Chapter Five
Tim’s night in the hospital passed in a welcome haze of painkillers. He got his X-rays, then his cast, and flirted with every nurse who came in the room—reveling in the giggles of the younger girls, and the barely-suppressed smiles of the older ladies. As much fun as he was having, he dreaded the next morning. Ben would bring the phone number of his parents’ hotel, and from there, history would repeat itself.
Tim was thirteen when his parents cancelled a trip to Japan because he had come down with the flu. At first he was glad they decided to stay home, still young enough that it bugged him when they took trips alone. Instead of fawning over him at his bedside and catering to his every need, his parents treated him as an inconvenience, remaining bitter until they were able to reschedule their trip.
He understood now that the vacations his parents took together were a way of recapturing the childless life they had once planned. As far as Tim was concerned, he was a mistake. His parents never talked of having another child. They still loved him, when they found the time, but he had learned long ago not to ask for too much or get in the way.
As the morning progressed, he tried to imagine what their reaction to his accident would be. Even worse, what if Ben called them to explain? This was the first question out of his mouth when Ben showed up at the hospital.
“Did you call my parents?”
“No,” Ben started to say, but when Dr. Baker came in the room, he changed his answer. “Yes. They don’t think they can change their flight, but they’ve arranged for a nurse to take care of you and everything.”
That didn’t sound so bad, if it was true. The doctor asked Ben for their number, which he had rather conveniently forgotten to bring along. Dr. Baker seemed to share this suspicion, but he checked his watch and gave Ben a quick earful about everything Tim would need. After being presented with crutches and making a quick trip to the hospital pharmacy for pills, Tim let Ben wheel him outside to the car. He insisted they do a loop around the Mitsubishi before they got in so he could check for damages. Amazingly, he didn’t find a scratch.
Once behind the wheel, Ben was pensive. With Tim starting to feel his most recent dose of pain medication, they didn’t talk much on the way home. When they arrived, Tim made use of the crutches, swinging up the driveway so fast that Ben had to rush to keep up.
“I feel like Tarzan,” Tim said.
“Or his chimp,” Ben retorted. “Wait up. I’ll get the door for you.”
“Thanks.” Tim watched him fumble with the keys. Ben shot him a nervous look, as if concerned about messing up such a simple task. Not that Ben didn’t steal little glances at him at other times. Tim was used to girls finding him attractive, but now he wondered what other guys thought. Gay guys, obviously. Corey had expressed interest, but that whole situation had been weird. Of course, so had Ben’s knowledge of where Tim lived.
As soon as Tim was inside and seated on the peach-colored couch, Ben stood in front him nervously. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
For a moment, Tim thought Ben was about to confess his feelings. The idea made him both uncomfortable and excited.
“It seemed kind of pointless to worry your parents for nothing,” Ben said instead. “Or mine. It’s just a sprained ankle, right? A nurse seemed overboard too. I mean, we can call one now if you really want. Or I can just take care of you.”
Tim stared at him. “So, no nurse?”
“No nurse.”
“And you never called my parents? They have no idea I was in the hospital overnight?”
Now Ben looked guilty. “They have no idea.”
Tim relaxed. He would have thanked him, if this whole mess wasn’t Ben’s fault in the first place. Ben was more than willing to make up for it. He promised to swing by every day to cook and clean. So Tim would have a nurse. One who would destroy his reputation at school if anyone found out, but for now he was so relieved his parents weren’t involved that he didn’t care.
But if they were going to do this, they were going to do it right. Tim stood with a little wobbling and crutched his way to his father’s den in the back of the house. Maybe the room couldn’t compete with the set-up Darryl’s father had, but it was still nice. Everything was dark wood, brown leather, and most of all, comfortable.
“I figure this is a good place to make camp,” Tim said, settling down on the couch. He nodded at the wet bar. “There’s even a fridge to keep drinks in.”
“So what all do we need?” Ben glanced around. “Blankets and pillows obviously… Um…”
“In one of the hall closets,” Tim said. “I want my pillow from upstairs. And some real clothes. Throw something in the oven too, will ya?”
“Right.”
Tim turned on the TV, allowing himself a chuckle once Ben left the room. He would cut Ben loose after today. Tim figured he was trying to make amends or searching for an excuse to be around. Either way, Tim could take care of himself. But for now, he only wanted to kick back and relax. He flipped through the channels, settling on music videos.
