Identical Hazel Eyes

The plane ride back to Germany is uneventful. Georg’s sleeping in his seat, his headphones on to block out the sound of the other passengers; Gustav’s on his laptop, probably emailing a few of his friends; and Tom’s listening to his own music, really getting into the lyrics as he looks out the window. You sit next to him, reading your book to pass the time. Your iPod died long ago and you wish that you had thought to charge it before leaving the hotel that morning.

Your phone vibrates in your carry on. Tempted to ignore it and keep reading, you turn the page, with the intent on at least finishing the paragraph. Folding over the corner and shutting the book, you dig through your bag and locate the vibrating cell.

(1) New Text From: Andi. the inbox advises.

Hey, when are you coming home?

Sliding the phone to the keyboard you respond quickly, telling him that you’re unsure if it’ll be shortly or a few hours. You slid the phone back and hit send, dropping the phone back into your bag. You lean back, close your eyes and let a sigh escape your lips.

Only a minute later does your phone buzz again with another text.

kk. Are you doing any better?

You tell him the truth. You don’t have any secrets in your friendship. Even though you did hide this for as long as you could, you still feel the need to open up to your best friend and get this off your chest.

Yeah. Things are still awkward between us, though, you respond. Andi knows who you’re talking about. He understands the relationship between Tom and you and often helps the two of you solve arguments. He’s one of the few people you surround yourself that knows almost everything that Tom knows.

Your plane lands two hours later. Saki and Tobi help the four of you with getting your luggage into the rented van outside. After checking that everyone had the right number of bags, you pile in with the rest of the guys. Sitting beside Tom in the back, he shares his iPod with you for the remainder of the trip to each house.

The populated city soon turned into sparse country side along the autobahn as you head farther south. Listening to some rapper rant about justice, you watch the rolling hills change and soon another city was around you. This one was much more familiar than the last. Excitement builds inside your stomach and you neared the first stop, Georg’s home. You were even closer to being home, in your own bed, in your own house.

Georg said his goodbyes, his luggage already out of the van and in his driveway. His mother was soon out to give him plenty of hugs and proclaim just how much he was missed. She then turns to you and pulls you into a warm embrace and greets you in the same fashion before moving on to Tom and Gustav. A small smile tugs at your lips from Georg’s mom.

“Call me with any news, okay?” Georg says to you.

You nod, looking at the ground you’re toeing at. “Alright,” you mumble, as he pulls you into a brief brotherly hug.

The next stop is yours. A large smile comes to your face as the van slows to a stop in front of the wrought iron gates briefly. Looking over at Tom, he shares the same smile and before the van comes to a full stop in the turn around, you’re pulling the door open and hoping out. You sprint to Mom heading down the alley between the house and the woodshed. Your arms come around her neck in a tight hug and you know you’ve caught her by surprise as it takes her a lengthy second to hug back.

Happiness swells inside of you and a broken laugh bubbles from between your lips. You let your arms loosen their grip on Mom and she smiles, brushing your hair out of your face for you before gripping Tom in the same hug. Turning back to the van, just as Saki lowers the last of your suitcases. The body guard turns to you and smiles before pulling you into a hug.

“Take care of yourself, alright, kid?” he advises, clapping you on the back as you turn to give Gustav a hug.

“’Bye,” he smiles, pulling you into a one-armed hug.

You wave with Tom as the van pulls back out of the stone turn-around.

“Well,” Mom says, her hands resting on her hips as she looks at the both of you. “We should get your bags in and get some food ready! You guys must be hungry after that trip!”

You smile as you each grab two roll-aways and begin hauling it all in.

“We’ll leave it here,” Mom says as she lays down the two bags she’s rolled in on the living room carpet. “We’ll sort through it all later and I’ll wash it all before we go shopping.”

That’s right, you think, school shopping still needs to be done. School begins about in only a week, but it feels like it shouldn’t begin ever, with the summer you’ve had.

Mom leads you into the kitchen to help her cook, something Tom and you always did when it was serious talk time. Tom nudged you in the ribs with his elbow and nodded his head toward the counter. There sat a magazine, folded over to an article with your face on the page. Moving closer, you notice the headline.

Tokio Hotel Singer Bill Kaulitz Anorexic!?

Scanning the picture again, you roll your eyes and push the vile tabloid away from you. The picture was of you, signing an autograph for a fan outside of a hotel in, what looked like, Berlin. Your face was gaunt from the angle and the lighting, slight bags under your eyes from lack of sleep (oh, you were sure that someone could have taken a picture of you at any point during the tour and you’d have dark circles permanently decorating your eyes from the little sleep you’d gotten) and, as the tabloid pointed out with angry red arrows, your wrist and fingers were much too thin for any boy your age.

You ran your fingers over your left wrist, feeling the flesh and bone underneath, wondering if they were right. Maybe you were too thin…

“Honey, can you get the eggs out?”

After eating a late breakfast, you and Tom took up the usual job of dishes while Mom went out to the garden, a sunhat adorning her head and a watering can in her gloved hand.

Tom washed while you rinse and place them in the drying rack. Tom nudges you as you place the last plate in the rack. You look over at him to see a goofy smile on his face.

“What?” you ask, turning off the water and draining the dirty dish water.

“Well,” Tom starts mater-of-factly as you move into the living room, wanting to watch some TV, maybe a movie or something, “there’s this party…”

Your shoulders slump and your head hangs in annoyance. “To-om!” you whine, skipping the idea of watching TV now and head past the entertainment center toward the opposite hall.

“What? Come on, Bill! We haven’t been to a real party in ages! Not one this summer!” Tom defends. “And I’m not counting Schrei, because that wasn’t a legitimate party, and you know it!”

Sighing as you exit the living room and head toward the stairs, you run over the possible excuses in your head. Once two stairs up, you notice Tom’s not fallowing and turn slightly, your left foot resting on the edge of the next stair, your hand on the banister.

“Tom, please,” you beg, dealing the sympathetic twin card and hoping he’d play. “I just… want to wind down for a bit, okay?”

Not waiting for an answer, you turn and continue up the stairs. Entering your room, you flop onto the bed, instantly entangling yourself in the covers and burying your head into the pillows. You inhale deeply, taking in the faint scent of laundry detergent and instantly feeling at home.

As you fell asleep, Tom went looking for Mom.