Something Like Summer

by Jay Bell

As the tub filled and the bubble bath frothed, Ben thought of how he was supposed to be in P.E. this very moment. He felt deliriously happy about missing it, but he still had to make it back to school in time for roll call in English class. Even though he had awakened early to have extra time, he already needed to leave if he wanted to make it.

  “Bath’s ready!” he yelled as he headed for the door. “See you later today!”

  “Don’t take my car!” Tim shouted back.

  “What?” Ben responded before shutting the front door and getting in the sports car.

  Ben felt conspicuous being the only person walking across the parking lot when he arrived, but he wasn’t stopped and figured it wouldn’t matter if he was. What were they going to do, punish him for showing up? He felt less confident when he entered the school and found the hallways empty. Having just heard the bell, he had assumed that first period just ended. Now it was clear that second period had begun. He was huffing and puffing by the time he reached his English class.

  “Well?” Mrs. Carroll insisted with raised eyebrows.

  Ben sighed. Some teachers were happy to wordlessly issue a tardy or not bother about it at all. Others expected explanations and apologies.

  “Sorry,” he panted. “Just came from P.E. and Coach made me stay behind.” He doubted she would ever check up on this. He took his seat before she could ask any more questions. To his relief she resumed whatever lecture he had interrupted.

  “Lose track of time loitering in the showers?” whispered a snide voice from next to him.

  Ben looked over to the sneering, freckled face of Daniel Wigmore. He didn’t know how it was possible, but Daniel had ended up sitting next to Ben in at least one class every year, much to his chagrin. He had become something of a ginger-headed nemesis. Daniel was one of those students who took scholastic competition very seriously. He was always sure to flash his homework when he got “A’s,” which was always, and would speed through tests and slam his pencil down, surveying the class with a smug expression.

  “Or did Coach ask you to stay behind and blow him?” Daniel pressed.

  “Keep your fantasies to yourself, faggot.”

  That wiped the grin off Daniel’s face. People never expected Ben to use a word like that. It was twice as effective coming from a gay guy, and more worrying too, thanks to the whole “takes one to know one” philosophy.

  Daniel turned his attention back to his obsession with perfect grades and left Ben to mentally plan when he would skip school again. Technically he could leave after this class, but he knew it would probably be a bad idea.

  Third period Spanish didn’t help his resolve any. There was a test that he had forgotten to study for that he had surely failed, along with a few more snickering uses of the word mariposa whispered in his direction.

  By lunch he was anxious to go and told Allison as much.

  “Forget it!” she said vehemently. “You can’t start ditching me at lunch for anyone, no matter how hot they are. Besides, your absence didn’t go unnoticed in choir. You’re Mrs. Hammond’s star pupil. All of her hopes and dreams are being lived vicariously through you now. She practically organized a search party when you didn’t show up yesterday!”

  Allison might have been exaggerating, but she did have a point. Mrs. Hammond was the teacher most likely to notice him not being there.

  “What did you tell her yesterday?” Ben asked.

  “That you were sick.”

  “Well, tell her I am again today. Two days in a row isn’t so suspicious.”

  Allison sighed and shook her head dramatically. “So what’s going on that you’re so excited about? Is Tim less straight than we initially suspected?”

  “No, he’s straight all right, but--” Ben grasped for words but failed to find any that suited him. “I don’t know. I just like him, and taking care of him is sort of like playing house. It feels real, even if it isn’t.”

  “So in other words, you are deluding yourself.”

  “Maybe, but better an imaginary romance than none at all.”

  “I guess,” Allison conceded. “I’m just worried that you are headed for a broken heart.”

  “Mm,” Ben replied noncommittally. “What’s up with your heart lately?”

  “You mean with Ronnie?” A sly smile crossed her face. “Things are going good. Very good. He has my class schedule memorized and keeps escorting me to each one. We still haven’t been on a proper date, though. Speaking of which, you and I are going to the movies on Saturday.”

