7
Sam
They took a pit stop right outside Mount Vernon, nearly halfway into the trip. While Sam pumped the gas, Ben headed inside, saying something about the bathroom and snacks. He returned a few minutes later carrying two Icees and a yellow plastic bag that looked to be filled to the brim. As soon as he closed the passenger door behind him, he dumped the bag into his lap. Cheetos, popcorn, Chex Mix, Hostess cakes, and Slim Jims littered the car.
“Jesus Christ,” Sam exclaimed. “Did you buy out the entire store?”
Ben grinned over at him. “Almost. Besides, I couldn’t get enough not to share. I didn’t know what kind of Icee you wanted, so I just went with Coke-flavored.”
That tugged on something inside Sam, something dangerous. It was just a friendly gesture, he told himself. There was no need to look any deeper than that. Faith would have done the same for him. Still, he felt a bit touched.
“Thank you,” he said, taking a Swiss Roll.
“It’s also kind of a way to say I’m sorry. I touched a nerve when I asked about the whole money thing, and I should have just let it drop.”
Sam shook his head. “No, don’t. I handled it badly. I don’t like talking about the fact that my family has money because it makes everything weird. Even when I try to make it not weird, it always comes back to the fact that I come from money. It was hell trying to make friends when I was little, because the ones who didn’t have the kind of money we did were always jealous or demanding, and the ones who did have the money we did were always spoiled.”
He pulled back onto the ramp heading toward the interstate, looking over his shoulder for oncoming traffic before merging. Thankfully, Ben stayed silent, allowing him to focus. After a few minutes, Sam set the cruise control and took another bite of the Swiss Roll. It was just cool enough outside that they didn’t need the air on full blast, so Sam turned it down a couple of notches.
“I’m not that jealous,” Ben said abruptly. “I mean, it’s hard not to be a little bit, since we didn’t grow up with much, but from the sound of it, your life wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.”
The tension in Sam’s shoulders eased slightly. He hadn’t expected to hear that from Ben. Hoped, maybe, but hopes and expectations were two very different things.
“I just don’t want to sound like I’m whining. Or that I’m not grateful for the upbringing I had. I am, it’s just…it was always expected that I would go into business with my dad. And when I didn’t want to do that, things kind of fell apart. They wanted to know why, and then they were disappointed, and when I left, they kept being disappointed.” Sam took a sip of the Icee, wincing as his throat froze. He swallowed quickly. “They cut me off completely for a while—no birthday cards, no Christmas presents—thinking that it would bring me home. But it didn’t so then they started giving me expensive stuff. I think they thought it might show me what I was missing.”
“They don’t sound all that understanding,” Ben said.
“My parents aren’t bad people. They’ve just been raised a certain way, and the fact that I don’t want that life confuses them.”
“I can understand that. My parents didn’t really like that I wanted to go into photography. Said it wasn’t practical. They were right, but I’m never going to tell them that.”
Sam chuckled. “Yeah, I can see that. But you have a job that you like, and gallery space.”
“And a studio apartment that doesn’t even have room for a dining table.”
“What’s your place look like?” Sam asked. Ben had seen his. He knew where Sam lived. But Sam had no idea what kind of place Ben lived in.
“You know The English, over on North Shadwell? I live on the second floor.”
The street wasn’t exactly in the best neighborhood, but it was hardly like it was on the south side of town, and from everything that Sam had heard, the building was fairly nice. At the very least, it was well-kept.
“I pass it every time I go out to the mall. That place is tiny.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. And try sleeping in on a Sunday when it’s right off the parkway. People coming in, horns honking.”
“That sucks. Ever thought about moving somewhere else?”
Ben shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s the cheapest rent I could find. Not all of us have trust funds to fall back on if we need them.”
Sam turned his head so quickly he jerked the car to the side, fully prepared to launch into him, but Ben was grinning.
“Sorry,” he said, still smiling. “Couldn’t resist. But no, if I moved, it would have to be back in with my parents, and I couldn’t do that to them.”
“Yeah, no I get it.”
Not from experience, but he had seen Faith go through the same thing, trying to find the cheapest rent possible in a relatively safe neighborhood.
They passed the next few minutes sharing snacks, before the silence got to be too much for Sam. He turned on the radio, ‘80s music blaring.
“Sorry!” Quickly, he turned the volume down.
Ben raised a brow. “You’re a hard rock kind of guy?”
“You knew I was rebellious. What better way to rebel than blasting Black Sabbath from my bedroom while my parents were trying to have a dinner party?”
“You little maverick, you.”
There was that flirty tone again, the one that Sam didn’t know how to read. He knew how he wanted to read it., and what he wanted Ben to feel toward him. But he couldn’t risk their somewhat-friendship for something that was probably just in his head. That didn’t mean he couldn’t test the waters a little bit.
“You’d be surprised how many private school boys liked the bad boy.”
“Oh no I wouldn’t. I didn’t go to a private school, but if they’re anything like public schools, I’m not surprised at all.”
Sam felt his cheeks go warm. Did Ben fall for the bad boy in high school?
“So when did you come out to your parents?” Ben asked, and Sam blinked at the non-sequitur.
“When I was a freshman in high school. They didn’t believe me at first. I don’t blame them. They thought it was just another way of rebelling. It took a couple of years for them to accept that was just who I was.”
“And they never tried to pressure you into liking girls after that?”
He shook his head. “Nah, they aren’t like that. They’re rich and snobbish, but they’re liberal snobs. The kind who always say they would have voted for Barack Obama a third time if they could have. What about you? When did you come out to your folks?”
If Ben was going to ask personal questions, then so was he. It might be his only chance to get to know the guy who had fascinated him for a year.