Girl from Mars (6 page)

“This young lady needs something good to drink,” Laura tells him.

“Oh, really? What will the young lady have, then?” “Something good. Look at her and think what she would like,” Laura says.

I stare at all the bottles behind the bar. It must be nice
to be a bartender and know how to make every drink.

The bartender looks at me. “Okay then.” And a little later there's a sugar-rimmed glass with a straw sitting in front of me. I let Laura try it. Then we are jostled over to the dance floor. It's already pretty full. Laura takes a sip of my drink. It's sweet and sour at the same time, tastes more like lemonade than alcohol.

Then a song comes on that I really like — Jamiroquai. I start to hum along, but no one can hear me here. I move along to the music a bit.

Laura looks at me, takes the glass from my hand, sticks it somewhere and pulls me onto the dance floor. Somehow she manages to find a spot for me. At first I stand there like a bit of an idiot. Start dancing, for God's sake! But I'm not drunk enough yet. Laura smiles and dances for me. People are looking at us a bit funny, but it's nice how she's dancing there, with her arms in the air, swaying her hips back and forth, twirling around, snapping her fingers and smiling at me.

And suddenly I'm dancing, too, dancing for Laura and smiling at her, too — she holds me with her smile. Even if we do look a bit stupid. But the others don't know that Laura has just granted my wish. I'm dancing with Laura. I feel like I've never danced with anyone else before.

It's fun. We dance to one song, two songs, three, four — I don't know how many. Then we have a drink — Laura, too — and we dance some more and when our glasses are empty we go to the bar and get another. We stand there for awhile, laughing and maybe talking, even though it's
way too loud to talk. We wink at each other, look at the other people and whisper into each other's ears.

“Who do you want to kiss?” Laura asks.

“I don't know.”

“Look around.”

There are a lot of people around. One guy looks over at us. Smiles.

“Him,” I say.

Laura goes over to him. I'm embarrassed. What is she saying? But somehow it's thrilling to see her just walk over and whisper something in his ear. He looks over at me and smiles again. I try to read their lips, but I can't see their mouths.

And then he comes over. Laura stays where she is and just watches as he comes over and says hello. He sounds nice, even though I can't really hear him properly, but he puts his hand on my cheek, looks at me and smiles. And then he kisses me.

Just like that. He kisses me for a really long time, or maybe just for a second, and then at some point he steps back, takes his hand away and suddenly he's gone and Laura is standing beside me again.

“What did you say to him?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did he kiss me?”

“Because you wished for it, Miriam.” She takes a drink and pulls me back over to the dance floor. “I told you that today your wish would be granted.”

And then she starts to dance again.

***

The last song isn't a slow one. “Girl from Mars.” Laura knows the words. But I've had it. I'm leaning back against the wall. The wall is damp, and I can feel the plaster crumbling under my fingernails.

My pulse slows down. “...she never told me her name...I remember...a girl from Mars...”

The dance floor is empty. The song ends, the lights go on. I squeeze my eyes shut.

It's time to go.

Now I can see how dirty everything is here. How ugly it looks in the light. The high white walls, concrete floors and half-empty, dirty glasses, cigarette butts. Women hanging on to men's arms.

Time to go.

Laura and I go outside without saying anything. Laura's jacket is open. She has her hands deep in her pockets and she looks up the street. I'm glad she's not talking. She stands still and takes out her tobacco pouch. She sits on a bench and rolls a cigarette.

I look up at the sky. It's dark blue, riddled with stars. I hear the smoke rattle in Laura's throat.

At some point we meet up with the others. The radio is on as we drive back home. Late at night the music is quiet and right. Nobody talks.

Suddenly Laura leans her head on my shoulder. I take her hand and hold it tight.

10

Sundays.

“No, Ines isn't in. She left a few minutes ago to go to your place.”

“Oh, well, I just wanted to ask her if she could bring along this one book. Well, thank you.”

So Ines is with Flo —

Sundays are dumb. It has to be said again.

