Page 153 of When Ben Loved Tim
I check the clock and see that it’s true. Then I look at Danny. “This is it.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m glad it’s almost over.”
“Me too. I feel like we should do something special.”
The class gets quieter as we watch the second hand complete another loop.
“Hey,” Danny says. “You don’t have to. I mean, obviously. But I think I’ll always regret it if I don’t try so… Umm…”
I turn my full attention on him. He’s not wearing the hat, since we’re in class, his poofy red hair almost matching the flush of his skin.
Danny licks his lips. Then he flashes a panicked smile. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”
He’s not quiet when asking this. I hear someone snort behind us. Me? I’m already smiling.
“Yeah,” I say, just before my time in high school officially comes to an end. “I’d like that.”
* * * * *
Summer is here again. My bedroom window is open to let in the warm night air. I’m sitting on my bed, staring at a painting of two overlapping hearts, but I’m not alone exactly. Sorrow has become my constant companion. I don’t cry anymore. I’ve tried to accept that it’s over and move on. Which is harder than I ever expected.
I slept with Danny.
We went on our date. I had fun, and it was refreshing, because neither one of us felt the need to hide who we are. When he tried to kiss me, I was honest and told him it was too soon for me to get into another relationship. I didn't want to put him through the agony of having feelings for someone who couldn’t reciprocate. We’re going to different schools anyway. He moves away next month. Allison and I leave not long after that. So even if I’d never met Tim, it wouldn’t have been the right time for us to start something serious. Danny listened patiently while I explained all of this. Then he said…
“That’s okay. But I’d still like to kiss you.”
And so I did. He’s a sweet guy. I have no doubt that he’ll make someone happy. And I definitely made him smile later that night. I don’t have any feelings for Danny, aside from a genuine fondness. I don’t find him very attractive. But I did hope that having sex with him would somehow put distance between me and Tim. Instead it was a reminder of everything that I miss. We had a good time. Sex is sex. But without love, it isn’t much better than staying home and jacking off.
I can tell that Danny has a crush on me. I’ve already explained that we have to go back to being only friends. So no more messing around. He didn’t seem too distraught. We’ve hung out since, and things are cool between us. I can’t say the same about me and Tim. Too much has been left unresolved. I guess that’s part of breaking up. Our show has been unceremoniously canceled. There will be no season finale. I’ll always wonder what happened after we parted ways.
Although I could guess. He’s definitely enrolling in that Catholic school. If his father found out about our slow dance, Tim would have tried to appease him by going there. That was probably inevitable. If not, something else would have tripped us up. I’ve tried to imagine our future if we hadn’t been caught. Living with Tim in another city would have been great until his parents came to town. Like prom at his studio, Tim would’ve gone around hiding anything personal before each of their visits, erasing us from existence. And of course I’d have to go somewhere else while his parents were there—wait by the dumpsters until he gave the all clear. Our relationship would have ended in disaster eventually. I probably dodged a bullet. It’s just a shame that I can’t stop thinking about the gun.
Only a glimmer of hope remains. His key still hangs on a chain around my neck. I could let myself in, like I’ve done before, and get into bed with Tim. That always closed the distance between us, our issues left out in the cold. At least until we returned to the real world. Wouldn’t it be worth the pain? I want to be wrapped in his arms again. I want Tim to fuck me and make promises I know he can’t keep. As messed up as everything got between us, I could fill the summer with him before circumstances force us apart. If this has to end—and it clearly does—then maybe it wouldn’t be the worst way to go.
Or I could return the key. That would finally put the constant temptation to rest.
My eyes move to the stack of clothes folded on top of my dresser. The rented tuxedo. The coat he gave me for Christmas. I stand and gather them up, trapping them beneath an arm. Then I turn to the painting, a lump forming in my throat. I can’t part with it. He’s in my heart anyway. I’ll never be rid of him completely. And it was beautiful. While it lasted.
I breathe in deeply when leaving the house. Bugs serenade me as I walk through my neighborhood, but I don’t sing along with them. Not this time. That music is buried inside me, where it will have to remain. For now. The houses I pass are silent sentinels as I proceed along a familiar route. How often had my pace quickened in anticipation of being with him? Now I idle along, knowing that each step is bringing me closer to the end. When I finally reach his house, I stop and stare from across the street, remembering when I saw him mowing the lawn and how intimidating it was to walk past him. I should keep going now. I’m not sure if I can do this. It might simply be another excuse. Part of me wants to be weak, just so I can have him again.
I press my hand over the key, the cool metal warming against my skin, but it won’t last. I know that now. I just have to accept it. I cross the street and walk to his front door. The key still turns after I slide it into the lock. I almost wish it didn’t. After letting myself in and quietly closing the door behind me, I stand in the entryway, looking up the stairs. I want to linger there and draw this out, but my feet move of their own accord, taking me to him one last time.
The breath is short in my lungs when I let myself in a room awash with moonlight, the shadows blue and hazy around the edges. I freeze when I hear the sheets rustle. Tim is in bed, lying on his side while facing the door. I leave it open so I won’t be tempted to stay and walk closer. The blankets are bundled up around his waist, revealing the bare skin of his torso. How am I ever going to find the strength to do this?
I silently pad over to his dresser and leave the stack of clothes there. I’m tempted to open one of the drawers and take a sketchbook so I’ll always have a piece of his heart. But then, I guess he gave that to me a long time ago. I’m so glad he managed to rise above his fear on occasion, such as my birthday, even though he always got pulled back down again. Those fleeting moments were glorious. I know he tried. I don’t really hate him. It would be so much easier if I did.
I walk to the window with a lump in my throat and look up at the moon. All of this began under its light. How fitting that it will end this way too. I hear the sheets rustle behind me again. I close my eyes, waiting for the sound of his voice to take away my indecision.
Benjamin! What are you doing here? Come get into bed with me.
I would. If he asked. I listen to the sound of his breathing, matching my own to it. Then I open my eyes and turn around. Tim is lying on his back now. I walk around his bed, sitting on the edge of it while angled toward him, like a parent tucking in their child for the night. But my love for him was never so innocent.
I watch his strong chest rise and fall. My gaze moves along the curves of his muscles. I take in every detail, not wanting to forget any of it. The alluring bulge where his legs meet beneath the sheets. The whisps of dark armpit hair. And especially that handsome face. I lean over, wanting to kiss him goodbye. I bring my lips as close to his as I dare without actually touching them. If he wakes up now—if I feel his hand wrap around the back of my neck so his mouth can press against mine—I’ll forgive him. For everything. I’ll make my peace with being a dirty little secret. We’ll spend the rest of our lives together on his terms. I don’t care anymore.
But part of me must. Otherwise I wouldn’t lean back, my heart breaking all over again. I see a different future. A wife and kids for him. A gaggle of nieces and nephews for me. I bet we’ll still smile and laugh. Our friends and family will assume that we’re happy and complete. They won’t know of the pain deep down inside of us that will never heal. I hope it doesn’t, since it’ll be the last thing still connecting us. I reach around my neck and undo the chain. The key spins, reflecting the moonlight, as flashes of everything we were together fill my mind.
The first time I saw him jogging at night. Riding in his car. Kissing him on the beach. The sound of his voice on the phone. Singing for him. Being wrapped up in his arms. Watching him paint. His hands washing me in the shower. The arguments. The words he never spoke.