Soon the smell of pizza filled the house. When Ben came into the room with two plates loaded with slices, Tim was nearly drooling in anticipation. They watched videos together, poking fun at all the bad ones and flipping between VH1 and MTV to avoid commercials. When they had finished eating, Ben took the plates to the kitchen, then hurried back and plopped on the couch. Tim was about to change back to MTV when Ben made him stop.
“Wait! I love this song!”
Tim had heard it plenty of times already. The radio stations were going crazy playing The Fugees’ Killing Me Softly, but the song had never caught his ear before. Nor had the silky male voice that came in halfway through.
Tim looked to his left, jaw dropping. Ben was singing, but not how other people crooned along with real music. Ben’s voice was studio sweet, sounding so perfect that Tim wanted to snap at Lauryn Hill to be quiet so he could hear better.
Instead Tim covertly turned down the TV’s volume, which wasn’t hard since Ben’s eyes were locked on his. Gone was any sign of passive interest or furtive glances. Ben’s full attention was on Tim now as he sang. And it was beautiful. Scratch that, Ben was beautiful. Forget Darryl’s money, Stacy’s cunning, or Bryce’s muscles. Ben had the voice, and that should have made him the most popular guy in school because it was so damn hot! Girls should be heartbroken over him, and guys should be doing everything to be more like him.
Then the song ended and Ben looked away, his cheeks a little red. Tim stared dumbfounded for a couple more seconds before he clapped and cheered, happy to make an ass of himself.
“You can sing!”
“Yeah,” Ben said with a nervous chuckle. “I do all right.”
“Why don’t you do that all the time? I mean, if I had a voice like yours, I would sing everything instead of talking like normal people do.”
Ben laughed. “That might get ooooold after a whiiiile!” he sang opera style.
Okay, so maybe that sounded dumb, but Tim wanted to hear Ben belt out a real song again. “Do this one!” he said, turning the volume up a little.
“It’s the Beastie Boys,” Ben said. “They aren’t singing, they’re rapping. Or whining. Wait until a song like the last one comes on. Hey, have you ever heard the original Killing Me Softly?”
Tim shook his head.
“Roberta Flack! She’s a goddess. I’ll play that version for you sometime. Then you won’t think I have a good voice. I get goose bumps every time I hear it.”
Tim had goose bumps still, so he tried to chill out and stop acting like a groupie. They watched another couple of videos together until one came on that Ben liked. Then he started singing again, this time with his eyes closed, and Tim felt those same feelings come rushing back. It hadn’t just been the song or the moment. That voice was freaking magical! Tim really couldn’t understand why Ben wasn’t more popular. Maybe it was the gay thing, but surely people would forgive Ben for anything if they could hear him sing.
Once the song was over, Tim did his best not to gush. “Are you in choir or anything like that?”
Ben nodded.
“So people at school have heard you sing.”
“Yeah, but usually just the people who go to recitals. I also sang in the talent show freshman year.”
And the school didn’t worship him? Ben sang another song for him—at least it felt that way—and once he was finished, Tim shut off the TV. Then he asked the question that kept popping up in his mind. “So what’s it like being gay?”
“Like anything else, I guess. What’s it like to be whatever you are?”
“Straight,” Tim said firmly before getting back on track. “Don’t you catch a lot of flack for it? I mean, everyone at school knows, right?”
“Yup.”
“I’m surprised you don’t get your ass kicked every day.”
“I get a lot of crap.” Ben shrugged like it didn’t matter. “But I got crap before I came out for totally different reasons. It’s no different now. Not really.”
“True, true.” Tim nodded sagely. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Like you would know! It must be hard being a jock with rich parents and a brand-new sports car. People must tease you mercilessly.”
Tim grinned in response. “When you put it like that, I do have it good, but I still get crap from people. Miss a catch or don’t make it to base and your team turns on you, especially if you lose the game.”
Ben looked unconvinced. Tim would have to give him more. Being popular wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and if Ben only knew what had gone down in Kansas—
Tim could tell him. Doing so would mean summoning up the past. Speaking those words here, even just once, could mean they were repeated again and again until they ruined Tim. But surely Ben understood what it was like to be an outcast.
“How about this?” The smile dropped from Tim’s face. “At my last school my ex-girlfriend went around telling everyone that I raped her, just because I dumped her. I had every girl in the school coming up to me and saying the craziest shit. A few even tried to knee me. It was insane.”