11

Have you ever been in love?

I'm fifteen. I've been kissed a few times. But I've never been in love. Or have I? I don't know.

***

The phone rings.

“Hi, it's Suse. What are you doing right now? I'm going stir-crazy, and Martin's busy. Are you free? We could ride around town a bit.”

“I don't have time. I have to do this math thing and my mother wants me to help her clear out the cellar or something.”

“Poor you! Okay. I'll try Ines, then.”

“She's at Flo's.”

“Whatever. I'll call you later or see you tomorrow, okay? Bye!”

I'm fifteen. I've kissed boys before. A few times. I thought I was really in love with Marco and then with Patrick that time during vacation. I thought I wanted to
get married and have kids and that that was a real kiss I had with Marco the first time and with Patrick the second time. And I also thought I was sad when whoever it was didn't call me and things didn't turn out the way I thought they would.

***

The phone rings again. Dennis runs up the stairs, annoyed this time.

“It's for you!”

“Hi, it's Ines. Listen, I just wanted to tell you that I'm at Flo's but I told my mother I was going to your place.”

“Okay.”

“Good. What are you up to today?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, have fun then.”

***

But then I wasn't sad anymore. It's just kind of funny when I run into Marco or Patrick now. And sometimes I wonder why I kissed them. I like kissing. And when I've been drinking, then I really like it. Doesn't matter who I'm with. Maybe I feel something, too, but it has nothing to do with whoever I'm kissing. It's just the kiss itself.

***

“Mum, can I help with anything?”

“Why, are you bored?” Usually she always has some
stupid job or other for me. Why not today? “Something wrong, honey?”

“No. Nothing!”

I find the phone and call Suse. “I'm free now. I'll come over, okay?”

I grab my jacket and take off on my bike.

***

Suse lives on the other side of town. Her grandparents built this house for her parents. It has this big iron gate. That's the kind of a house it is. A house with a gate. A gate that's hard to unlock if you don't know how to do it. A gate that you might glue closed with Superglue on Halloween. That's the kind of house Suse lives in. And she lives on the top floor.

You can turn your music up here, and that's good. Suse likes to listen to music written by strong women who sing about men and women and love. Women who scream and wail but sometimes sing softly, too. Sometimes she copies out her favorite lines from the songs on her notebooks, on her pencil case, and on the wall above her bed.

The music is playing when I walk into her room. Suse is standing at the window smoking, but only because her parents aren't home. Otherwise she'd have to go for a walk to smoke.

Suse's room is big. There are scented candles everywhere, and cushions.

She flicks her cigarette out the window and closes it.

“So, your mother let you go out?” she asks and sits down.

Out? My mother?

“Um, yeah.”

“Good, because I was so bored. You are a true friend, Miriam. Martin's playing football today and afterwards he's going out for a drink with the guys.”

Football. Great.

“You don't want to go and cheer him on?”

“Go out to the back of beyond to stand around freezing my ass off? I don't think so.” She pulls a bottle of nail polish out of a drawer, shakes it.

“Did you go out yesterday?”

She unscrews the bottle. “We were here at the club. I was totally drunk by the end, and then Martin's ex-girlfriend showed up and went berserk. Told me to get my filthy fingers off her boyfriend, like she's one to talk.” She slowly paints her first nail, the one on her index finger. “Martin says his ex is the last of the great sluts, doesn't have a brain in her head and has no idea how to behave. She has to be home by eleven and after that has to go straight to beddy-bye — alone. But she thinks she's so cool.”

She paints the second nail, quiet for a moment, then keeps talking. “No wonder Martin dumped her. I mean, how can you have a decent relationship if you have to live by all these baby rules?”

Suse looks up and I nod at her vaguely.

“Was she really bad to you?” I ask.

“Nope, Martin talked to her. Apparently she made a scene but she must be slowly getting the message that it's all over between them.” Suse shakes her head. “It's pretty pathetic, actually. I feel kind of sorry for her. But I'm grateful to her, too, because otherwise I wouldn't have my sweetie!” With a few strokes she finishes her left hand, examines her paint job and waves her hand to dry her nails.