  “We are?” Ben hadn’t considered it, but this weekend he would finally be free to spend the entire day and night with Tim. He didn’t want to brush Allison off for any reason, even his latest infatuation, but it might be the only opportunity to spend an extended amount of time with him.

  “We are,” Allison confirmed. “At least that’s what I’m telling my dad. I need you to cover for me so Ronnie and I can go out. You’ll do that, won’t you?”

  “Yes!” Ben breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s perfect, actually. I’ll be over at Tim’s until late, so my parents will think I’m out with you. If your dad calls then my parents will back up the story.”

  Allison took a final bite of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully before tossing the remaining crusts into the brown paper bag. “Who knows,” she said with a wicked grin, “maybe we’ll both be getting laid this weekend.”

  Chapter Six

  The week finally came to an end after a series of breakneck starts and whiplash stops. The mornings and afternoons spent with Tim went by in the blink of an eye, while the truncated school hours felt twice as long as they had before. Saturday came and Father Time, choosing perhaps to show mercy, steadied to a meandering pace that promised a long and satisfying weekend.

  Oppressive humidity forced them to crank up the air conditioning in Tim’s house. Even the dark and shadowy den was affected by the thick heat outdoors as a storm of massive proportions gathered. Ben spent the morning cleaning up around the house and wrestling with the controls of the laundry machine. As fun as it was being domestic, he was glad to be done with the chores and to spend some time with the person in his care. Unfortunately, the pain killers had once again put Tim to sleep.

  Ben wandered the house, absorbing the details and decorations that hinted at Tim’s life. On the nightstand in the master bedroom, he found a photo of a grey-haired, stern-faced man with an impressive physique. Next to him smiled a slight and beautiful Hispanic woman, the source of Tim’s dark hair and tan skin. After considering them for a number of minutes, Ben set the photo back down next to the rosary beads that lay there.

  As Ben continued to explore he found a number of crucifixes hanging on the wall, as well as a small collection of Bibles in the living room. Possibly the religious items were no more than decorations to Tim’s mother. Ben could remember one client of his own mother who had a thing for rustic crosses despite not being religious, but it was much more likely that Tim’s parents were Catholic. Ben couldn’t help wondering what they would think of him when they met, if they ever did.

  There were two types of religious people in the world, in Ben’s experience. The first were those who let their heart lead them, who chose what fit with their world view while disregarding what didn’t. Ben’s parents were like this. They rarely went to church and held a rather idealistic and loving vision of God that didn’t mesh with the Old Testament’s portrayal.

  Then there were those who took every piece of Scripture literally. Such people unquestioningly followed every rule and obeyed every command of their spiritual leaders, no matter how nonsensical and outdated these conventions might be. These mindless extremists tended to make life difficult for everyone else. Ben certainly hoped that Tim’s parents didn’t fit into this category.

  As for Ben, he tended not to believe in any sort of god or devil. Except when he sang. That was the only time the veil between reality and the impossible melted for him. Singing revealed to him a million worlds made up of c
olors the physical eye could never see, realms populated with countless spirits and energies of all kinds. God was there too, a benevolent being of as many faces as there were religions on the earth. Oh, yes, when he sang such things were possible, but the second he stopped it all faded away, forgotten until the next time he took up his voice again.

  A snort followed by a grunt called his attention back to the present. There was a shuffling followed by the sound of a Coke can opening. Tim was finally awake.

  “Oh, man, I slept deep,” he said as Ben entered the room. His hair was sticking up in all directions and was so adorable that it took all of Ben’s willpower not to reach out and muss it up further. “The house looks nice. Thanks.”

  “No problem. You can repay me by staying awake. I was going out of my mind with boredom.”

  “Sorry.” Tim grinned. “I took too many of those pills. You should try them. They make you feel great.”

  “I might take you up on that,” Ben said, remembering the mellow buzz that had followed his tonsils being removed.

  Tim yawned like a lion in the Savanna heat. “I feel grody. Would you mind running a bath for me?”

  “Bored,” Ben reminded him.

  “Oh. Once I’m in the tub you can come in and keep me company,” Tim offered.