Ben seemed more curious than judgmental. “What happened?”
“What do you mean? Nothing happened. It was her word against mine, but she didn’t take it to the police or anything because she knew the truth. It blew over after a while, but people never treated me the same afterwards. You don’t know how glad I am to have a fresh start.”
Ben sighed. “The idea sounds appealing.”
“Would you still come out? If you moved to the other side of the country where no one knew, would you come out again?”
“Yeah,” Ben answered immediately. “Are you kidding me? What would I do otherwise? Pretend I’m into girls and start sleeping with them?”
Tim felt uncomfortable, like he was being accused of doing just that. Maybe because being with Krista involved so much pretending.
“I’d definitely come out again,” Ben continued. “It’s the only chance I have at meeting another gay guy. It pays to advertise. That’s the theory at least.”
“No luck in the romance department?”
“Not really. Not love at least.”
The cuckoo clock his parents had brought back from Germany sprang to life, the little bird tweeting the hour.
“Jesus, I should get home.” Ben started pulling on his shoes. “Are you going to be all right? There’s drinks and stuff in the fridge and leftover pizza on the counter. Should I bring it in?”
Tim fought down a grin. “Naw, I can manage.”
“I thought I’d come by in the morning to make breakfast and check on you, and then again in the afternoon?”
“Yeah?” Tim meant to tell Ben that he could manage on his own, but instead he said, “You’d do that for me?”
“That and a hell of a lot more.” Ben laughed, like he was joking, but they both knew he wasn’t. “Uh, so see you tomorrow then.”
He practically ran for the door, probably embarrassed by his confession, but Tim didn’t mind. It was quite the compliment. If Tim was a girl… Well, that was just a weird thought. But if things were different, he would be thrilled that someone like Ben was interested in him. At least, more thrilled than he already was.
* * * * *
Ben was the first thing Tim saw every morning, since the painkillers made him sleep deeply. Usually Tim was roused, back aching from sleeping on the leather couch in the den, and Ben would look at him in that funny way—like this was all too good to be true. Then Ben would hurry off and make breakfast. Tim was served pancakes the first day, fried eggs the next. Today was only frozen waffles, so he must have really been in a rush.
“It’s nine thirty,” Tim said when Ben set the plate on the coffee table. “Aren’t you missing school?”
“Well, yeah.” Ben checked his watch. “It’s okay though. Allison, my best friend, has the inside scoop. They only take attendance in second period; otherwise they’d get false positives from the people who are late in the morning. Before or after that, I’m in the clear. Sort of. Teachers will start asking questions eventually, which is why I’m going to most of my classes.”
Tim gave him the smile, the one usually reserved for girls who did something he liked. That always caused them to melt, and to his amusement, it worked on Ben as well. Seeing a guy react like that was somehow more satisfying. Tim had already won the affection of more girls than he had time for, but getting another guy to look so flustered felt like a new achievement.
“At least tomorrow is Saturday. Have any big plans?”
“Well, maybe,” Ben said.
“I see.” Tim put on a pouty face. “You’re leaving me here to fend for myself.”
“I was going to cook you a real meal. No frozen pizzas or quick breakfasts. But come to think of it, I might be too busy. I can’t waste all my time on straight boys.” Ben winked. “I’m sure you understand.”
“I’ll make it worth your while,” Tim said. Of course he had no intention of doing so, but he loved flirting.
“Like what?” Ben pressed.
“I’ll let you smell my socks.” A pillow smacked into Tim’s face, and when he moved it away, Ben was on his way to the door. Tim called after him. “And I’ll let you keep using my car, you thief!”
So it went. The days were lonely until Ben was out of school. Then Ben would spend all his free time with him, Tim grateful for every second because the days could get long and boring. Besides, Ben took good care of him. The cooking and cleaning was enough, but he also did laundry, even though Tim hadn’t asked him to. Ben ran baths for him too, Tim having to bathe with the cast propped up on the tub’s edge. Once, during their first weekend together, he even let Ben keep him company in the bathroom while he bathed. The shower curtain had been pulled, of course, but not completely, since the way Ben snuck looks at his body definitely wasn’t bad for Tim’s ego.
In a way, they were like an old married couple not interested in sex anymore. At least Tim wasn’t. Not even thoughts of scoring with Krista could rouse his appetite. Maybe the pills were to blame for that. The constant drowsiness was starting to annoy him, so after being on them nearly two weeks, Tim decided to quit. He was out of the pills anyway, and not having them refilled would give Ben less to complain about, since Tim had fallen asleep early the last couple of nights.
