It is Monday morning in 1985, and I am walking towards our school. It is an old castle in the East German countryside, between fields and a forest.

This is the most elite school in East Germany. It is a boys-only boarding school, but we are all adults in our final year. I am eighteen.

Some are here because their parents have money. Others have powerful parents. My father works in a factory. I am here because I am clever, but I walk alone.

I hate this place. I slow down as I reach the gate.

Being clever can be dangerous here.

“Matthias, the answer, please?” the teacher asks.

I look at the numbers in my book. I know the right answer, but I do not want to give it. Last time, Felix called me the teacher’s pet because I was right. Rolf hit me after the lesson. They are both nineteen, a year older than me.

I wait, then give an answer I know is wrong.

“Um… zero?”

“Wrong,” the teacher says. “Perhaps you should work harder.”

Rolf kicks my chair, then hits my leg with his knee. While I try not to move, Felix takes the cap off his pen. I pull away and raise my arm to block his hand.

“Stop!” I shout.

But he flicks the pen before I can stop him. A line of black ink lands across my white shirt.

“Is that your only shirt?” Felix asks.

“His parents can’t buy another one,” Rolf says.

They laugh. I close my cardigan over the black mark because I do not want anyone to see it. I gave the wrong answer, but they still hurt me.

I look down at my clothes. My mother repaired this cardigan, and now I am using it to hide the ink. I press my fingers against the place she repaired.

I hate it here. If I give the right answer, they hurt me. If I give the wrong answer, they hurt me too.

I try to do what they want, but nothing changes. Nothing ever changes.

Someone knocks at the classroom door, and the laughter stops. The teacher opens it. A young man with wet, fair hair stands outside.

“This is Adrian, our new pupil. He’s nineteen.”

“Look at his coat,” Rolf whispers. “Another poor boy.”

I look up. For the first time this morning, everyone is watching someone else.

“Sit beside Matthias,” the teacher tells Adrian.

Adrian sits down and sees the ink on my shirt. He offers me a handkerchief, and for a moment I want to take it. Then I notice Felix watching us.

“No. I don't need it.”

I speak too loudly. Adrian puts the handkerchief away.

“And you'll share room fourteen,” the teacher adds.

My room. Felix makes a kissing sound, and the others laugh.

Oh, fuck. After lessons, I could always close my bedroom door. Now Adrian will be there too, and Felix will have another reason to laugh at me.

By Thursday, everyone has a story about Adrian. In the passage outside our classroom, Rolf tells me about Adrian’s father.

“He was in a special army unit. Now he’s dead.”

“Who told you that?” I ask.

Rolf cannot give me a name. Nobody can. I do not know if any of it is true.

Adrian walks past with his notebook. I never see him without it. We sleep in the same room, but I still know almost nothing about him.

At lunch, Felix moves his bag from the place beside him.

“Sit here, Matthias.”

His father controls important trade deals with other countries. At school, people listen to Felix because his father has power.

On Saturdays, I go to their house to help Felix with maths. At school, he usually acts as if I am not there.

Today he is offering me a place beside him, but I do not trust him. I study his face before I sit down. My bag stays on my knees. I want this to be real, but perhaps it is another joke.

“He is always writing in that notebook,” Felix says. “Perhaps he misses his mummy. Take it, Matthias. Do something interesting for once.”

Adrian has never laughed at me, so why should I hurt him? I almost say no.

Then Felix puts his hand on my shoulder. It feels like a friend’s hand. I start to relax, although I know I should not trust him. I stay quiet because I want his hand to stay there.

After lessons, Adrian puts his notebook on the table by his bed in room fourteen.

“I’m going to wash my hands,” he says, and leaves the room.

I am alone. I reach towards the book, then stop. I could leave it here and tell Felix no.

But Felix was almost friendly at lunch.

I take the notebook and put it under my arm without opening it. Then I leave our room.

I walk along the corridor towards the stairs, where Felix is waiting. Adrian’s notebook is closed under my arm.

I feel guilty because Adrian has done nothing to hurt me. I could still take the book back to our room.

But perhaps Felix will leave me alone after this. Perhaps he and Rolf will stop hitting me.

I hold the notebook against my side and keep walking.

I stop on a quiet landing before I reach Felix. I should see what is inside first.

I open the notebook. There are drawings of a cup, a window and our tired teacher. Adrian notices things I usually walk past.

“They’re beautiful,” I whisper. The words surprise me.

