“It is so nice to finally meet one of Tim’s friends,” Mrs. Wyman said in perfect but exotically accented English. “He’s been so protective of his social life since Kansas.”
“Not protective,” Tim contradicted. “I just like going out instead of staying home. I’m too old for sleepovers you know.”
If only they knew, Ben thought merrily.
“Do you know his other friends? His girlfriend?” Mrs. Wyman asked.
Ben quickly wiped his mouth with his napkin in order to cover the frown. Girlfriend? Her name had better be a codename for him, like Benita, Benjamina, or something along those lines.
“Of course he knows Krista,” Tim said, staring a hole into Ben’s head.
Krista Norman. Of course. “She’s really pretty,” Ben forced himself to say. “Popular, too.” He wasn’t happy with this deception, but he wasn’t about to let it ruin the evening.
“And what about you?” Mrs. Wyman inquired with a smile. “A fair-haired boy like you must also have a pretty girl.”
“Well, actually,” Ben began before his leg was kicked from under the table. He didn’t spare a glance for Tim as he kicked him back. If he wanted to stay in the closet then that was his problem, but Ben wasn’t going back in for anyone. “I have a boyfriend.”
Mrs. Wyman smiled and shook her head as if she had misheard, while Mr. Wyman cleared his throat nervously.
“He’s really great,” Ben continued, filling in the silence. “Goes to the same school as us, too.” He knew what to do next. He had to make it a nonissue. If he tried to explain who he was, or even defend his sexuality, they would instantly perceive it as weakness. He wanted to be as casual as if he had just declared his own eye color or favorite song. Time for the next topic.
“If I could find a restaurant around here that served authentic Mexican food like this,” Ben said, gesturing to his nearly empty plate, “I would eat there everyday. Everyone else would, too. Such a place would make a fortune! Maybe you should open one.”
Mrs. Wyman accepted his compliment, but it was clear that she was still confused. Ben distracted her by asking about her own career. Within minutes, the cloud formed by the revelation of his orientation had blown out the window like so much smoke. By the end of the meal, Ben was sure he had both of Tim’s parents eating out of his hand.
When they left for the movies as planned, there was a marked change in Tim’s behavior. He was more optimistic than ever before, having seen that the gay issue hadn’t caused his parents’ heads to explode. He even held Ben’s hand in the theater, something he was usually too nervous to do.
This was, Ben felt, the beginning of something grand. Once home, he enjoyed fantasies of both families being present and accepting at the wedding. He wanted nothing more than to share these hopeful visions with Tim, but they had decided to spend the night apart. It wouldn’t do to be caught sleeping together and destroy the delicate bridge that had been built.
Early the next morning, before Ben had even poured his ritual bowl of cereal, Tim was at his front door. Ben greeted him with a victorious smile, but the gesture wasn’t mirrored in Tim’s face.
“They don’t want me to see you anymore,” he stated bluntly.
“What?” Ben made him repeat the sentence, not believing what he had heard. “What happened? I thought they liked me?”
“They did, Benjamin, but Jesus Christ, they’re Catholic!” Tim’s voice was rising, threatening to attract attention, so Ben stepped outside and closed the door. “They aren’t going to ignore their religion just because you can bullshit about sports or geography!”
“Maybe they just need some time to--”
“To what? Call the Pope and ask him to change the rules for you?” Tim scowled at the concrete walkway. “I told you this would happen. I told you they would get in the way. How could I have been so stupid?”
“Nothing is in our way!” Ben said, trying to calm Tim but beginning to feel panicked himself. “So they aren’t going to invite me to dinner again. Big deal! We just go about things like we did before.”
“Do we?” Tim demanded angrily. “We just keep screwing around until the day they find us together? Jesus!”
“I think we can definitely leave him out of this,” Ben joked.
“This isn’t funny! My parents are going to be looking at me differently now. Questioning why their son is hanging around with someone like you!” If Tim noticed Ben’s startled reaction, it didn’t stop him. “Gee, honey,” he said, mimicking Mr. Wyman’s voice, “how come our son brought a gay guy to dinner and not his girlfriend? Hm. I fucking wonder!”
“Stop it,” Ben said, desperately suppressing his own anger.
“That’s exactly what we should do!” Tim spat before storming away.
Ben wanted to chase after him, but not to comfort him. He wanted to knock him to the ground and beat some sense into him. Instead he screamed, “Don’t ever come back!” and stormed back into the house and up to his room, where his anger turned to tears.
Late that night, when the moon was high and the lawnmowers and luxury cars had all fallen silent, Ben crept through the streets and into Tim’s room. Wordlessly, he took off his clothes and slipped into the sheets. They made love, violently at first, expressing their frustration with each other and the world before they slowed and their touches became gentle and apologetic.
* * * * *
Normally, with only four weeks left in the school year, Ben would be counting the days, but he and his friends were too preoccupied. For Ben it was preparing for the talent show. Allison had dragged Ben to Ronnie’s garage one day, where Ebony and Ivory played their song. The music was perfect, but Leon’s stoner voice didn’t do it justice. Ben and Allison were soon sharing the mic. They had found their duet.