When the phone rang Thursday afternoon, Tim grinned as he reached for it. Most likely it was Ben, worrying about what they were going to have for dinner. “What’s up, sweet cheeks?”
“Hey man, where you been?”
The voice was unmistakable, possessing the smooth confidence of the rich and popular.
“Hey! Darryl! Didn’t Krista tell you?”
“Krista? Don’t you mean sweet cheeks?”
Tim choked but managed to make it sound like a laugh. “Yeah. I thought she’d be calling. Anyway, she didn’t fill you in?”
“She did. Your ankle is jacked up, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Krista had called last week, but Tim had only told half the truth, saying his parents weren’t letting him go out. He wasn’t sure why he lied. Maybe because he was enjoying the easy evenings with Ben. Now the idea of hanging out with the guys, sneaking a few beers after school at Darryl’s place, sounded nice. As did the attention Krista normally lavished on him.
“We thought you’d be back by now,” Darryl pressed. “Bryce broke his arm last year and only got a few days off.”
Tim probably wouldn’t have gotten that much if his parents had been in town. “I’m milking it, man. I should be back on Monday.”
“Krista says she hasn’t seen you. Want me to send her over for a get-well hand job?”
Tim snorted. “I mentioned my parents are Catholic, right?”
“Ah,” Darryl responded as if this explained everything.
“Besides, she’s a prude.”
Darryl laughed. “Surely she’s not that much of a prude! Maybe you’ve been playing it too safe.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Tim’s cock twitched at the idea. Yup, those pills had definitely kept his libido down.
“All right, get well soon, I guess. Ciao!”
“Peace.”
Tim hung up and sat in silence. Something about the call made him nervous. Hearing from Darryl was like a wake-up call. His parents were due back on Sunday. After that, it was back to reality. Playing house with Ben had been fun, but Tim couldn’t see this world and the one he had known coming together.
Unless he could bring Ben with him somehow, get his friends to appreciate him. But how? He couldn’t imagine Bryce being moved by Ben’s singing, and exposing Ben to Stacy Shelly and Darryl Briscott wouldn’t be doing him any favors. Tim didn’t mind them, but by comparison, Ben was too nice and innocent.
Except for the gay thing, which was pretty wild, but that was another problem. Ben didn’t keep a low profile, and if Tim’s parents found out, they would flip. No, there was only the weekend left, and then it was as good as over. All he could do was try to enjoy what time remained.
Despite his best efforts, Tim felt moody when Ben showed up. The fridge was getting empty, so Ben had brought fast food with him, but Tim only picked at it. Afterwards they hung out on the couch, Tim increasingly sick of being there. Without the pills, it wasn’t just sex that he missed. Painting, running, driving—anything sounded better than more television. He switched off the TV and tossed aside the remote with a sigh.
“You okay?” Ben asked.
“Not really.” Tim pushed himself up. “Let’s go for a walk or something.”
“The way you swing around on those crutches, I’d never keep up with you.” Ben chewed his lip, searching for inspiration. “How about the back patio? You guys have a nice yard. We can hang out there.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Tim wasn’t sold on the idea until they were outside. A nice stretch of lawn—made secluded by strategically placed trees instead of a fence—awaited them. The bugs were humming a mellow tune, nearly drowning out the neighborhood air conditioners that clicked on and off in the distance. Ben helped Tim get settled into one of the wooden lawn chairs, adjusting the pillows for him. Then Ben lit the Tiki torches, and in the dwindling daylight, Tim found himself relaxing.
“Grab me a beer from inside, and this will be paradise.”
Ben hesitated. “Won’t your parents notice?”
“I don’t care. Get one for yourself too.”
Ben came back with only one can of beer, which he handed to Tim.
“Thanks.” He cracked it open and took a sip. Yeah, not bad at all.
They sat together in silence—just what Tim needed. That’s something else Ben was good at. He could read Tim’s moods like nobody else. Krista was a nonstop chatter box, but Ben was content to just hang out with him. Not that it was fair to keep comparing them, but it was hard not to. If things were just a little different, if Tim was gay or if Ben was a girl, he would be walking down the halls with Ben hanging off his arm. The thought made him laugh.
“What?” Ben asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking about school.”
“You miss it?”
