by Jay Bell
Allison was the ideal audience as he spilled the details, gasping and exclaiming at all the juicy parts and asking all the right follow-up questions. Reliving the details with her triggered a longing inside of Ben. He wanted to see Tim again or at least call him, but part of him was reluctant. What had happened between them had been intense, and now Ben felt it prudent to back off a little. He didn’t want to scare Tim off. Plus, it would feel extra satisfying if Tim made the first move.
Making the transition back to sixth period wasn’t the struggle that first period had been since Ben genuinely liked Ms. Hughes, even though he wasn’t looking forward to explaining why he’d been skipping. He searched his mind for a believable excuse during class, and she kept her eye on him as if he would raise his hand and confess at any moment. By the end of the period, Ben was considering slipping out with the rest of the students when she asked him to stay behind at the last moment.
“Well?” she asked, sitting on the corner of her desk.
Ben took a deep breath. He’d already been caught by his parents, so that wasn’t a worry, but he could still get in trouble with the school. Then again he didn’t have a good story prepared.
“There’s this guy,” he began. “Tim Wyman.”
Ms. Hughes nodded. “I have him in my second period. He thinks he’s Tom Cruise.”
Ben laughed and nodded before all the details came pouring out of him. All of it. Even his parents didn’t know about Tim’s parents being out of town or the ankle injury. Ben was also open with his feelings, hesitating only when he reached the part where they slept together.
“I think I can imagine the rest,” Ms. Hughes said. She was quiet for a moment, making Ben wonder if she was doing just that. Then she said, “Sarah Niles.”
“Sorry?”
“Sarah Niles,” Ms. Hughes repeated. “She used to copy off my tests during freshman year. Dumb as a post, but beautiful.” She paused, gauging Ben’s reaction and continuing when he nodded with encouragement. “Sarah was my first love, ever since she kissed me behind my parent’s rose bushes at a birthday party. I would have done anything for her, and I did. She never would have passed Physical Science if it wasn’t for me. Unfortunately, like your Tom Cruise, she wasn’t exactly comfortable with herself.”
“So what happened?”
“She promised we could go to the dance together. I knew we couldn’t openly go as a couple, but single girls go together all the time and end up dancing together, and no one thinks anything of it. Sarah was popular and liked to keep me a secret, but still she promised. The night of the dance, I showed up on my own. We were supposed to meet there, but unbeknownst to either of us, some of Sarah’s friends had decided to fix her up with a guy. She was dancing with him when I showed up. Young and brave as I was, I intended to cut in. But then Sarah shook her head.”
Ben swallowed. “And then?”
“And that was it,” Ms. Hughes said, straightening up. “Love isn’t meant to be hidden away and life is too short for shame. I was lonely a good couple of years, but I met someone just before graduating.”
Ben thought of the teacher he’d seen Ms. Hughes kiss and wondered if it was her.
“You’re too bright to ruin your academic career for a guy, Ben. I hope you can bring him around to seeing things your way, but being held back a year isn’t going to seduce anyone.”
Ben laughed. “So what’s my punishment? Cleaning the chalkboard?”
Ms. Hughes assigned him an essay and went over the details of a test he would have to make up. She could have demanded Ben drop and do pushups, and he would have gladly complied. If only every adult in his life was as cool as she was.
After school Ben went directly home. He made sure to be a social part of the family for the entire night, helping with dinner, washing dishes and even being civil to his sister. He wanted his mom to see that she had made the right decision in cutting him some slack. Of course, staying close to home was good too, just in case Tim decided to call. By midnight, when Ben was climbing into bed, it was clear that this wasn’t going to happen. As he fell asleep, Ben couldn’t help picture Ms. Hughes, young and passionate, striding across the dance floor with determination but being stopped dead by the shaking of Sarah’s head.