Tim’s attention was focused mostly on his baseball games. The next two games could bring the school’s team to the state finals. Ben managed to attend some of these events, watching Tim from the bleachers while pretending to be the wife of a famous Major League player. Or maybe the mistress of one, considering that their relationship was shrouded in secrecy.
A week had sped by since they had last seen each other. Saturday night, after one of Tim’s games and a practice session with Allison, they agreed to meet halfway between their homes. The Wymans were hosting a dinner party and there was never much privacy at the Bentley’s, so Ben and Tim decided to enjoy the warm night together. The air was electric with energy as spring slowly morphed into summer, the cicadas buzzing their hypnotic song in the woods where Ben waited.
They had an anniversary coming up, Ben realized. Almost a year ago Ben had first seen Tim jogging along the path that circled the small lake. They had come so far together since then. Tim had gone from being a masturbatory fantasy to the most important person in Ben’s life. He couldn’t help but wonder how much further they would go together. Prom in two weeks? College? An apartment, marriage, kids?
The sound of thumping feet echoed out of the past and into reality. He turned to see Tim running up to him. For one brief moment, Ben felt as if the past year had been nothing but a dream until Tim grabbed him and broke the spell by kissing him.
“Damn, I’m horny!” Tim said with a grin.
“Good game then?” Ben asked.
“The best!” Tim filled him in on the details as they strolled together. Ben nodded and gave the appropriate responses, even though he still didn’t fully understand the logistics of the game.
“Want to sit down here?” Ben asked rhetorically, kicking at pile of charred wood that had previously been a bench. There had been a number of small arson incidents recently. So far nothing as serious as a house burning down, but the reoccurring fires were enough to make most of the area’s homeowners nervous.
“I think the playground is still intact,” Tim suggested. “Are you a swinger?”
“You know it, baby!”
They were heading for the swings when Tim grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. He moved
in close, pressing himself against Ben. The hardness in his pants made his intentions crystal clear.
“Not here!” Ben protested. “Think of the children!”
“We’re the only ones here,” Tim murmured. “All the kiddies are at home with their parents, glued to their idiot boxes.”
It was a fair point. Ben could spend hours walking the suburbs at night without seeing another living being. A citizen venturing off the safely lit streets into the tamer territories of Mother Nature was even less likely. People always imagined that muggers and rapists lurked in these abandoned parks, which would be silly since they would be waiting an eternity for potential victims.
He let Tim press him up against one of the playground’s wooden structures, lips mashing together as they fumbled at each other’s pants. Ben succeeded first, switching places with Tim before going down on his knees. He listened to the soft sound of Tim’s moans drifting away on the night air as he worked, feeling an odd mix of urgent lust and inner tranquility.
“Police!”
“Hold it right there!”
Ben’s eyes shot open at the unexpected voices, and quickly winced against the bright light. He felt Tim push him away as he struggled to see past the two flashlights that were bobbing toward them.
“Run!” Tim said.
Events finally caught up with Ben as Tim hastily buttoned his shorts and took off into the night. A policeman shouted in protest as Ben raced to follow. For the next minute he knew only his heart pounding in his ears, the dark sliced sporadically by flashlight beams. He caught up with Tim just as the path split into two different directions.
“Split up!” Tim hissed back at him, heading to the left.
Ben took the right path and considered diving into the woods and lying low when he slammed into something that grunted. The collision knocked Ben to the ground, a noise skittering across the pavement, but he didn’t have time to identify it. He was more concerned with getting away, for already the lights were catching up with him.
There was more shouting as he was spotted by the police again, prompting Ben to leap to his feet. He spared one glance down at the illuminated path and looked into the confused eyes of Daniel Wigmore, who was still splayed out on the sidewalk. Ben’s stomach sank as shocked recognition registered on both their faces.
Then Ben was running again, this time through the woods, branches slapping against the hands he raised in defense. Eventually he spilled out into a backyard that he recognized. He allowed himself to stop and gulp down air before running toward home. When he finally made it there, he forced himself to calmly enter and walk up the stairs as if nothing had happened. His lungs were aching as he willed normal, short breaths until he reached his bedroom.
He left the lights off and looked out his window, but for what? Squad cars? A helicopter equipped with searchlights? He wondered if it was too soon to call Tim’s house to see if he had made it safely. What if the police were there right now, talking to his parents? Ben calling at that moment would be the most damning of evidence.
He swore at their stupidity as he paced his room, trying to decide on a course of action. How much had the police really seen? Had they found Daniel? Maybe they would put the blame on him. That would be a nice twist. Of course, Daniel wouldn’t hesitate to rat out Ben. He probably already had.
Ben looked out the window for the twentieth time and saw a patrol car pulling into his neighborhood. He cussed and quietly descended the stairs to the front door and peeped out the window. The police cruiser had already pulled into his driveway. Indecision gave way to desperation. He slipped through the house, slid open the glass door that opened onto the backyard, and ran.
