Page 165 of Something Like Winter
Tim grinned. “Popocatépetl.That’s more of a day trip.”
“Oh. How about we ride those boats?”
“We can do that tonight. I don’t want to sit down anymore, do you?”
“I guess not.” Ben glanced around. “I don’t know. It’s all so new that anything will be interesting. You decide.”
“Okay, then. It’s straight into the heart of the city for us.”
They took a train to thePlaza de la Constitucion,a huge empty plaza in the middle of Mexico City. The world’s largest public square was impressive for its size alone, but something about all the concrete felt too militant. Tim considered the plaza an ideal starting place and nothing more. They wandered the city, soaking up the sights and sounds. Tim kept pulling Ben down small side streets to show him buildings that went from impressive to patchwork and weird.
“When I was a kid, this city felt like a wonderland to me,” Tim said. “Have you noticed how nothing really fits a scheme?”
“Yeah.” Ben glanced around. “No more cookie-cutter suburbs and strip malls.”
“Exactly. It’s like architects here just wake up every morning and say, ‘Well, what the hell should we try today?’”
“Some of these buildings look a little homemade,” Ben said carefully.
Tim laughed. “Some of them probably are, but that’s what makes them unique. The possibilities are endless. Wait until you see the more modern buildings here.”
“That’s right. You studied architecture, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, and man was that a buzz-kill. The practical aspects weren’t nearly as cool as my dreams. Maybe if I had lived down here I would have stayed interested, but in the U.S., I felt like I was learning how to build a bigger and better Walmart.”
“But think of all the people who need to buy cheap underwear and cheese in one convenient trip,” Ben teased.
Tim shrugged. “They’ll have to go commando and starve. I like painting better since I don’t have to limit my imagination. Or worry about a roof falling in on people.”
“Painting suits you better, anyway,” Ben said, taking his hand.
“Yeah?”
“I think so. You look like a jock but have the soul of an artist. What more could a guy want?”
“A gorgeous singing voice?”
Ben grinned at this flattery.
“A brave heart?”
Now Ben’s smile faltered. “I’m not so brave.”
“That’s not what I remember. The things you talked a teenage closet case into doing! Need I remind you?”
Ben turned a little red. “No need. I have a very good memory.”
Tim looked him over. “You know, wecouldstill check into that hotel room, just for a little while.”
Ben looked uncomfortable, letting go of Tim’s hand to scratch his nose and not offering it again. He headed toward one of the major streets. “Let’s do some shopping. I think all this walking down back alleys is giving you the wrong idea about me.”
Ben’s tones were jovial, but he wasn’t looking at Tim anymore. “Sounded like the right idea to me,” Tim joked, stepping in at his side, but Ben didn’t laugh.
Talk about mixed signals! What was going on? They were somewhere new, their pasts far behind them, and it sure as hell seemed like Ben was interested. But every time Tim tried to get intimate, it appeared to cause Ben pain. Was it Jace? Had his ghost followed them all the way down here?
“Ben?” Tim reached out and took his hand. “Hold up a minute.”
Ben turned, his expression stopping Tim dead in his tracks. He could read Ben, knew his body language fluently, but Tim had never seen this before. The message Ben’s face conveyed was crystal clear:Not now. We’re not going to talk about this now.
