Page 90 of Something Like Summer
“Go see Jace tomorrow.Don’t call him, just go over there, look him in the eye, and talk.That’s all.”
Ben nodded.
The next day he began thedrive to Jace’s apartment, but then he imagined telling Jace thathe had slept with Tim. Jace would probably confess his owninfidelities then, which would hurt almost as bad. The entirescenario sounded heart wrenching. Ben just couldn’t face it.Allison would want a full report if he went back home, so insteadhe drove to Tim’s house.
No one was home, but Benfound the sliding door in the back unlocked. He let himself inafter allowing Chinchilla to potty in the yard. Entering the silenthome felt like unearthing a tomb that had been sealed forcenturies, one full of potential treasures and traps. As much asBen felt he knew Tim, he always had the nagging sensation thatthere were details he didn’t know, too many thoughts kept hidden.As Ben explored the house, he knew that he was searching for thoseanswers.
One thing stood out.Despite the house being full of art, none of it was Tim’s. Even intheir youth Tim had one of his paintings on his bedroom wall. Maybethis was a hobby he didn’t pursue anymore, but Ben found that hardto believe. Surely he had a studio hidden awaysomewhere.
Ben explored the house fromtop to bottom and turned up nothing. While looking out thestaircase windows he spotted the garage. Tim never parked his carinside, even though he still fawned over his vehicle like a belovedpet. Ben tried the door on the side of the boxy building, but itwas locked. This led to another search. Finally he found a set ofkeys in a kitchen drawer, and one worked.
The garage was flooded bynatural light from a skylight. Except for a clear area in thecenter where a lone easel stood, the rest of the room was linedwith paintings, stacked three or four deep. Tim had been a busyboy!
Ben began looking throughhis work. Some pieces he recognized from the past; others were new.Tim’s painting had become much more expressive. Some were wild anddaring, with shocks of vivid color dominating the canvas. Otherswere dark, small, and claustrophobic. Is that how Tim felt when hehid from the world? Or were they from his time alone after Eric haddied?
Then there was a thirdstyle found in only a handful of paintings. These containedelements of realism, usually an object in the center that wassurrounded by small wisps of color, making it glow with an ethericlight. Ben had never seen anything like it before.
The painting on the easelwas done in such style. It featured an older man who looked sicklyand tired. This was no doubt Eric, but bathed in the radiance ofTim’s new technique, he looked more like an angel than a dyingman.
The sound of Tim’s carpulling into the driveway snapped Ben out of his thoughts. Hehurried out the door, which was thankfully on the opposite side ofthe building, just before he was spotted.
“Wow,” Tim grinned. “Thinkhard enough about something and it’ll come true.”
“What do youmean?”
Tim took him upstairs tohis bedroom and showed him. Afterwards, Ben lay with his head onTim’s chest, idly finger-tracing the lines and contours that shapedhis body.
“What are we?” Benasked.
“After that?Exhausted.”
“Seriously.”
“Well,” Tim replied, “I’dlike to think that you’re my boyfriend.”
An unasked question hung inthe air. What about Jace?
“Are you staying in Austinafter you graduate?” Ben asked, changing topics.
“I guess so. I don’treally want to go back to Houston. Do you?”
“No. Do you evervisit?”
Tim shifted underneath him.“For the holidays, yeah.”
“Your parents will besurprised to see me in your life again.”
Tim didn’t say anything.His silence spoke volumes.
“They don’t know you’regay, do they?” Ben prompted.
“Why bother telling them?”Tim said. “They’re hardly a part of my life.”
Ben propped up on an elbowso he could better scrutinize his would-be boyfriend. “You said youcame out!”
“I did! To friends andlots of other people. I don’t tell my family anything aboutme.”
“But what if they foundout?” Ben said. “Last time that almost happened you ditched merather than be discovered.”
