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“You lied to those guys!”
I don’t say anything, just look at her.
She takes a deep breath. The Cannibal Corpse lettering on her shirt is stretched wide, and Jolly Jumper shakes himself out of sleep in his stable.
Think of something else, Phil! Come to your senses! After this sweetness has been battered like this, she needs a man capable of giving her the protection she needs. Not a human wreck like me.
“That means you want to protect me?” Her baby blue eyes scan me with an x-ray gaze that heats my brain cells to just short of boiling point. “Oh my God! Why didn’t I think of that myself? If these psychos knew that, they wouldn’t be helping me!”
“Most likely,” I agree with her.
“They… these…” Breathing, she puffs herself up like a giant beetle. “At the end, these Antifa-villains would attack me—instead of Kevin. And… and… you, too!” The black of her pupils devours the innocent blue of her eyes. “Oh my God, Philipp! Why did you let yourself make a deal with them?”
Because for the life of me I couldn’t think of anyone else?But I don’t say that. Instead, I ask her a question. “Is it wrong if the wrong people do the right thing for the wrong reason?”
Celine casts down her eyes. The dark blond fringe of her upper lashes kisses her cheeks. When she looks at me again, there’s a twinkle in her gaze. “Has anyone ever told you that you can talk people out of their minds, Philipp?”
Not in so many words.I smirk. Then I point to the chairs on the other side of the counter. “Grab one and sit here next to me. We need to plan the next steps…”
Twenty minutes later, everything is settled:
Since suspicion will of course immediately fall on Celine and indirectly on me, we need witnesses who can prove that we are not involved. That’s why there will be a spontaneous Christmas party tomorrow evening.
Celine’s organizational skills are unbeatable. With cheetah-like speed, she hacks lists into the computer keyboard: drinks, food, decorations. “Soda, Coke, water. Apple spritzer?” She looks at me with narrowed eyebrows, and I nod in silent agreement. “Sparkling wine, definitely. And orange juice. Anything else?”
“Beer,” I suggest. “Wine, rather not.”
“Noted. I’ll leave the brand choice up to you.” She fires a little smirk at me. “Man stuff.”
“Copy that!”Fine with me.Then I take a closer look at her. “It would be helpful to have some clothes for you. I mean, it’s not like the boyfriend look doesn’t suit you…”
She looks down at herself, wiggling her toes in her flower print Crocs. “I need some shoes, too. I can’t show up at any party looking like this.”
“Bullshit, you should definitely keep those. It’ll set a new trend.” I smirk and receive a wrinkled nose from her. “Should I stop byChic & Grace?”
“At Pauline’s?” Celine’s amused expression melts into an upset mask. “No!” She almost spits out the syllable and starts hacking away at the computer keyboard. After a while, she turns the screen toward me. “There. You can get everything I need at the discount store. I’ll write it down for you.”
Holy shit! What kind of mood change was that? Could anyone understand girls…?
24. To BeNondescriptlyAbsent
Celine
The moment Philipp mentions Pauline, my stomach feels like a wet mop being squeezed out by the press of the mop bucket.What on earth does he see in her?
Put more simply: of course, I realize that she’s much more chill, easy-going, and amusing than I am. She is the type of woman who is game for anything with a man. At the same time, she lacks the prudishness that I have so often found to be a hindrance.
After Philipp says goodbye with a shake of his head—which I can’t blame him for—I log on to my social media account.
Given my relationship status’engaged, I clench my hands into fists. Then, not hesitating for another moment, I change it back tosingle. Then I log out and shut down the computer.
At the Christmas party the next night, I feel like a third wheel.
The tattooists—called artists, as I have learned in the meantime—who have come to work that morning, treat me no differently than their peers.No question!And also the clients, who followed Philipp’s short-notice invitation more numerous than thought, do not let me feel that I do not belong.
Nevertheless, somehow, I feel naked among all the colorful skin.
Philipp plays the piano. After each song, he asks another client to take a selfie together with him and me. His “Say cheese!” sounds so often that I’m sure to have sore muscles in my face tomorrow.