  Surely Tim was aware of how erotic such a situation would be for Ben. Was he offering more than it sounded like or was he just being playfully flirtatious without any real intentions? Regardless, Ben rose to run the bath without revealing any enthusiasm. If Tim thought he could easily arouse Ben’s appetite... Well, he could, but Ben wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing it.

  Once the tub was full of steaming water and bubbles, he waited outside the door while Tim climbed in. It took much longer than it would for an uninjured person, but once he was settled he called for Ben. The shower curtain was half-closed, obscuring from view everything from the waist down. It hardly mattered. Tim’s impressive upper body was enough to evoke an unquenchable lust in Ben.

  Ben sat on the toilet, for lack of a better place, directly across from the bathtub. Aside from being the only seat available, it allowed him a more revealing angle. There would have been nothing left to his imagination if not for Tim’s injured leg. The cast was propped on the side of the tub so that it wouldn’t get wet. The unfortunate side effect of this was an obscured view.

  “I’m guessing this isn’t how you usually spend your weekends?” Tim asked.

  “You mean watching straight guys take baths?” Ben replied innocently enough. “Oh, you’d be surprised. It’s a fairly common occurrence.”

  Tim’s laughter echoed in the small tiled room. “Well, what do you do besides that?”

  Ben shrugged. “Hang out with Allison Cross. She’s my best friend.”

  “And what do you usually do together?”

  “Shop, mostly. Hit the movies sometimes or just drive around. What about you?”

  “Me and my friends? Same stuff you do, I guess. We don’t shop, but we drive around and try to find somewhere to hang out. There’s been a couple of good parties this year, too.”

  Ben didn’t know anything about that. He was rarely invited to any parties. Such things were the mysterious domain of the popular kids. He had almost forgotten the crowd Tim ran with. How the nice person in front of him could be cronies with the biggest assholes in school was hard to comprehend.

  “Haven’t been on any dates yet?” Ben asked, even though he knew otherwise.

  “Yeah, that too,” Tim said without any great enthusiasm. “Shit. I still haven’t called Krista since this happened. She’s going to be pissed.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “My girlfriend. Krista Norman. Maybe you know her?”

  “I think so,” Ben said evenly as an image of an anorexic witch sprung to mind. “Wow, and you haven’t called her for a week?”

  Tim shrugged, slipping further down into the tub. “I guess I should have, but it just seems pointless right now. The pain killers pretty much kill my sex drive, you know.”

  Ben didn’t know, but now he could safely assume that Tim wasn’t hoping to initiate something with his weird choice of social setting. Such a shame. It would have been a scene right out of those magazine stories. The straight guy starts talking about his girlfriend and gets aroused, eventually turning to the only other warm body around…

  “She never puts out anyway,” Tim continued. “She’s a real cock tease.”

  Ben swallowed a laugh, Tim’s line fitting the fantasy all too well.

  “That sucks. You’ll probably score major sympathy points, though, when she sees you injured.”

  “Hey, yeah! You’re right!” A lazy smile came over Tim’s face as he considered the idea.

  Ben cursed his mouth and brain for conspiring against him. Soon after he was sent upstairs to fetch a new outfit for Tim, which was fun and only helped to further the feeling that they were a young married couple. Was Tim at all aware how this felt for him? Did he care, or was all this just a blur of opium-induced numbness for him?

  As the afternoon faded into evening, the pressure outside finally peaked and exploded. The sky opened with a grumble of thunder and a hammering of rain. They killed the air conditioner and opened the windows, enjoying the rhythmic sound of water pummeling the leaves outside.

  Ben busied himself in the kitchen, attempting to make a simple dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. He had gone over the process a dozen times with his mom, who was becoming increasingly puzzled at his sudden interest in cooking.

  The pasta sauce wasn’t a problem, since it came from the supermarket in a jar. The meatballs were trickier since the meat wasn’t fully defrosted. Ben sculpted them into balls as best as he could, his hands stinging from the cold. Timing was something he hadn’t considered before he started. The pasta was finished boiling before he had even started frying meatballs or warming up the sauce. He took the pasta off the heat but left it in the water in the hopes of keeping it moist.

