Page 9 of White Room Virgin

5

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Jonah

The next morning, I was already dressed and seated at the kitchen table when Martin shuffled into the kitchen, his movements slow and drowsy, halting in front of the coffee machine. In a last-minute decision not to turn it on, he swept his hand across his face, accompanied by a faint, elusive hum.

I was glad about that because my head was pounding as if I’d drunk a whole bottle of vodka on my own the night before. Not that I knew what being intoxicated felt like, but having consumed only three beers with intermittent sips of water, it was evident that my tolerance was virtually nonexistent. “Are you coming?”

He gave me an exasperated look. “Huh?”

“To church,” I gently reminded him.

“Oh…” Martin turned to me and blinked. “No,” he said, switching on the coffee machine after all. “It’s too early for me.”

“It’s half past nine,” I said, though my words were drowned out by the noisy coffee machine. It was a relief when the machine finally spit out the last drops.

“It was late last night,” muttered Martin.

“When did you get home? I didn’t hear you at all.”

“About… I don’t remember…” Martin opened the fridge and took out the milk. “Three o’clock, maybe?”

“My God! Why are you awake already? And you came home alone? What about Lucien?”

“I still have to write a paper—that’s why I’m already awake. And Lu has moved on. I don’t know if he’s here by now.” He sat down at the table with me.

“I saw Lu’s paintings yesterday,” I admitted, my voice tinged with hesitation. “They were … interesting. Why didn’t you tellme Lucien was exhibiting there?” I found myself taking it personally that Martin had withheld this information from me.

“I thought that was clear.”

“Didn’t you say he wasstudyingart?”

“Yes, Lu is studying in the fourth semester.”

Then he must have started in the spring, right after he dropped out of medical school. How did he manage that?

“But… the exhibition… He sold this huge painting.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy, isn’t it?” Martin said, lost in thought.

“Then why is he still studying? The painting looked like something you’d find in the Louvre.”

“Well, he’s fortunate to have connections with influential people who are willing to pay a lot of money for art. That’s the only way he can finance his studies, his studio, and his room in a shared living. He works double shifts, so to speak, because he needs both: the degree and the money.”

“Does he not have parents to support him?”

“Unfortunately not.”

I felt in awe of Lucien. He was only two years older than me and made a living on his own. And I was kept on such a tight leash that I considered myself lucky to be here in Zurich at all. A glance at my cell phone told me it was time to go. Simon was probably already waiting downstairs.

***

Although I had been living in Zurich for a few weeks, it was my first time attending Sunday Mass. I was taken aback and felt a tinge of irritation upon hearing the sermon, wherein the priest expressed remarkable openness toward same-sex relationships. I only had a few weeks left to find a priest who wouldn’t immediately break a taboo when my parents came to visit.

“Well, that was refreshing.” Simon zipped up his green jacket as we left the church.

In sheer disbelief, I turned my gaze toward him, questioning the sincerity of his words, for I had found the experience far from rejuvenating. My head was still pounding; the topic had instantly sent blood rushing to my head. “Are you serious? I mean… it was about…”

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