Page 23 of When Ben Loved Tim
She isn’t as against the idea as I am, so I humor her and discuss potential candidates all the way home. We have fun hanging out there, like we always do, until my mom knocks on my bedroom door. I inherited a lot from her, such as the short and slight build. Her shoulder-length hair is blond too, and not just in the summer. Which makes me worry that I inherited my hair from my dad, who doesn’t have much of it left.
“Are you staying for dinner?” my mom asks Allison.
“No thanks, Mrs. B! My dad promised to bring home takeout.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” my mom says with a friendly smile. Her eyes move to mine. “Come set the table after you’ve said goodbye.”
I walk with Allison to where the sidewalk meets the driveway. She lives just around the block. I parked Tim’s car at the halfway point, since it would raise too many questions.
“Don’t forget that we’re hanging out tonight,” I say with an exaggerated wink.
Allison hesitates before nodding. “I’m still cool with that,” she replies, “but I think you should tell your mom about Tim.”
“What?” I recoil from the suggestion. “Why?”
She holds up her palms. “Noteverything. Just tell her that you’ve made a new friend. Because think about it, if things start to sizzle between you guys, and the weekend is coming up…”
I shake my head, still not seeing the big picture.
“You can’t pretend that you’re staying the night at my house,” she clarifies.
Her father would never allow it, even though he knows I’m not interested in women. It finally clicks!
“But Icansay that I’m staying with my new straight buddy,” I breathe, getting it at last. “You’re a genius!”
“I do what I can,” Allison says before we hug and part ways.
I eagerly execute her plan during dinner. I tell my family about the new guy in town while trying to rein in my enthusiasm.
“That’s wonderful, honey!” my mother replies. “I’m glad you’ve made a new friend.” A trace of worry betrays her cheerful demeanor. “Does he know about you?”
“How could he not?” my father asks in confusion. “They’re friends.”
“Obviously,” my mother says patiently. “I mean—”
“Does he know that you’re cursed?” my sister supplies helpfully. That’s how she always refers to my sexual orientation.
“Karen!” our mom says in chastising tones. “Eat your broccoli.”
My sister looks offended by the suggestion. “What am I, five years old?”
“When you talk to your brother that way, it sure sounds like you are,” my mother retorts.
“You’re stillmybaby,” my father says warmly. “And always will be.”
Karen is his favorite. Which is fine. Someone has to actually like her.
I turn to my mom. “Tim knows about me. And he’s cool with it.”
“Good!” my mom says, seeming relieved. “You’ll have to invite him over sometime, so we can meet.”
Not too soon though. She’ll definitely have my number when seeing how hot he is. I can barely wait to refresh my memory. As soon as I’m free, I run to his car and make the short drive over to Tim’s house. I let myself in and find him on the couch in the den. He’s twisted around so he can see the doorway.
“There you are!” he says. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”
“Did you miss me?” I ask.
“Yeah!” he says, thrilling me briefly. “I’m starving.”
