.
.
"Haven't you noticed?" Lotte said. She and Karl were sitting under a tree, reading their homework and translating passages from Ovid. "Noticed what?" Karl said.
"It's sweltering outside, and Johan's wearing a sweater."
Karl turned the page. "So?"
"So, don't you think it's a little weird? You could fry an egg on the sidewalk." Lotte stretched theatrically, then opened her book. "He's always wearing that turtleneck. And the sportcoat! I mean, he's good-looking and all, but that doesn't mean you can get away dressing like an eighty year-old."
Karl lifted his eyebrows. "Really?"
"I'm just saying-"
"You're picking on one of the nicest guys on campus, making fun of the way he dresses," Karl said.
"I'm just saying," Lotte said, and she turned a page.
xXx
.
He never rolled up his sleeves. That was another thing Lotte noticed. Even if he took off his coat (which proved that he was feeling the heat, even if his manner of dress contradicted that!), he kept his sleeves rolled down.
The children he was watching were running in t-shirts and shorts. Johan smiled and waved.
"Ugh, just looking at him makes me fry," Lotte said. Karl was staring at he textbook, miserably. "Hey. Don't you want to ask him?" Lotte asked.
"Ask him what?"
"Why he never takes off his shirt."
Karl set down his book. "You just want to see him shirtless," Karl said.
"No I don't-"
"You totally do. And you're keeping me from studying, so if you excuse me," and Karl put on his headphones, as if it make a point. Lotte crossed her arms and glared.
"It's weird," Lotte said. She plucked off Karl's earphones. "Maybe he's got, like, scars or something. Don't you want to ask?"
"Not really," Karl said.
"Well I can't ask, I'm a girl."
"Sucks for you," Karl said.
"C'mon," Lotte said. "Please?"
Karl turned, hunching over his book.
"Fine," Lotte said. She stood up. "I'll just find out for myself."
xXx
.
The kids were at the pool. Lotte spied on him from behind an umbrella stand, staring. From head to toe, Johan was covered. Pants, black turtleneck, sport coat. Nevermind the fact that the kids were in bathing suits, that everyone else around him were baking under the sun.
"Aren't you hot?" Lotte said. Johan turned.
"Lotte," Johan said. "Good afternoon."
She pointed to his turtleneck. "It's black too. Jesus. I'd melt."
Johan smiled. He had a beautiful smile.
Later she fumed at Karl, "He distracted me!" while Karl just stared at her as if she had two heads.
"You could have asked him. You were standing right there," Karl said.
"Well he just...ugh, smiled at me and I got flustered..."
Karl rolled his eyes. "Fine," Karl said. He stood up, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "I'll ask him." Lotte's eyes widened.
"Really?"
"Yeah," Karl said. Lotte clapped her hands.
"It's only because you're annoying me," Karl said. "And I'm gonna be late for class."
"Okay," Lotte said. She danced a little two-step and twirled into the next room.
xXx
.
Dusk. The air seemed cooler on the rooftop, thick slants of orange sunlight receding into the horizon. Karl leaned against the railings and looked out at the city skyline below him, the small yellow lights winking in the dark.
"You wanted to ask me something," Johan said. He stepped beside him, looking outward.
"Yeah," Karl said. He rubbed his neck, frowning. "Lotte put me up to it. It's kind of a stupid question."
"What would you like to know?"
Karl looked up. Johan's face was as gentle and placid as ever, and Karl turned away, embarrassed. "Lotte thinks it's weird you're always wearing sweaters," Karl said. He stared at the paint on the railing, which was starting to chip. "She thinks there's some deep dark reason behind it, but I tried telling her, sometimes guys like wearing sweaters. You know?"
Karl looked up, expecting Johan to laugh or nod or poke fun at Lotte's stupid observation, but Johan didn't do any of these things. Instead Johan stared out at the city skyscape, his hair moving slightly with the breeze.
"You mentioned your foster family," Johan said. "Were they kind to you?"
"Yes," Karl said. Johan looked at him levelly, then started to take off his coat.
Karl turned. Even without looking, he could hear Johan slowly peeling off the layers of fabric; he could practically hear it sticking to Johan's skin. "Ne," Karl said. "It's stupid. You don't have to-"
He looked. Johan stood in front of him, shirtless, scars and what looked like burn marks marring his chest.
Karl stepped forward. "Johan..."
"Those are cigarette burns," Johan said, softly. He wasn't looking at him. "The rest are belt marks, covering my back."
"I'm sorry," Karl said. Johan smiled.
"Don't be," Johan said. He pulled on his turtleneck, quietly.
Karl stared at his hands, which were gripping the railing. He had asked Johan about his family before, and when Johan didn't answer, he knew it was a touchy subject. But seeing him now, covered in old burn marks and scars, reminded him of how lucky he was in the long run, and that made him feel ashamed.
"I'm only showing you because you confided in me. I feel that I can trust you, too," Johan said. He pulled on his coat, quietly. "I hope in the future, you can confide in me again."
"Of course," Karl said.
Johan smiled. He had a beautiful smile.
xXx
.
The events of the night weren't exactly anticipated, but Johan didn't mind. Little curve balls such as this made things a little less boring, and had he thought of it, actually made the bond between himself and Karl stronger.
He stepped into the bathroom. Switching on the light, he looked at himself in the mirror and at the long scars snaking across his torso. If it had been Anna, if she were the one shoved on her knees and back whipped until her skin was raw and bleeding, he would kill for every single lash, maim their families as they have maimed her. He felt lucky that it was only him.
He stepped into the shower. The water was cool. The night air was thick and warm.