Something Like Spring

by Jay Bell

  “Ben’s best friend, Allison, she took this one.” Tim sighed wistfully. “Back then I didn’t realize how much this photo would mean, or else we would have taken more together. Actually, I probably would have been too scared, but whatever.”

  Jason glanced up to see Tim looking at him and shaking his head.

  “What?”

  Tim grunted. “You make me feel old. You know that?”

  “Sorry,” Jason said.

  “Don’t be. Just don’t waste it. I could have had so many more years with Ben if I’d made him my top priority.”

  Jason considered the photo again before handing it back. “You guys are so lucky. I’d give anything to have what you’ve got.”

  Tim took the photo, put it with the rest, and closed the box again. “That poem,” he said when he turned around. “It’s about how Ben seemed so small and weak at first, but once I got to know him, I realized I had never met anyone stronger. I wanted so badly to be like that, but I couldn’t be. Not back then. Ben did all the work, chased after me no matter how hard I kept running. If he hadn’t—” Tim exhaled. “I can’t even imagine what my life would have been like. I know it wouldn’t have turned out so good. Ben saw that we were meant to be together. Way back then, he knew it, even when I didn’t. So maybe the same thing is happening with you.”

  “What do you mean?” Jason asked.

  “I mean maybe you should start drinking juice on your lunch break, find out if this William guy has that same potential.”

  “I don’t really know anything about him,” Jason said.

  Tim nudged him playfully. “That’s my point. Go find out, and if he’s not the guy, then don’t stop looking. Besides, Ben won’t rest until he gets you paired up with someone. Do it on your own terms, or you’ll probably come home to find blind dates waiting for you.”

  Jason laughed. “Will they be hot blind dates?”

  “Nope. They’d have to be desperate to drive all the way out here on a whim. No, I’m pretty sure they will be old and ugly, just like me.”

  Jason pretended to be repulsed. “In that case, I promise to find someone on my own.”

  “Good,” Tim said. “Now let’s get your stuff up here so we can seal this vault of memories. I’m enjoying the present too much to dwell on the past.”

  After all the boxes were put away and Tim went to scrounge up something for lunch, Jason lay on his bed and thought about everything he’d learned. Then he reached for his guitar, his body eager for something to do while his mind wandered. Except the guitar stand was empty. That was odd, since he never failed to put the instrument back in its proper place. In fact, he was downright neurotic about doing so, but he supposed no one was perfect.

  Then again, the more he got to know Ben and Tim, the more he wondered if that wasn’t true. They sure seemed perfect to him.

  * * * * *

  “Have you seen my guitar?”

  This became Jason’s mantra over the next few days. He’d already searched the house many times—even the backyard—and kept asking this question of Ben and Tim more often than was sane. Jason called Emma to ask her, just in case this was a prank, and asked Chinchilla on the off chance she would lead him to his missing treasure. No luck, no matter which way he turned. This was his worst nightmare come true.

  Not that it hadn’t happened before. Foster home number nine. Some parents love to spoil their foster kids, give them everything they had missed out on. Most kids considered this ideal, although material gifts often made Jason uncomfortable, like he was obligated to act a certain way in return. Rarely did he feel that gifts came without strings attached. One family did seem generous without cause, and that was when his guitar went missing in the morning, replaced by a brand new one when he returned home from school. Jason had been distraught, flying off the handle and demanding to know where his real guitar was—the one his mother had given him. He threw a fit until his foster parents took him to the Salvation Army where they had donated his guitar. Jason had brought along the new one to exchange for it. Similarly, his foster parents had returned him to the group home later that week, no doubt choosing someone who suited them better.

  Ben and Tim were also very generous. That, combined with Jason’s upcoming birthday, was enough to make him suspicious. When the big day finally rolled around, Jason felt more eager than ever to get his present, just to see if he was right. Part of him hoped he wasn’t, because he didn’t want a new guitar. But if he was right, at least they might be able to tell him where the old one was. If it wasn’t lost to the trash. Walking downstairs to the kitchen, he heard words that made him both excited and apprehensive.

  “We found your guitar!” Ben said, standing next to the table with Tim at his side.

  Jason rushed over and groaned. On the table was a cake in the shape of a guitar, Happy Birthday Jason!!! written across it in red frosting. “Thanks,” he said, trying to manage a smile.

  Tim shook his head while looking at Ben. “You’re really cruel, you know that? Just give the boy his present.”

  “Fine,” Ben said. “Go get it.”

  Tim strode out of the room, Jason sitting at the table and watching the doorway for his return. His stomach sank when Tim strolled in, holding a guitar by the neck. The instrument was wrapped, obscuring it from view, but there was no mistaking that outline. Jason’s hands felt numb when he reached out to take it. Instead of opening it, he placed the present across his lap and kept his head down.

  “Listen,” he said. “I really appreciate this. I do. But the old one has sentimental value, and as much I’m sure I’ll like this new guitar, I need the old one back.”

  “Sentimental value, huh?” Tim said.

  “Yeah. My mom gave it to me when I was a kid.”

  “Oh.” Ben looked worried. “Um… Okay. Maybe you should open your present. Then we can talk.”