* * * * *
Wednesday rolled around, and even though it had only been two days, to Ben it seemed like an eternity. Waiting for any sort of signal from Tim was driving Ben crazy, so he decided to try to catch Tim in the hall where he had seen him the first time. There was no sign of him there, so Ben tried again the next day. His persistence paid off. Ben spotted him as he rounded the corner of the hall. Tim was much further down, surrounded by the same snobs and jocks as before. Bryce Hunter was there, repeatedly pointing at his own legs and pantomiming throwing a football and then a tackle. Tim was laughing at his story while leaning on one crutch, his other side occupied by Krista Norman who had wrapped herself around him like a python.
Ben stooped down to fumble with the contents of his backpack while trying to casually keep track of them. Eventually Krista and Bryce left in the opposite direction, while Tim and Darryl Briscott headed down the hall. Ben stood, shouldered his backpack, and began walking toward them. Darryl wore his standard vacant expression, every available brain cell dedicated to keeping him upright and walking. That left Tim free to notice Ben’s stare. Tim held up a hand to his face, one thumb by his ear, pinky in front of his mouth; the universal sign for “call me.” Ben grinned and nodded before he broke eye contact.
Abandoning subtlety, calling was the first thing he did when he got home. The phone rang and rang, and just as he was about to hang up, it clicked and Tim’s voice was on the line.
“Hey,” Ben said, having no idea what to say next.
“Hey,” Tim echoed. “You have to come get me. I’m totally sick of it here.”
“I don’t have a car,” Ben reminded him.
“I think you’ve driven mine more than I have. Get over here.”
Ben rushed over to Tim’s house, trying not to run. He didn’t want to arrive sweaty and disheveled. Tim was waiting for him in the driveway, standing between his car and a white SUV that hadn’t been there last week, meaning that at least one of his parents was home.
“Let’s go,” Tim said, voice tense as he handed Ben the keys.
“Everything all right?” he inquired.
“Yes!” came the impatient response. “C’mon.”
Ben felt uneasy as he unlocked the black sports car and took a seat. He glanced over at Tim, who still hadn’t smiled or shown any sign that he was glad to see Ben. Only after they were a few blocks from the house did the tension evaporate, allowing Tim to act like his old self again.
“Everything all right at home?” Ben asked.
“Yeah,” Tim said. “I’m just sick of being there, that’s all.”
Ben knew there was more to it than that, but he didn’t want to return Tim to his foul mood by playing twenty questions.
“So where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know.” Tim leaned over and checked the dashboard. “Gas station, first. The tank is empty.”
“Sorry about that. I didn’t have any cash to fill it up last week.”
“It’s all right.” Tim pulled out his wallet and slid a plastic card from it. “Gas card. My parents pay for all of it.”
“Wow! That’s generous of them.”
Tim shrugged.
“Well, if you have all the gas in the world, I know exactly where we should go. When do you have to be home?”
“Anytime is fine. They won’t even notice that I’m gone.”
After refueling, Ben drove to Interstate 45 and cranked up the music as they headed south. Occasionally Tim would turn the volume down and ask where they were going, but Ben would only grin and turn the music back up. After an hour of exceeding the speed limit, they were traveling though landscape that began to give way to water and palm trees.
“Galveston?” Tim read from one of t
he signs.
“Yeah,” Ben confessed. “Ever been there?”
“No. What’s it like?”
“This is pretty much it.”
They were crossing the two-mile-long causeway now, a tremendous expanse of road that spanned the huge body of water below. They continued across to Galveston Island, which did its best to appear as a hot tourist attraction and failed, coming across more like the trashy cousin of Miami.
“Looks pretty cool,” Tim commented as they passed garishly lit restaurants that were just starting to see an influx of patronage.
They turned left onto the last stretch of the seawall boulevard. Ben kept Tim distracted and looking away from the small area where the Gulf of Mexico could be seen and continued driving until they reached the Bolivar Ferry. The stars were shining favorably on Ben that day. The ferry was docked and cars were pulling onto it. Tim sat up, looking more enthusiastic. Once the car was parked, they left it and walked to the front of the boat for a better view. To the east, water stretched out and disappeared into the horizon.
