Page 88 of Something Like Summer
“I love you,too.”
Ben hung up the phone,feeling empty inside. Jace’s suggestion was perfectly reasonable.Unfortunately, it was opposite of what Ben needed. He had expectedJace to say that being apart was too hard, that he was sorry fortheir argument. Instead he seemed to have flipped his emotionalswitch to “off.” Ben couldn’t do that. As he curled up on the bedand cried, he wished more then anything that he could.
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Chapter 25
Three days later and fourfinals were out of the way. The last thing Ben had to worry aboutnow was his thesis. He didn’t understand why they had to be so damnlong. The topic he had chosen was how pronunciation and intonationhad subtly changed over the decades. This theme had seemed a goodway of combining his degree in English literature with his love ofsinging, and while it was interesting, he was tired of trying totrack down the source of every fact. He was tempted to have onesingle source under his references, listed simply as “theinternet.”
Saturday was a scorcher,the heat making work on his thesis twice as grueling as usual. Asif reading his mind, Tim called him on the cell phone.
“Two words,” he began.“Swimming pool.”
He could have said “freeice cubes” and Ben would have come running.
The pool behind the househad an elegant winding shape, edges lined with stained wood, thewalls with decorative tile. Tim, wearing swimming trunks and aplain grey tank top, balanced a serving tray loaded with pitcherand glasses. Chinchilla was busy dragging towels around the edge ofthe pool, growling as if she’d just vanquished a deadly foe. Bensighed, unable to picture a more inviting scene.
“Monsieur,” Tim said as hepoured a glass of Kool-Aid.
Ben took a sip and triednot to wince. The drink mix contained too much sugar, but at leastit was cold. Ben downed the rest before stripping down to histrunks and jumping in the water, Tim cannonballing afterhim.
“This is really nice,” Bensaid, treading water after submerging a couple of times.
“It’s not bad,” Tim said.“Too small to do any laps though, making it a glorifiedbathtub.”
“Whatever you say. Poolsare meant for relaxing, not working out.”
“Working outisrelaxing.”
“Whatever, muscle boy,”Ben teased.
“I don’t remember you evercomplaining.” Tim dove underwater, performing an underwaterhandstand before surfacing again. “Finals out of theway?”
“Yeah,” Bennodded.
“And Jace? You two patchthings up yet?”
Ben turned in the water,not wanting Tim to see the unhappy look on his face. “Kind of theopposite. We’re taking a break.”
“Wow,” Tim said after amoment of silence. “Benjamin Bentley is back on themarket.”
“Not exactly.”
“No?”
“I don’t know.”
Ben let the topic drop. Hedidn’t want to think about it right now. Instead they startedsplashing Chinchilla, who ran around the edge of the pool, barking.She would dodge the water before running back to drink from thepuddles they left behind. Soaking her would have been easy, butthey made sure to miss on purpose. Eventually they tired of thepool, so they retreated to the deck chairs.
“Put some oil on my back?”Tim asked.
Ben snorted. “Could youthink of a more clichéd line?”
“Tried and true,” Timreplied shamelessly. “It’s withstood the test of time for areason.”
“Fair enough.” Ben sat onthe edge of Tim’s deck chair. He was about to squeeze some of theoil onto his back when Tim rolled over.
“Think my front needssome, actually.”
