Gaby Book 16 - Sweet Sixteen

I woke with a mouthful of hair; hair that I quickly realised was not attached to me. In fact a quick inventory suggested that not only was I sucking on Sophia’s hair but also I was firmly entwined, my face, well you don’t need to know that. It was, well, nice but my bladder was suggesting strongly that I visit the bathroom post haste.

A check of my timepiece revealed it was a few minutes to seven, time to get up anyhow. I took a chance and hit the shower not sure if I wanted to get clean on my own or have Sophia join me. In the event she was still gently snoring when I returned to the bedroom to dress leaving me with more questions than answers.

“You packed?” Mum asked as we descended for breakfast.
“Pretty much.”
“Your dad wants to get off quite sharp.”
“’Kay,” I agreed, well I’m up so that’s half the battle over.

Dad’s ‘pretty sharp’ and reality might not have exactly matched – it was fast approaching ten when the bus eventually left The Harburg! There was no single thing that caused the late start; the time just seemed to evaporate. But anyway we were on our way now.

“You’re quiet this morning, Gaby,” Gran noted as we negotiated Nordlingen’s ‘by-pass’ a few minutes into our journey.
“I guess.”
“I suppose you’re looking forward to school tomorrow?”
“As if!”
“That’s more like the Gaby I know,” Gran chuckled, “so what’s on your mind that’s keeping you so quiet?”
“Nothing really, just stuff, Gran.”
“Well if you want to talk about any of this ‘stuff’ you know you can talk to me.”
“Maybe at home,” I allowed nodding towards the front of the bus where the others seemed to be disarguing about something or other.
“Later then, I’m going to try and get forty winks,” she told me.

By the time we reached the autobahn we were all pretty much lost in our own worlds, Gran snoozing, Jules had her nose in some textbook she was supposed to have read over the holidays, Mand working on one of those Sudoku things. Me? Well whilst I was nominally looking out of the window at the passing scenery my mind was somewhere else.

You can probably take a reasonable stab at what was on my mind, it was certainly weighing quite heavily. Soph hadn’t said anything, was it all in my head? Was there really anything going on there at all? Sure we shared a bed, we snuggled up but was that just what happens in this situation.

It’s not like Soph exactly came on to me; there was no kissing or erm, touching as such, not like with Max or even Toni last summer. Not that I encourage him but I’m sure if it had been Max in the bed it would’ve been a bit, no a lot, more touching. So just what is it I’m feeling?

Hmm, Max, now there’s a can of worms. What really happened over Christmas, was it just the atmosphere, a bit of alcohol fuelled exuberance or is it genuine attraction? None of my friends seemed inclined to act the same way, a quick snog with von Strechau certainly hit different buttons to being with his cousin.

By the time we pulled into Würzburg Süd services I’d played the whole thing through my head every which way for well over an hour. The only conclusion I’d come to was that it was nice cuddling with Sophia this weekend. On the other hand getting close and personal with Max, well it’s different, nice but in a different sort of way.

“Coffee?” Mum suggested, a full complement of agreements were returned – Gran has finally agreed that the excuse for tea you get served in Germany just isn’t worth the heartbreak!

The usual ritual had to be followed of course, queue for the ladies, scratch through your purse for change to get in and receive a voucher for 50c which you might remember to use towards the bladder refill. More likely it’ll join the collection of similar slips hiding in your bag, staying forgotten there until you have the annual clearout when it’ll get binned. Today though Mum was on the ball, collecting six vouchers that went towards our refreshment bill.

“Urgh!” I complained after sampling my caffeine infusion, “That’s terrible.”
“Tastes alright to me,” Mand offered.
“They’ve used the wrong beans, either that or they didn’t clean the pan.”
“We’ll bow to your superior knowledge,” Jules put in.
“It’s important.”
“As long as it’s wet,” Dad added from the next table.

Philistine! He’d drink anything that has even the merest hint of coffee flavouring. I’m not a coffee snob but if you are going to make it at least make it properly.

“So what’s been keeping you so quiet anyway?” Mand enquired between mouthfuls of just about passable Pflaumkuchen.
“Just thinking.”
“About getting it on with Max,” my sister opined.
“As if!”
“Jules,” Mum warned.
“She calls me on Boris all the time.”
“Do not,” I riposted.
“Dad?” Jules appealed.
“Don’t drag me into it.”
“But she’s always doing it,” my sister whined.
Okay, I’ll admit that I have been known to tease her about ole rubber lips but always?
“Well both of you are old enough to know better, Jules stop teasing your sister about Max and, Gaby, same applies to Boris,” Mum instructed us.
“No fun,” I mumbled.
Mum twitched an eyebrow, next would be Sunday names.
“Yes, Mum.”
“Whatever,” Jules added.
“I mean it,” Mum insisted.
Mand never did get an answer to her question.