“Is that the ocean?” Tim asked excitedly. “That is, isn’t it?”
“Yup,” Ben said. “Well, the Gulf of Mexico anyway. My dad always calls it the poor man’s Atlantic.”
“It’s all the same water, right? This is so cool!”
They stayed on deck during the twenty-minute ride, Ben singing sea shanties to make Tim laugh as wind blew through their hair and mist from the waves chilled their skin. When Bolivar Peninsula came into view, they hurried back to the car and impatiently waited for the other cars to disembark ahead of them.
They didn’t drive far before finding a decent beach. Tourist season was starting to die down, and while it was impossible to find complete solitude, they did find an area unpolluted by sunbathers. Tim’s crutches kept sinking into the sand, so they backtracked to solid ground and parked themselves there, enjoying the view. The sky changed its flavor to tropical orange as the sun steadily made its descent, seagulls calling out to each other above the crashing waves.
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen the ocean,” Tim said. “Or gulf or whatever.”
“I guess there’s nothing like this in Kansas,” Ben replied. “I figured that you traveled a lot with your parents, though.”
“Not really. They like to take trips on their own, but I have been to Mexico City half a dozen times. My mom’s family all live there.”
“What’s it like?”
“Beautiful. Very different from here. That’s what I like about it.” A far-away look came into Tim’s eyes as he remembered. “I always make them take me to the volcano, Popocatépetl.”
“Popo-what?” Ben snorted.
“Popocatépetl,” Tim repeated.
This sent Ben into a fit of laughter.
“That’s what it’s called,” Tim insisted, before starting to laugh himself. “I guess it does sound kind of goofy.”
“I love how you say it with the accent and everything,” Ben said once he had calmed down. “Can you speak Spanish at all?”
“Fluently. I was raised bilingual.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious at this point that you’re bi,” Ben teased.
“I’m not,” Tim protested. “I just get really horny sometimes.”
Ben tried not to laugh at this but couldn’t help himself. Tim looked insulted so Ben shoved him playfully and told him to stop taking everything so seriously.
“I don’t care what you are,” he said bravely, reaching out to pat Tim on the back. He let his hand linger there. “I like you for who you are.”
“It’s not the sports car, then?” Tim asked as Ben began to run his hand up and down his back. “Or the movie star good looks?”
“Are you kidding me? I can barely stand to look at you. The car, on the other hand, is pure sex.”
“That she is,” Tim grinned.
“Coche bonita!” Ben tried. He was pretty sure it meant ‘beautiful car.’ He suddenly wished he had paid closer attention in school. “Say something to me in Spanish.”
“Like what?”
“Something nice.”
Tim thought for a while before clearing his throat. He turned and looked Ben directly in the eye before speaking. “Enséñame a volar, mi mariposa hermosa.”
The smile faded from Ben’s face. He didn’t understand all of it, but one word had stood out. “Something nice,” he complained.
“Sorry if you didn’t like it,” Tim responded, appearing offended.
“Well I know what ‘mariposa’ means, and I’m sick of hearing it.”
Tim scrunched up his face in confusion. “Who’s been saying mariposa to you?”
“Everyone in my Spanish class,” Ben told him. “We had a substitute and someone asked how to say faggot in Spanish--”
“It’s not!” Tim protested. “Oh, man. How could I be so stupid? Mariposa means butterfly.”
“It does? So it’s not homophobic?”
“Yeah. Well, no.” Tim thought about it for a second. “It’s just like the word ‘fairy’ in English. You can say it all day long and it doesn’t mean anything bad, but call someone that in the right context and it can be offensive.”
“Oh.” That explained why Mrs. Vega hadn’t reacted when the students kept using that word. In a way it was kind of cool. Basically everyone was saying ‘butterfly’ to him. Big deal! Knowing this would make it easier not to react in the future. “So what did you say to me then?” Ben asked.