  After an hour of effort, he ended up with pasta that was much too soggy and meatballs that were slightly burnt on the outside but barely cooked on the inside. Because he couldn’t mess up the sauce, and as he had done with his pancakes, he used a generous amount of it paired with Parmesan cheese to help cover up his mistakes.

  Ben set the dining room table, but abruptly changed his mind, feeling it revealed too blatantly his domestic fantasies. That and the result of his labors didn’t seem worthy of such a formal presentation. He brought the plates into the den instead and placed them on the coffee table. MTV serenaded them in the background as they began their meal.

  Tim reacted to the food like a ravenous stray dog. He tore into it at a speed that promised he wouldn’t be tasting very much of anything, much to Ben’s relief. They were halfway through their meal when the power went off. A vehement snarl of thunder followed the sudden silence, the storm proclaiming its role in the outage. There were a few minutes of scrambling in the dim light until matches and candles were found and lit.

  “Romantic,” Tim joked as they resumed eating.

  “Isn’t it?” Ben tried to chuckle casually.

  “It’s funny. It’s like fate has some crazy plan in mind for us. You running into me that day and dragging me to the hospital. Then you take care of me, do all the stuff you’ve been doing, and now this.” He gestured to the nearly empty plates in front of them. “Dining in candlelight. It’s so close.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you know. If you were a girl it would be perfect.”

  Ben raised his head to make eye contact, and for one electrical moment, Tim looked at him as if he were just that. Then the amorous expression was replaced by one of confusion followed by a few sniffs. “Is something burning?”

  Ben sniffed a couple of times himself. “Shit! The garlic bread!” He darted into the kitchen or at least intended to. With the lights out he ran into a number of walls, probably dislodging a multitude of crucifixes. Eve
ntually he spotted a glow that revealed itself to be the smoldering remains of the bread loaf. He felt around for oven mitts, took the pan from the oven, and tossed the charred bread into the sink, running water over it for good measure.

  With the emergency over, Ben leaned against the kitchen counter and took a deep breath. If only he were a girl, huh? On one hand Tim’s words meant that he was the wrong gender and didn’t stand a chance in hell. On the other they also said, with a few physical differences aside, that Ben was everything that Tim was looking for in a guy. Girl. Whatever.

  * * * * *

  The lawnmower sputtered and chugged, running off fumes now. Ben eyed the three remaining strips of grass yet to be mowed and hoped he could finish without having to refill the tank. He broke into a run, pushing the mower ahead of him with all his strength. A few strenuous moments later and the lawnmower gave one final protesting cough before dying just seconds after the last blades of grass had been sheared.

  Ben smiled in satisfaction as he surveyed his work. The yard didn’t look perfect, but then it never did. As he cast his eye over the lawn, a movement drew his attention to the house where his mother stood in the window. She was peering at him intently as she had been all day, treating Ben with suspicion ever since he had come home this morning. She had assigned him an unmerciful number of chores and regularly checked on him as he worked, as if to catch him doing drugs or whatever else she suspected. Once the mower was put away, he stepped into the kitchen which connected to the garage.

  “All done then?” his mother asked as she handed him a glass of Kool-Aid.

  “Yeah, with everything,” Ben gasped after chugging the drink. “I’m going to take a shower now.”

  “Afterwards you can help me make dinner, since you’ve been so interested in cooking lately.”

  “Yeah, all right.”

  Ben took his time in the shower, since it was apparently the only time he would get any rest today. Some way to spend a Sunday! After he relieved himself sexually, he stood tranquilly under the stream of hot water for what felt like half an hour. Eventually he reluctantly turned off the water and stepped out. Wiping the steam from the bathroom mirror, he eyed himself as he dried off, wondering all the while what Tim would think of his body. Was it good that Ben was so slender because it was more like a girl? Or would it be better if he had muscles that could compete with Tim’s?