The rest of the drive back to the Ahr was under increasingly ominous skies, somewhere around Frankfurt they finally started to give up their load. It was at least not snow but the rain that fell was in biblical quantities – at one point we had to slow to a crawl to negotiate flooding of the motorway that had claimed some fool in a tricked out Golf. Another toilet stop delayed us a bit more but we pulled onto our front a bit after four.

“Gran?”
“Yes love?” she finished ironing a pair of knickers – who needs pressed pants?
“You know earlier?”
“You want to talk?”
“Er please?”
“Put the kettle on, I’ll make sure we aren’t disturbed.”

“… And she didn’t say anything?”
“Well not as such.”
“Not as such?” Gran confirmed.
“Well she sort of said she was looking forward to sharing again.”
“I think you’re reading more into things than is there love. You have a soft toy in your bed? Most girls do.”
“Er Poly,” I admitted, he’s a Polar Bear alright?
“And you sometimes wake up cuddling it? I know your mother used to, it was a moth eaten thing called Ted. I’m pretty sure Sophia was enjoying having someone to cuddle up to, it’s probably quite lonely for her away at school and she sees you as a surrogate sister, someone to offer some comfort.”
“I don’t cuddle with Jules.”
“But that doesn’t mean you won’t, what about when your Mum was ill?”
“Well I guess we did a bit, once or twice – but we never shared a bed,” I pointed out.
“Lots of girls do, it doesn’t have to be about sex,” Gran told me.
“I guess not,” I agreed.

I’m still not sure what I felt about it all, maybe it’s me fancying her rather than the other way about? Well it’s a possibility, I do like her but no more than the Angels or Roni or even Mand.

“Urgh!” I announced as I dripped into Thesing’s. Yesterdays rain was still falling, it might have stopped for a bit during the night but it’s as wet as ever this morning.
“And happy New Year to you too,” Con mentioned.
We did exchange texts but I’ve not actually spoken to anyone since Wednesday last year.

“Fröhes Neu Jahre,” I offered in mitigation.
“So how was Bavaria?” Steff enquired.
“Okay I guess.”
“Just okay?” Nena queried.
“Well you guys weren’t there.”
“Or Max,” Pia added.
“Him as well,” I agreed.
“So what did you get up to?” Con pressed.
“Nothing much, they had a firework display and a big party, usual New Years really.”
“I cannot believe that,” Pia stated.
“It was in the castle,” I allowed.
“Usual she says,” Bridg noted with a roll of her eyes.
“I suppose you spent Saturday sleeping it off,” Nena suggested.
“Dad did, he was well lathered, we went riding.”
“You took your bikes?” Con accused.
“Dur, pferde dummy,” I told them.
“You, on a horse? Where did they find one small enough?” Steff asked.
“Yes a horse, it was flippin’ huge.”
“So you’re giving up the fahrrad then?” Pia proposed.
“No way!”

The ride to school was pretty dire, well it could’ve been worse but we squeezed our steeds onto the Express so we only had the short hop from the station to Silverberg to get wet. It was more than far enough to get quite thoroughly wet which only added to the damp atmosphere pervading much of the school. I did at least have spare shoes to change into, thanks Gran, but my jeans were sodden.

“You can’t sit in those all day, Gaby, you’ll catch your death,” Frau Dürst mentioned after registration.
I wasn’t the only one who was wet but I was the one doing most of the dripping and shivering.
“I didn’t bring anything to change into.”
“You can borrow mine,” Rolf suggested.
“Not helpful, Rolf, come on, Gaby, let’s see if Claudia has anything in lost property.”

The options in the lost property box were, well limited to say the least, two pairs of boys trousers, a pair of football shorts, some jeggings that made me look like Nora Batty* and to my dismay a netball skirt in the school’s bright red colours. It was Hobson’s choice, that is none at all; at least my spare tights were still in my bag. I still stood out like a lighthouse, the only girl in school wearing a skirt, a short one at that – I left my jeans dripping in the cloakroom.

“How come the rock?” Steff asked at lunch.
“Frau Dürst insisted because my jeans were soaked.”
“It’s not exactly ready for January,” Brid pointed out.
“Tell me about it, it’s all there was in lost property. Anyhow how comes you lot have dry trousers?”
“Planning?” Pia giggled.

Maddy Bell 02.05.16

* Character from the much loved Yorkshire sitcom Last of the Summer Wine; Nora’s stockings were always wrinkled.