“I don't really know Martin,” I say. I look around her room to see whether anything has changed.

“Martin is the best. And he's a great kisser! I can't imagine doing it any more with babies like Sven or Kai. They have no idea. Women mature earlier than men anyway, in general. We're two or three years ahead of them, right?”

The CD has come to an end. Suse looks up and says, “Can you stick in a new CD?” She waves her half-finished right hand at me.

I stand in front of Suse's CDs, which I've heard so often before. I even know which are her favorite songs on which CDs. And which songs remind her of what.

I test her. Anastacia. “I'm Outa Love.”

“Oh, please, not that one. That's the song that was on when I kissed Kai for the first time.” She groans.

“How was it, then?”

Suse looks up at the ceiling, as if she has to think hard to remember. Even though it was only six months ago.

“It was at a party at Anne's place. This song came on and I was so hot for him and we were dancing and then he kissed me.”

“And how was it?” I ask again.

“It was just a kiss. When I look back it wasn't so great, but at the time I thought I was in love.” Now she's painting her last fingernail. “But I wasn't.”

“Are you in love now?”

Suse looks at me really seriously before she says yes.

“How do you know?”

“I just know. I feel it.”

“And you didn't feel it with Kai?”

“No. Well, maybe, but not really, and anyway, I don't know, that's over and now I'm in love with Martin and there's no one else.” She stares at me and blows on her nails.

I don't want to be here.

“Listen, I can't stay. I just wanted to see whether you were okay. That's the only reason my mother let me come over.”

“What do you mean, whether I was okay?”

“You sounded weird on the phone. But, hey, you're good, so that's great. I have to go.” I grab my jacket and bag and leave really quickly.

Outside it's clear and fresh and bright. It's a Sunday winter afternoon, and the sun will go down soon.

I pedal as fast as I can. There's not much going on. It's the weekend, the town's taking a time out.

Sometimes I think I'm the only one here. The only one who's not sleeping. The only one who's wide awake.

12

“What did you do on the weekend?” Suse says.

“We went to the Austerhaus,” I say. I'm rolling a cigarette with Laura's tobacco.

“And what did you do?” asks Laura.

“I went out with Martin.”

“Yeah? Where did you go?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. I concentrate on my cigarette, as if it holds the answer.

Rolling cigarettes is pretty difficult. Laura showed me how to do it.

“You went to the Austerhaus?” Ines asks.

“Yes,” says Laura.

“How was it?”

Suse is quiet.

“Good. Wasn't it?” Laura gives me a nudge.

“Mmhhmmmh.” Which can mean anything.

“What was the music like?”

“House? Trance?” Suse says suddenly.

“No, nothing so mainstream.” Oops. Have to start
again. The hardest part is the actual rolling. After that you just have to lick it and smooth it closed, but the rolling is hard. If you want to do it properly.

“Hey,” says Suse, “why don't you just take one of mine before you wear out your fingers?”

“It's okay.” I'm getting it.

“How did you get in?”

“We just paid and went in.”

“So they're not so strict about checking ID and stuff?” Ines can be very, very nosy at times.

“Nope.”

“They couldn't be that strict if they let Miriam in,” says Suse. Run your index finger slowly along the paper. Use your thumb to help.

“Maybe we can all go together some time,” says Ines.

“Girls night out?” asks Laura.

“No, with Martin and Flo, too.” Ines again.

“Martin just likes House and Trance.”

It's rolled. Only the sticking down to do. Lick the paper, press it down. Finished.

Laura's looking over my shoulder. I can smell her skin and see her freckles. She smells like milk. It's weird. Like sweet milk. And a bit like wood.

She takes the cigarette, examines it.

“God, Mi, this one's perfect.” Then she kisses me on the cheek.

Suse lights up a cigarette. And takes a deep drag.