On the next page, there is a drawing of me. In the picture, I am thinking hard, and Monday’s line of ink is on my shirt. But I do not look stupid or weak. I look like someone worth drawing.

I do not want Felix to laugh at these pictures.

I close the notebook and walk into the corridor. Felix blocks my way and holds out his hand.

“Ah. You got it.”

For a moment, I do not move. Then I pull the book against my chest. I cannot give him these drawings.

Adrian is coming along the corridor behind Felix. He sees his notebook in my arms. Before I can explain, he moves past Felix surprisingly fast and takes the book from me.

Felix turns after him. “Screw you, new kid. We’ll get you soon enough.”

Adrian looks at me, then turns away.

That night, I sit on my bed in room fourteen. Adrian reaches for the light switch beside his bed. He has put his notebook away, and we have not talked about it again.

“I didn’t show them,” I say. “The drawings.”

Adrian stops with his hand on the switch. I wait because I hope he will say something about the book, or about us.

“Good night, Matthias.”

He turns off the light. I lie awake in my own bed, looking into the dark.

On Friday, we have wrestling in the gym. We pull the mats across the floor before the teacher tells us to choose a partner.

Felix puts his hand up immediately.

“Sir, I’ll go with the new boy.”

He looks at Rolf, and they both smile. They smiled like that before they hurt me. Now I am afraid for Adrian.

Adrian steps forward without saying anything.

Adrian takes off his sports top. Felix has taken his off too, and both are wearing dark shorts.

I noticed Adrian’s hands before. Now I look at his shoulders and his chest. He moves easily, as if he knows exactly what to do.

I look away because I do not want anyone to notice me watching him. A moment later, I look back.

Felix stops smiling for a second. Then he steps onto the mat.

The teacher gives the signal, and Felix runs towards Adrian. Adrian turns with him, but stays steady on his feet. Then he brings Felix down onto the mat.

Felix is on his back. Adrian holds him there until the teacher speaks.

“Adrian wins.”

Adrian lets him go. It was a fair match, and I almost smile.

Felix looks at the rest of us before he looks at Adrian. Everyone has seen him lose.

“Again,” Felix says. “I want another go.”

Rolf looks at Felix, then runs to the open gym door. He points down the corridor.

“Sir! Someone’s being sick in the toilets!”

“Wait here,” the teacher tells us before leaving.

Rolf watches until the teacher is out of sight. Then he turns back towards the mat. He no longer looks worried.

Now I understand: Rolf only wanted the teacher to leave. The teacher cannot see us from the corridor.

Before the teacher comes back, Felix grabs Adrian without waiting for a signal. Rolf joins him from the side and catches Adrian’s ankle. Adrian falls.

Felix pulls Adrian’s right arm behind his back while Rolf holds Adrian’s ankle. Adrian cannot move away.

He taps the mat with his free left hand. In wrestling, that means stop. Felix sees the tapping hand and knows the rule, but he pulls harder. Adrian’s face shows pain. This is not a fair match now.

“Let him go,” I say, getting up.

I can still sit down. If I help Adrian, Felix will hurt me again. But Adrian looks towards me, and I cannot just watch this time.

I pull Felix away. He lets go of Adrian's arm, and Rolf releases Adrian's ankle.

“Factory boy,” Felix says, turning towards me.

Three other boys get up and join him and Rolf. Now five boys are standing around me.

Adrian is still on the mat behind me. I look for a way past Felix, but there isn't one.

Felix hits me in the mouth, and my lower lip begins to bleed. Another boy pulls at my grey shirt. Before I can turn, Rolf pushes me down. My left cheek hits the floor.

All five are standing around me. I cover my head with my arms as they kick me in the side. There is no room to get up.

Adrian pushes through the group to help me. Felix's elbow hits his right eyebrow, leaving a small cut.

“Stop!”

The teacher has come back. The five boys step away from us.

“They started it, sir,” Felix says.

Adrian and I are sitting on the floor when the teacher reaches us. My lip is bleeding, and my left cheek is swelling. There is blood above Adrian's right eye.

The teacher stands over us and looks down.

“Look at the state you've got yourselves into.”

“We didn't start it,” I say.

“Enough, factory boy. This is a school, not your father's workshop.”

“He was helping me,” Adrian says, but the teacher ignores him.

“Detention. Both of you. Every afternoon next week.”

I stay beside Adrian on the floor, holding my hand against my mouth. The teacher looks from him to me.

“You two are going to be spending a lot of time together.”