  Jason nodded, trying to muster some excitement as he peeled back the paper one tear at a time. The new guitar was a lot like the old one. They must have gone out of their way to choose a similar style because— No, not similar, but exactly the same! Had they managed to find a brand new version of the old guitar, one that had never been used? He looked up in confusion, Ben grimacing in worry.

  “I thought having it restored would be a nice gesture, but now I—”

  “Restored?” Jason looked back down, tore away the rest of the paper and looked closely. The wood finish was perfect and glossy, the body without holes that shouldn’t be there. The strings were brand new, and yet the tuning pegs had familiar wear to them, certain frets darker with oil from where his fingers played his favorite chords. “Holy shit!” he said. “It’s like magic!”

  “Bad magic?” Ben asked uncertainly.

  “Good magic!” Jason said, breaking out into a laugh. “This is amazing!”

  “Okay,” Ben said. “I was starting to think all those scratches represented memories you might miss.”

  “No,” Jason said. “The memory is in the guitar itself. And all the music it’s made.”

  And music is exactly what he was hungry for. Jason wanted nothing more than to feel the guitar against his chest, summon the deep vibrations to echo through him.

  “Why is he taking off his shirt?” Tim murmured.

  “Uh…” Ben replied.

  Jason was too excited to be selfconscious. He pressed the body of the guitar against his bare skin, exhaling happily at the familiar sensation.

  “You need some private time with that thing?” Tim asked.

  “Maybe later,” Jason said, grinning wildly.

  He felt unbelievably happy, so he chose a song that was just as goofy and started playing La Bamba. He even tried singing, making up fake Spanish, to which Tim shook his head. Ben noticed this and nudged him.

  “Go on,” he said. “I can’t sing in Spanish, but I’m sure you can.”

  “No way!” Tim said.

  “Yes way,” Jason said, playing louder. “It’s my birthday wish!”

&nb
sp; Tim rolled his eyes, but when the chorus came around again, he gave it his best. His voice was dry and nearly toneless, but at least he knew the lyrics. Jason nodded encouragingly, laughing when Ben started shaking his hips and dancing around Tim, doing a samba. This helped Tim loosen up even more, and when he started moving his shoulders and looking at Ben with half-lidded eyes, Jason brought the song to an end. Otherwise they would end up on the table and ruin his cake.

  “Sorry about the head trip,” Ben said when he was done laughing. “I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

  “It’s cool,” Jason said, beaming down at the instrument. “This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

  “Can we eat some cake now?” Tim asked.

  “Nope,” Ben said. “You know how we do things in my family. Presents come first, and we have one more for you.”

  “Fine.” Tim handed Jason another box. “Welcome to the 21st century.”

  Jason clawed through the paper to reveal an image of a grinning woman with a cell phone pressed against her ear. “My own phone?” Jason asked. “Nice! Now all I need are some friends.”

  Ben shook his head. “You’ve got us, Emma, Michelle—”

  “And I’ve been thinking about getting Chinchilla her own phone,” Tim said. “That way she can call when I need to rush home and let her out to pee.”

  Jason smiled. “Thanks. For both presents. They’re amazing. Thank you!”

  “You’re very welcome,” Ben said. “Now let’s light some candles and have cake for breakfast. Do you know what you’re going to wish for?”

  “He already used his wish,” Tim complained, but Ben hushed him into silence.

  Jason’s mind raced to come up with an appropriate wish. As soon as the last candle was lit, he knew what he wanted. After he blew them out, he turned to Tim.

  “So can I?”

  “Can you what?” Tim asked.

  “Borrow your car.”

  Tim raised an eyebrow. “That was your wish?”

  “No,” Jason said. “But I need your car to go find out if my wish will come true or not.”

  Tim shook his head before realization dawned. “Heading to the mall?”

  “Yeah,” Jason said. “I have a sudden craving for a smoothie.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The mall wasn’t very busy on a Wednesday, but with school over for the day and most work shifts coming to an end, the corridors were slowly starting to fill. Including the food court. The Juicy James vendor had a Western theme, a cartoon mascot painted on the wall behind the counter that held two bananas like they were guns. The employees were expected to wear red-and-white checkered shirts and giant cowboy hats. The outfit was ridiculous and embarrassing, and yet one employee in particular still looked fetching. Jason viewed all of this from a distance, watching William smile as he served customers, as if he genuinely enjoyed his job.

  Jason walked the mall a few times, trying to work up his courage. Then he realized how silly he was being. He didn’t plan to reach across the counter and kiss the guy! All he wanted was a smoothie or whatever it was they served. Heart pounding, he got in line, eyes fixed on the menu posted above. In this manner he managed to reach the counter while appearing oblivious to who worked there.

  “Hey!” said a familiar voice. “Haven’t we met before?”

  Jason looked at William and managed an expression of surprise he felt worthy of an Oscar. He even added a touch of confusion at the end, like he needed time to recognize who this strange person was. Then he got the joke William had made.

  “Met before?” Jason said. “No. Sorry, don’t think so.” He smiled to show he was only kidding.

  William’s smile widened in return. “Jason, right?”

