing down my cheeks. In fact for some time I've been shedding tears of lovesickness. How can that be possible?

Then my thoughts wander to Tim, who was quite sweet today. He seems to have really woken up and didn't force me to do anything. He reacted jealously when Jason looked into my room. "Why's he got his room upstairs too?" he asked me in a bad mood and drew the curtains.

"Well, maybe it's something to do with parents that teenagers have their rooms upstairs. After all, we can climb out of downstairs windows, but upstairs that's not so easy." I laughed and he looked at me seriously.

"The upstairs room hasn't yet stopped us from having contact. Do you remember our first nightly stroll. I took a ladder to fetch you down."

I gave a loud groan. Of course I remember that. We were fourteen years old. Two days before the kissing debacle. Tim had brought a bottle of cognac of his mother's and we went with it to the cemetery because that was so cool. Then we drank two mouthfuls and shook with laughter because it was so ghastly. Still, Tim thought later that he had to make me believe he'd been absolutely drunk. Sure, from two mouthfuls. Then he grabbed my breasts and I didn't resist. After that we were both so scared that we went back without talking.

"I wanted to find out that day if you like me! You didn't resist when I ... ah ... touched you," he then said.

"You know I've always liked you!"

"True, but this evening made clear to me that I want more than to be your chum. I wanted to kiss you, well ... and that's what I did. I wanted to be with you ... really be with you. Was I really so bad?"

I blushed and shook my head and he gave a sigh of relief.

"Tim, lots of things have changed! I mean, the kiss was more than four years ago. How can you be sure you have different feelings for me now? Or was that just a joke yesterday?"

"No, absolutely not. I seriously meant everything I said. I'm struggling with myself the whole time. After our first kiss you really made me scared. Yeah, I was so stupid. All right, then it occurred to me that you never go out with other boys ... ahem ... except with Kay, but he doesn't count, because he's always been after Tanja and you knew that. And I wondered why that is so!" "Marvellous! I don't want any declarations of pity just because I'm not so easy to get as you are ..."

"Nay, you know we have a special relationship and I simply wanted to be ready for you ..."

"Oh yes, so that's why you've had so much practice, is it?" I interrupt him sceptically and also rather acidly.

"Why didn't you simply tell me I'm a total idiot? All of my girlfriends were jealous of you, and there were surely reasons for that. Believe me. And you ... you could have given me a signal! I thought you didn't want me." He looked quite crushed.

His girlfriends jealous, of me? What nonsense, I thought.

"Maybe we're just meant to be friends and so nothing has ever come of us ..." I spoke my thoughts out loud.

He shook his head. "No! We're not just friends and I want to prove that to you."

"You don't have to prove anything to me, Tim!" My thoughts roamed to Jason and I bit my lip.

"Was everything just stupid yesterday evening?" he then asked.

I immediately thought of Jason's kiss on his bed and blushed. I'm sure Tim thought I had thought of him and his declaration of love, but he said nothing. Nor did I speak. I let him think that. Not nice ... I know!

"I solemnly promise that some things will change and that I'll now woo you. No precipitate proofs of love, but tough work in restraining myself and winning back your trust ... ha ha ... I know how much you go for the guff of love crooning," he added euphorically.

"Ouch!" I yelled and laughed. "I'd almost have been impressed if you'd have left out the last sentence!

Then my mother called out asking if we wanted to drink coffee, and we went downstairs. It was all so wonderfully uncomplicated. And right then I wondered whether we had not always got along better as friends ...

Sunday was pure torture. Jason's curtains were drawn all day and I can hardly stop myself from storming over to see him. I'm reading a new novel and trying not to think of Jason. For its part that makes me really think of him. In the afternoon Tim calls for me and we go to an ice cream parlour. He's taking pains to show me that he wants more than just friendship, and that makes me embarrassed. The ice cream shop seems to be full of Tim's former girls. All of them look angrily at me. And yet I want somebody else!

When at last it's evening I'm already in bed at 7 p.m. Jason has not shown up and I've not seen him, and that really frustrates me. Tomorrow he can't run away from me. I'll at least be able to see him, and finally that lets me go to sleep.

Next morning I wake up very early. Much too early. I pull open the curtains in front of my windows. Only those that look in Jason's direction. His curtains are still drawn. I'm disappointed. All right, so I'll take a shower first. I've had 1000 dreams and all of them were about Jason. They were beautiful and sad dreams. In the beautiful ones he kissed me and in the sad ones he refused me. How would it be if he never consciously kisses me?

Maybe I'm condemned to have only "good friends"! No. Tim said he would fight for me and is really extra sweet to me. He likes me more than as a friend, he even whispered the famous three little words.

Well, I like him too. Oh yes, and that's the problem ... I like him, but I don't love him. I've become conscious of that.

Perfect timing!

If Jason had not moved to here, I'd at last be a pair with Tim because I'd never have experienced what it feels like to have real yearning.

My shower is gradually getting cold ... oops ... I think I've had a considerably long shower. I glance at my hands and see they're quite shrivelled up. I take my orange-coloured bath towel and wrap myself in it. Then I walk into my room lost in thought. I chuck the towel over a chair and take up the clothes I laid out yesterday and almost fall over my own feet. I have to laugh at my stupidity. And I do that – a full laughter. Until I catch a glimpse of Jason. He's looking at me, then he crouches down. Oh great, I must have looked like a madwoman! Alone, laughing, and ... oh damn it ... in my birthday suit.

Hell's bells!

I wrap myself up again in the towel, grab my clothes, and run into the bathroom.

My God, how embarrassing!