Going through the woods was too risky since cops could still be there, so he crossed into another neighborhood, making a wide arc to where Tim lived. Ben wanted nothing more than to ring the bell or use his key, but he knew what a bad idea that would be. He could see a number of adults through the windows, drinking wine and laughing, oblivious to the drama unfolding around them. The backyard was mercifully empty, the party contained indoors, and there was a light in Tim’s window. Ben threw coins from his pocket up at it until the light turned off. Then he waited.
Tim’s eyes were wild with panic when he stepped into the backyard. Wordlessly, he grabbed Ben’s arm and led him to the side of the house.
“Did they catch you?”
“No. Well, yeah. I don’t know. They’re at my parents’ house.”
“Shit!” Tim craned to see his own driveway.
“Don’t worry, they only--”
“Don’t worry?” Tim repeated incredulously. “The fucking cops caught us screwing!”
Ben sighed, trying to find the right words to defuse the situation. “They don’t know about you! They only know about me because I ran into Daniel Wigmore.”
“Who?”
“A guy in our school.”
Tim’s eyes widened even more. “Someone was watching us?”
“No!”
“How do you know?”
“He was too far away. I don’t know!”
“No, you don’t know,” Tim snarled. “You don’t know what your parents are saying to the police right now either. Who do they think you are out with tonight?”
Ben refused to answer, choosing instead to return Tim’s glare with icy silence. “Look, I’ll tell them I was blowing Daniel,” he suggested at last. “Problem solved.”
“They saw me,” Tim stressed, his voice cracking. “We’re fucked!”
“No, we aren’t,” Ben reached out, wanting to touch Tim, to comfort him and close the gulf he felt opening up between them.
“Yes, we are,” Tim said, pushing his hand away. “Everything’s fucked up. Jesus, what did I let you do to me?”
“Do to you? I didn’t ‘do’ anything. This isn’t a choice, you know. It’s who we are!”
“Get away from me.” Tim shoved him and tried to walk away before Ben caught his arm and swung him back around.
“This isn’t something you can control!” Ben said, hanging onto him with all his strength. “You can’t just push me away and expect to stop feeling--”
“I can’t do this anymore!” Tim bellowed, pulling his arm away and shoving Ben again when he tried to get close. His face was a twisted mask of anger, but tears were flowing from his eyes. “It’s over. Go home.”
Ben tried stepping toward him once more, but this time Tim pushed him so hard that Ben fell to the ground. Tim towered over him, his silver eyes wet, angry, reluctant, and scared, before they closed and he turned away. Ben watched the best thing that had ever happened to him fade into the shadows and disappear around the corner. As he lay in the grass, listening to the muffled sound of laughter and clinking glasses, he marveled at how quickly his world had fallen apart.
Chapter Fifteen
The next week was spent waiting. Ben tried to tell himself this was just another fight. Tim would calm down, eventually feel safe again, and would return to him. All he needed was space. That was what Ben’s brain was telling him. His heart, on the other hand, felt something very different.
When his calls weren’t returned the second week, Ben decided to write Tim a letter. He stressed that there wasn’t going to be any trouble with the cops. Ben’s father had covered for him, claiming that Ben was out with his sister that night. Mr. Bentley was no fool. He understood that it would only be inconvenient and possibly expensive if he let the police take his son. Ben’s parents hadn’t been happy, of course, but they preferred to administer their own justice.
News of what had happened wasn’t likely to spread around the school either. Daniel Wigmore was uncharacteristically tightlipped about the event. He had no doubt tipped off the cops to Ben’s name, but had no intention of informing his peers at school. Most likely he was afraid that one of them would put two and two together. The police were out that night looking for an arsonist. What Ben and Tim had been up to was obvious, but what was Daniel doing there? In retrospect Ben co
uld swear that the sound on the pavement had been a plastic lighter and that Daniel’s silence was further testament to his guilt.
By the end of the second week, it was clear that Tim had no intention of responding. That only left one option—sneaking into the Wyman residence at night and slipping into bed with him. Ben rebelled against the idea. He was sick of feeling like he had done something wrong. Any other couple would be laughing about being caught by the police, or at the very least come together in times of trouble. Why did Ben feel like he had to apologize? Why should he have to talk Tim into being with him? That wasn’t how love worked, was it?
“Ronnie changed the lyrics.” Allison shoved a piece of paper into Ben’s hand.
“What? The talent show is tomorrow!”
“I know, but he only changed a few lines. Just read it.”
Ben browsed the new text, eyes growing wider by the second.
“I hope you’re not mad,” Allison said. “I told him everything, and it just fell into place. What do you think?”
Ben features set with determination. “If they’re willing to play it, I’ll sing it.”
They spent the evening practicing the new lines, Ben’s emotions growing with every word he sang. They carried him through to the next day, when his nerves started playing up at the idea of performing in front of the entire school. The gymnasium, usually separated by a folding wall between the girls and boys sides, had been opened. The bleachers were moved to the far wall, opposite the stage on the other end. Students were stuffed into every available inch, the bleachers groaning under their weight and the floor lost beneath a mass of bodies.
Ben felt like he was going to pass out. Luckily they weren’t the first act on stage. Cheerleaders performed coordinated dance moves to the latest and most dreadful pop songs. Band kids played different instruments, some more successfully than others, and a handful of choir students attempted to sing against the constant chattering of students.
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