Page 29 of Something Like Summer
“Wrong idea?” Benrepeated.
“There’s nothingwrongwith it,” Timbackpedaled. “I just don’t want people thinking I'm gay, when I’mnot.”
It took every ounce ofBen’s willpower to keep his face straight in light of thisstatement. “Okay,” he said. “Not a big deal.”
In reality it was a bigdeal, but he could handle it. If having Tim meant doing everythinggay with him but calling it straight, why not? He could just playit off as some sort of kinky role-playing game. Unless of course,Tim intended that this never happened again. As cliché as thequestion was, Ben couldn’t help but ask, “So are you going to callme?”
“Yeah, totally!” Timanswered enthusiastically. “We’re buds.” The way he stated this wasfriendly, but there was a hint of a silent ‘only’ there in themiddle.
“Cool,” Ben replied. “I’moff, then. Good luck with your parents when they gethere.”
“Good luck with yours! Ihope you won’t be in too much trouble.” Tim reached out and mussedBen’s hair as if he were sending his kid off to school.
Ben left the house with asmile on his face. His future with Tim was uncertain, he was facingthe reaming of his life from his parents, and he was forbidden tosee his best friend, and yet Ben had never been happier.
__________
Chapter 9
The school gymnasium,forever marred by shoe scuffs and perfumed with sweat, was lined onone side by a long hallway. This led either to the locker rooms orinto the gymnasium itself if you pushed open the two swinging doorsset with small windows. These allowed Ben to peer through and seethat volleyball was being played today. Not one of his favoritesports, but not as bad as some of the others. Still, he couldn’tbring himself to enter, even though first period had started twentyminutes ago.
Ben had chosen to skate toschool instead of taking the bus and had arrived late, despite hisintention of attending all of his classes, as he had promised hismother yesterday. When he had arrived home on Sunday, he thought hewould be greeted with screams and punishments. Instead things wereunsettlingly calm. His father had been the first to see him,pulling a comical “look out!” face that warned his wife wasn’t toopleased with their son.
Except his mother hadn’tbeen all that angry. She met Ben in his bedroom, sat down, and verycarefully said, “You are getting to an age where we can’t controlyou anymore. In less than two years you will be living on your own.I hope you will be going to college. If you chose to do so, we willhelp support you. If not, then you are on your own. Until then, youwill go toallofyour classes and you won’t drink or do drugs in thishousehold.”
That was it. He wasn’t evengrounded anymore. His parents had set him free by giving him adultstatus. Ben had almost felt sad after it had happened, like he wasbeing forced to grow up. He quickly moved past those feelings,though. No longer would he have to deal with curfews or tell themwho he was staying with. The new arrangement was ideal for him,which was why he felt horrible that he was breaking his promisealready.
He hated P.E. There wasnothing redeeming about it, and it would never contribute to hishealth or success later in life. If anything, facing the abuse ofthe coaches and his peers threatened to make him jaded andmistrustful of the human race. Why should he waste an hour everyday in a class that made him feel useless and incompetent? Herefused to subject himself to that, no matter theconsequences.
Ben stayed in the hallway,feeling it was a safe place to hide, until the bell rang. Studentswith flushed faces swarmed out of the locker room. He let them passwithout making eye contact, waiting for someone to ask where he hadbeen. It didn’t happen until one of the very last people steppedinto the hall.
“Ben, my man!” Leon calledout happily. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since mywisdom teeth were yanked.”
“I’ve been skipping a lotof classes lately,” Ben confided. “Have the coaches said anythingabout it?”
“Those clueless goons? Ofcourse not. They’re too busy reliving their glory years with thesecond-rate jocks who didn’t make the football team.”
Ben laughed in relief. “Iwonder how long I can get away with this.”
“I don’t know man, butyou’ve got the right idea. Tell you what, if the coaches evernotice you missing, I’ll try to cover for you.”
“Thanks. I owe youone.”
Leon clapped Ben on theshoulder. “Hey, I hear your best friend is dating my bestfriend.”
“Ronnie Adams?” Ben asked.“I didn’t know you guys were friends.”
“Yeah, Ebony and Ivory.That’s our band. Ronnie’s on guitar and I’m on bass. You shouldcome by with Allison sometime, smoke a j and sing. I crooned out afew tunes with your girl already, but I’d love to hear what a realpair of singers can do.”
“Yeah, all right. Soundsfun. Thanks again for covering for me.”
“No problem myman!”
Ben hurried to Englishclass with a weight lifted off his chest. Despite the potentialramifications with his parents, he felt glad not having to worryabout showing up for first period anymore. He would have to findsomething to do, though, now that Tim wasn’t accessible. He kepthis eyes peeled on the way to class, not certain if Tim would be inschool today or not.
In English they had a test,which meant an unwilling competition with Daniel Wigmore, whofinished early and spent the remaining time gawking at Ben whilementally timing how long it was taking him to finish.
In Spanish class a few ofthe kids had come up with a broken Spanish sentence that referredto him as a fat and uglymariposa. This irritated Ben morebecause of its stupidity rather than its offensiveness. He might beamariposa, butthere wasn’t an ounce of fat on him and he certainly wasn’t uglywhen compared to the perpetually awkward idiots who were trying toget a rise out of him.
