Page 114 of Something Like Winter
“No. I can handle it.”
Tim let him go downstairs, staying in bed and thinking it all over. They needed more than this, more than sex to renew their closeness. Maybe he really should take Ben to his parents, correct the mistakes of the past. He could even find Krista Norman and patiently explain to her that he had loved Ben all along. Is that what Ben needed?
Tim got out of bed, put on his boxers, and headed downstairs. The kitchen wasn’t full of sizzling meat or rattling pot lids. Nothing had been disturbed. Ben stood leaning against the counter, doing nothing.
“What’s going on?”
Ben straightened up, heading for the refrigerator. “I was just about to start. Hey, you went shopping!”
“Seriously,” Tim said, walking to him. “Just tell me.”
Ben turned around and sighed. “Look, I know you’re secretive. I remember that about you, and I know you need time to open up.”
Tim raised his hands in defense. “I’m not hiding anything.”
Ben glanced toward the window, and Tim was sure. Ben had been snooping in the garage. “You mean my paintings?”
“Why are they all stuffed in the garage like that?”
“It’s my studio.”
“And it’s full of finished paintings. You practically live in a castle. Hang a few up!”
Tim stared at him. “Seriously? You’re mad that I’m not full of myself and don’t surround myself with my own art?”
Ben’s shoulders slumped. “No. I’m not. I’m just scared that history will repeat itself.” He looked up at Tim. “I’m falling in love with you again. Or I never stopped being in love. I don’t know. It’s so confusing, and everything feels so intense, even more so than when we were younger. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Tim said, voice hoarse. He knew.
“Just think how much more it’ll hurt when it doesn’t work out.”
“You say that like it’s a certainty.”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t mean to. Look, just promise me that I can trust you. That whatever secrets you have can’t hurt us.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” Tim lied. How could he ever confess what he and Aaron had done? But Ben needed more, like he always did. “Earlier, in bed, you asked about the scar on my arm.”
Ben nodded “You said it was a mistake, whatever that means.”
“Yeah. A mistake. His name was Travis.”
Tim took a deep breath and told Ben his story.
* * * * *
His contemporary art final completed, Tim walked out the classroom door, wishing he could magically end up on stage to accept his diploma. His college education was at an end, assuming he passed. He was certain he’d squeaked by, at the very least. Despite still not knowing what to do with his future, he felt a sense of pride for buckling down and getting through it all, especially in the last year when Eric’s money made dropping out a strong temptation.
“How’d you do?” Aaron said outside in the hall.
Tim had been hoping to avoid him. He had plans to meet Ben for lunch, but he could spare a few minutes. “On the final? No problem. You?”
“I’m sure I passed, not that it matters.”
“Taking my money to the nearest beauty school?”
Aaron laughed. “Something like that. How’s it going with Ben?”
“Good.” Tim nodded slowly. “I think we’re getting there.”