“Are you kidding?” Tim took another swig and set the beer down on the patio. “I wouldn’t go again if I had a choice.”
Ben scrunched up his face. “Weird.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, I just figured that you’d like it more. I mean, you’re popular.”
Tim drew out his reply to make it all the more sarcastic. “Which is so… very… fun.”
“Isn’t it?” Ben challenged. “I have one real friend, and hanging out with Allison is the only thing that makes school tolerable. Without her, I’d go crazy.”
“So what’s your point?”
“Well, you have way more friends, so it would be like having more Allisons. That sounds like a good time to me.”
Tim laughed, but inside he wondered if he was missing something. Multiply the Darryls and Bryces, or even the Carlas and Brodys from back home, and it sounded like one giant headache. His friends kept him entertained and made him feel important, but they could also be tiring. They were just as demanding in their needs as he was, and probably felt the same way about him.
“Let me tell you a secret,” Tim said. “Popular people are insecure as hell. All they worry about is staying on top and being loved by everybody. To do that, they obsess about what everyone thinks of them. Most are downright desperate for any vote of approval they can get.”
“Present company excluded.”
Tim was sure Ben meant it as a compliment and not a jab, but he shook his head. “I’m just as bad, and I can’t even tell you why. Popular kids are just a powerful union of needy, insecure losers. Remember that next time someone stupid like Bryce mouths off to you. You’re better than them, Benjamin. You don’t have to be anything but yourself.”
Ben looked embarrassed, but he flashed Tim a goofy smile. And it made Tim sad, because he had been telling the truth. Come Monday, his life would center around keeping up appearances, because he needed people to love him. Maybe he didn’t get enough from his parents, or maybe he was just pathetic, but Tim lived for admiration. He’d been milking Ben for it the past two weeks, which probably wasn’t fair.
Tim rubbed his neck and sighed. He needed to go running. “Once this cast is off, I’ll never sit down again.”
“Do you want a massage?”
Tim was about to give a snarky response, thinking it was their usual fruitless flirtation, but Ben looked serious.
“Put the seatback down and flip over,” Ben said. “Trust me, I give great massages.”
Why not? Tim leaned the chair flat and rolled over, the foot of his cast banging against the patio, but he was doing so much better that it barely hurt. Ben sat on the side of the chair and started kneading the muscles at the base of Tim’s neck.
“So you’ve done this a lot?” Tim asked, wanting to keep their conversation going.
“Nope. First time.”
Tim lifted his head. “But you said—”
“Yeah, well, I say a lot of things.” Ben laughed and started kneading harder, forcing Tim to put his head back down.
Maybe Ben lacked experience, but the massage sure felt good! He worked the area between Tim’s shoulder blades next, then squeezed Tim’s deltoids a few times, slowly kneading his way toward the lower back. Tim shifted in the seat, his shorts tight.
Fuck.
He was hard or very nearly there. Another guy was touching him, and his stupid dick had responded. Part of him was tempted to roll over. He knew it would make Ben happy but—holy shit!—what did this say about him?
“All right,” Tim said. “That’s enough.”
Ben kept massaging.
“Fucking stop!”
Ben’s hands lifted away. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Tim kept his head turned away from Ben, his line of vision nearly level with the beer can dripping condensation on the patio stones. Beyond, the flame of a Tiki torch danced, sending strange shadows across the grass. Tim scowled. Maybe things had gone too far. He pushed himself up on his elbows. “I’m tired,” he said, without looking at Ben. “You should go.”
“Oh. Okay.” Ben stood up, but he didn’t go anywhere. What did he expect? To be walked to the door? When Tim didn’t move, still didn’t look at him, Ben took the hint. The sound of his footsteps went to the house. Tim heard the sliding glass door open, but didn’t hear it close. He could picture Ben standing there, looking back at him and wondering what he had done wrong. He must have been right, because Ben spoke.
“So, do you still want me to come by tomorrow?”
No! Of course not. That’s why I’m sending you away! But Tim couldn’t bring his lips to shape these words. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
When Tim heard the car drive away a few minutes later, he got up and struggled with his crutches. Once inside he would jack off. He hadn’t done that since he was injured, which was crazy. Pent up hormones could make just about anything sound like a good idea.
Tomorrow would be different. Tim would start taking care of the house himself, become self-sufficient again. Ben was a good guy, but he wasn’t his freaking girlfriend. Tim wouldn’t punish Ben for what was his own fault, but after this weekend, playtime was over.