Page 47 of Something Like Winter
And maybe Ben would have if Bryce hadn’t blocked his way. “What are you doing out here? Looking for some cock to suck?”
Tim clenched his jaw, but it fell open when he heard Ben’s response.
“You’ll have to pull your skanky girlfriend off the football team if you want that. I’m definitely not interested.”
Tim nearly laughed, but then Bryce grabbed Ben by the shirt and yanked him forward. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
“What did you say?” Bryce shouted, spittle splattering Ben’s face.
“Leave him alone,” Tim said, moving forward to break it up.
“He called my girlfriend a slut!” Bryce snarled.
“Technically,” Ben replied, “I said she was skanky. She’s also a brain-dead snob, but I guess that’s your common bond, isn’t it?”
Bryce dropped Ben, causing him to stumble, and hauled back his fist. Tim barely got there in time, pushing himself between them.
Bryce eyed him like a bull seeing red. “What the fuck?”
“Forget him,” Tim said. “Let’s just go.”
Bryce considered him a second longer, then with surprising speed, shoved Tim aside with his left arm and brought a right hook around. But Tim wasn’t the target. He heard a sound like a fleshy thunderclap before Ben hit the ground.
That piece of shit! Tim leapt like a tiger, his insides a volcano. He got two punches to Bryce’s face while he was still airborne, and had only landed on his feet for a second before a meaty fist crunched into his nose. Seeing stars, Tim punched blindly, connecting with what felt like Bryce’s thick neck. Then his right eye closed instinctively before being struck twice. It was like getting hit by a car! Tim put everything into his next swing, knowing he didn’t have too many left, and—bull’s-eye!—hit Bryce on the side of the head, his class ring connecting with his temple.
Bryce groaned, swayed on his feet, then hit the ground. Tim wasn’t leaving anything to chance. He leapt on top of Bryce and kept on swinging.
“Get off my cousin!” he heard Trey yell from behind, but no one tried to pull him off. He turned to see Ben plowing into Trey. Unlike Bryce, Trey was just a normal-sized guy, but Ben was smaller than most. Tim winced as Trey elbowed Ben in the face, knocking him down. He was on his feet when Ben counterattacked, punching Trey in the nuts. Ben was still kicking, punching, and screaming when Tim grabbed his wrist.
“Run!”
For once Ben listened. They took off down the path, this time staying together. A couple of twists and turns and they were in familiar territory. Tim followed Ben’s lead, and before long they were standing in the Bentleys’ driveway, clutching at their stomachs and trying to catch their breath. Tim raised his head at the same time Ben did, their eyes meeting. Then they laughed.
“Thanks,” Ben panted.
Tim shook his head ruefully. “You and your big mouth.”
Ben chuckled, his puppy-dog eyes wet with joy before they softened. “Do you want to come inside?”
Yeah. More than anything in the world. But the bloody nose and the soon-to-be bruises were nothing like the pain Tim had felt that night in his backyard. And Ben, so much better than he was, so fearless with his love, must have suffered even more. Tim would only hurt him again, hurt them both. The judgmental world around them hadn’t changed. Nothing had.
“Goodbye, Benjamin.”
Despite the heat of summer, when Tim turned away, he was certain he could feel the chill of winter inside his chest.
* * * * *
The phone kept ringing. Tim rolled over and put a pillow over his head to drown out the noise, wincing at the pressure on his bruises. His nose was the worst, swollen up like an apple in the center of his face. The answering machine kicked in, and a previous version of himself— sounding cocky and self-assured because the world still belonged to him —asked the caller to leave a message.
“Look,” Stacy said after the beep, “you can either pick up the phone, or I’m coming over there.”
Tim sighed, tossed the pillow away, and grabbed the phone.
“What?”
Stacy recovered quickly. “You know you’ve committed social suicide, right?”
Tim sighed. “I’m hanging up.”