  “That is correct. And you are—” He read the nametag pinned to the checkered shirt. “Wild Wild Will?”

  “Yeah.” William’s ivory skin turned a little pink. “They force us to choose ridiculous nicknames.”

  “I like it,” Jason lied.

  “Thanks. So, what can I get you?”

  Jason blanked. Despite how long he’d stared at the menu, he actually hadn’t read it. “Uh, what do you recommend?”

  “I always get the protein power smoothie,” William replied. “Actually, I’m about to go on lunch break. Want to keep me company?”

  Behold the power of birthday wishes!

  “Sure,” Jason said casually enough.

  “Great. Tell you what, your smoothie is on the house. Meet me over by the pizza place? That way I can grab something to eat.”

  “Okay,” Jason agreed, getting out of line so the next customer could be served.

  He casually reached up to check his hair as he walked to the pizza vendor. His breath was still minty fresh since he’d brushed his teeth before leaving and then chewed almost an entire pack of gum while walking the mall. Jason felt awkward waiting by the pizza place and hated the idea of standing in line with William, so he went ahead and ordered two of their giant slices. He had them in hand when William walked over.

  “You got the drinks,” Jason said. “I’ve got the food.”

  “Oh, great! Thanks!”

  Jason glanced around at the tables, most of which were covered in crumbs and greasy smears. “So should we…”

  “I usually eat outside,” William said. “Escape the chaos for a little bit.”

  “Okay.”

  Jason followed him out the nearest door. Ahead of them was the parking lot, but to the side was a little bench and a few potted plants. William sat first, a leg on each side of the bench, like someone perching the wrong way on the end of a diving board. This made Jason happy, since it meant he could do the same and they would be facing each other. On the wooden space left between them, Jason laid out the pizza and William offered a smoothie in a Styrofoam cup.

  “I hope Canadian bacon is okay,” Jason said.

  “It’s my favorite! How’d you know?”

  “I’ve been stalking you for weeks,” Jason said, relieved when William laughed instead of looking terrified. As nervous as Jason had been, he felt oddly comfortable now. He remained on edge, sure, but also had no trouble being himself.

  “Good choice,” William said, taking a bite of the pizza. Normally the slices looked huge, but William had big hands, making it appear average at best. “I love Canadian bacon.”

  “It’s delicious,” Jason agreed. “I do wonder how they get the Canadian pigs all the way down here. Think there’s a passenger train they all ride together?”

  William’s eyes twinkled at his humor. “Yeah. I bet the really fat pigs get to sit in the first-class wagon.”

  “And the poor skinny pigs have to ride with all the luggage.”

  William shook his head while smiling. “So what are you up to today? Out doing some shopping?”

  That would have been an obvious cover, but Jason didn’t have any bags with him. “Just stretching my legs,” he said. “I actually work across the street at the pet store. I’m off today, but I always come here for lunch. I guess it’s a habit.”

  “Then I’m surprised I’ve never seen you before,” William said.

  Probably because what Jason really did was sit in his car and eat the sandwich he made every morning. “This is my first smoothie,” Jason said. “I’ll be honest with you. I’m terrified.”

  “Don’t be. I made it myself. You’re perfectly safe.”

  Jason exhaled in exaggerated relief and took a sip. The smoothie tasted like bananas and… powder? He guessed that was the protein component. “So is this your secret?” he asked, nodding at William’s chest. The buttons of the checkered shirt were struggling to hold the cloth together over his pecs.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Uh…” Jason wished he hadn’t said anything. “You’re in really good shape.”

  “Oh!” William’s cheeks turned pink again. “Thanks. I actually just like how the protein powder tastes. Is it gross?”

  “No!” Jason said. “I was ju
st hoping I’d get great boobies like yours.”

  William chuckled. “In that case, all you have to do is go swimming every day.”

  “Every day?”

  William nodded. “Every morning, actually. Before school. And sometimes after work if I’m not too tired.”

  That definitely explained the body, but not something else. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” Jason said, “but you don’t look like a swimmer.”

  “Because I’m pale?” William asked. “Irish skin. Can’t be helped. I’ll get a little more tan in the summer, but not before burning a few times. Luckily, the YMCA has an indoor pool.”

  “That explains it,” Jason said, forcing himself to pull his eyes away from William’s body. This wasn’t hard, because he loved his face. Jason could stare into those happy eyes all day long. And he liked how unselfconscious William seemed. Not in an exceedingly confident way, like Emma, but almost as if he didn’t realize how hot he was or even how doofy the oversized cowboy hat looked. Any other guy would have ditched it before going on break, but not William. Then again, maybe he wasn’t concerned with what Jason thought about his appearance.

  “So what did you think of the youth group?” William asked.

  “It was okay, I guess,” Jason said. “I think I’d like it better if everyone just showed up to hang out.”

  William swallowed the last of his pizza and shook his head. “That’s happened before when we were between group leaders. Everyone formed their little cliques and stopped talking to each other. The lesbians were on one side, the gay guys on another, and even those two camps split into smaller groups. Keith gets everyone interacting. I know his lectures can be a little tedious at times, but without him we’re a mess. Are you coming to the next meeting?”