part of the clique now, I didn't really fit in. I was still way too young to fool around with the guys. I knew for sure that I just couldn't do that yet. And whatever they said about the police and the government was way over my head—not that it mattered to me, anyway.
Even so, at 5 p.m. I was back at the Center House. This time, however, we didn't go to the club; instead we went to the movies. I wanted to sit next to Kessi and a stranger, but Kathi squeezed himself in between us. Then, during the movie, he started touching me again. At some point, his hand slipped between my legs.I didn't resist. It was like I was paralyzed. I was scared to death of something, but I wasn't sure what. Once, I thought about running out of there. But then I reminded myself, Christiane, this is the price you have to pay for being part of this clique. So I let him do whatever he wanted, and I didn't say a word. After all, I had incredible respect for this guy. But when he said that I should touch him too, and when he tried to pull my hand toward him, I clamped my hands together tightly in my lap and ended things.
I let out a huge sigh of relief when the movie was finally over. I broke immediately away from Kathi and went over to Kessi. I told her everything, and I also said that I didn't want any part of Kathi anymore. I'm sure Kessi told him what I thought later on because a little later I found out that she'd had a huge crush on Kathi herself. She started crying right there in the club because Kathi didn't pay any special attention to her. Eventually she did finally confess to me how crazy she was about Kathi; she said that she always felt like crying whenever he was around.
Despite the thing with Kathi, I was now a solid member of the group—despite the fact that they all referred to me as “the baby.” But that didn't matter; I belonged to them. None of the guys tried to touch me. Word had gotten around, and everyone was fine with the fact that I was still too young for fooling around with. That was totally different with the drunks—the teenagers who spent all their time drinking beer and schnapps. If any of their girlfriends didn't want to fool around or drink with them, they treated them horribly, almost brutally. They made fun of them, insulted them, and ostracized them. In our group, there was none of that emotional brutality. We accepted each other just the way we were. After all, we were all on the same journey—or at least all on the same drug trip. We understood one another without a lot of talking. Nobody was ever loud or obscene. We didn't paymuch attention to what the others were gossiping about—we felt like we were above all that.
With the exceptions of Piet, Kessi, and me, everyone else already had jobs. And they all had a similar outlook on things: They hated life at home and they hated their jobs. Unlike the drunks, who were always worked up about something, carried their stress into the club with them, and let their aggression out on others, the people in our group could kick back and chill out. After work, they'd put on different clothes, smoke pot, put on some hot new music, and make a perfect little world for themselves. When we were together, it was love and peace all around us, and we forgot about all the shit that happened in the real world that existed outside of our little clique.
But I didn't quite feel everything the others felt; I didn't “get it” completely. For that, I think, I was still too young. Still, they were my idols. I wanted to be exactly like them. I wanted to learn from them because they knew how to make their own rules; they knew how to live a life that was actually cool. They didn't let all the assholes out there get them down. Reality hardly mattered anymore. Parents and teachers couldn't tell me what to do; I was through with them. The only thing that mattered to me now was my group of friends—well, that and my pets.
The reason I was so obsessed with my friends at the time was
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