“Forget it,” Tim said dismissively. “I should have chosen my words better.”
“No, tell me!”
“Maybe later.”
Ben begged him to reveal what he had said a few more times, but Tim was adamant. Instead he started digging around in the sand, looking for shells that weren’t broken to take as souvenirs. This led to them digging a moat, followed by the inevitable building of a sand castle. It wasn’t the right kind of sand though, so all they could build was a shapeless mound of sand. Ben made a limp flag out of some seaweed and a stick and stuck it in the top, dubbing it Popocatépetl.
The night had finally arrived in full, the temperature dropping. Ben was about to suggest they leave when a laugh came from further down the beach. Raucous voices soon joined it as a group of silhouettes moved toward them. Ben hoped not to be noticed in the dark, but as the strangers passed there were puzzled murmurs before one of the voices called out. Tim answered, causing a few to scream and the others to giggle.
The group walked toward them, the distant streetlights illuminating five girls, all college age or older. Each had a beer in hand, two of them carrying half-empty twelve-packs in the other. The girls were all boney clones of each other, except for one who was stocky and confident. She was the first to speak to them in a thick Bronx accent.
“What are you two doing out here? On a date or something?”
“No,” Tim laughed. “What about you?”
“We’re not lezzes! Ew!” mocked one of the girls in the background to the others’ amusement.
“That one is kind of cute,” murmured one of the voices.
“How old are you guys?” challenged the ringleader.
“Old enough,” Tim retorted to their delight.
“You guys want a beer?”
“Yeah, I need to sit,” whined a girl with bleached blonde hair. “Let’s drink one with them.”
The girls jostled for position on the sand, ending up forming a circle like some strange council. The ringleader sat directly in front of them while the two prettiest flocked to Tim’s side. Nearest Ben was a fair-haired girl with timid posture who risked a sympathetic glance in his direction before looking away.
Tim eagerly accepted the beer. Ben turned it down, as the designated driver, which caused a round of laughter. They handed him one anyway. He sipped at it moodily, not drinking more than the bare minimum.
“You guys go to college around here?” asked the brunette nearest to Tim.
“Yeah, we sure do.” He turned a
nd winked openly at Ben.
“Which one?”
Tim paused. He hadn’t been in Texas long enough to bluff his way through this one.
“Texas A&M,” Ben filled in for him. The college wasn’t remotely local, but the girls didn’t react, proving they were here on vacation. They barely acknowledged his response. All attention was focused on Tim, like dogs eyeing a juicy piece of meat. Ben hoped this wasn’t how he usually appeared.
They continued grilling Tim through his first beer. By his second they were trying to outdo each other to gain his approval. Some told of their raunchy exploits back home. One tried humor and failed miserably. The girl nearest to Tim relied on physical charm, finding excuses to make bodily contact with him. So far she seemed to be in the lead. Only the bashful girl next to Ben refrained from these games. She started a cautious conversation with Ben about what life was like in Texas, which he found hard to focus on while keeping an eye on the proceedings.
When Tim stood to answer a call of nature, the brunette rose with him, wrapping an arm around his torso to help him walk. This caused a chorus of “oooohs” from the other girls that set Ben’s teeth on edge. He tried to follow them with his eyes as they left, but they were soon lost to the dark.
It was hard to judge how much time passed before they came back, but every minute was grueling. When Tim did show his face again, he was grinning.
“I’m afraid, ladies, that we must take our leave,” he said.
“No way! Come and party at our hotel!” the brunette insisted.
“Tell us where you’re staying and we might come by later,” he suggested.
Ben couldn’t wait to leave as they all clamored to give Tim the information. He didn’t say anything further until they were back on the ferry, looking over the edge at the churning water below.
“That brunette sure seemed fond of you,” Ben prompted, making sure to keep his voice neutral. He was certain that acting jealous wasn’t going to earn him any points.
