Page 27 of When Ben Loved Tim
He looks at me funny before laughing. And proveshispoint by pushing himself up to a standing position without my help. “I’m seriously hyped,” he says.
“You don’t even know where we’re going.”
“Yeah, and I don’t care. I need a change of scenery. And my left shoe.” He looks at me with expectation.
“Not so independent after all,” I say with a smirk.
All he does is smile, which quite frankly, would be enough to make me do his homework for the rest of high school, and his taxes for the rest of his life. I try to hide this behind a weary sigh. “Be right back.”
I run upstairs for a single sock and grab one of his blue shoes when passing the entryway on my way back. I watch him put these things on before he announces that he needs to use the restroom. As soon as I’m alone in the den, I begin searching for the black book. Tim isn’t very mobile. It couldn’t have gone far. I just need to know if I’m wasting my time. I’ll still help him until his parents get back, since I’m the one who knocked him into a ditch, and I’ll keep being his friend. But I’ll try not to feel as much for him if all he’s written about is his new platonic buddy.
I’m shoving my hand between the couch cushions when my fingers hit something hard. The shape and size is right. Sure enough, it’s the book I saw earlier! Before I can second-guess myself, I crack it open. The first page is bare, but the inside cover has the year written in one corner. I glance up to make sure I’m still alone before flipping through, starting from the back, so I can find the most recent page that isn’t blank. When I do, ink fills the white space, wild lines zipping back and forth to form a sketch of a young man. I stare at a face so beautiful that I almost fail to recognize it as my own. I notice a few telltale details around the drawing of me, like the outline of a cabinet door, and remember the way Tim studied me while he was taking the first bath I ran for him. Was it for this? And is that really how I look to him?
“You know what I was thinking?” I hear Tim say from the hall, so I quickly shut the book and shove it between the couch cushions. “Instead of you having to cook or whatever,” he continues when entering the room, “we can get dinner out. My treat.”
“That would be great!” I say with burning cheeks.
He notices. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just—” I try to think of something embarrassing enough to explain my blush. “—farted.”
“Happens to the best of us,” Tim says with a cackle. “I’ll stay over here until the room clears. Unless you’re ready to go.”
“I am.” My face continues to burn on the way to the garage. That’s what I get for sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. The man of my dreams made me look beautiful in a drawing, and I responded with fictitious flatulence. If he ever sketches me again, it’ll probably be cartoonish and involve a fart cloud.
“I’m so ready for this!” Tim says after we pull out into the street.
“Me too,” I reply, even though part of me feels like making an excuse to park and go inside his house again, because I need more information. Maybe he draws everyone like that. Krista, Bryce, Stacy, and Darryl. The sketchbooks I saw in his underwear drawer might be filled with the faces of his family and friends. And maybe they all look hotter as sketches than in real life. Or maybe he really sees me that way. I glance over and catch him studying me, but he doesn’t try to hide it. Instead he reaches for the stereo.
“Let’s see who you’re singing with today,” Tim says.
I blush again, this time with a smile, because all that matters to me is who I am singingto.
Chapter Seven
We’re nearing our destination when Tim turns down the stereo and sighs. “It’s good we’re doing this now. The party is almost over.”
I glance in the rearview mirror but fail to spot any drunken guests in the backseat. “Are you kidding?” I reply. “The party is just getting started!”
He grins at this. “You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
“Why bother when we’re almost there?” I’m eager to impress him, even though I don’t have much of a plan. I can only hope that he’ll be moved by nature’s splendor. “And what do you mean the party is almost over?”
Tim makes a face. “I’m going back to school on Monday.”
“Oh.” My stomach sinks. I can already imagine how his friends will react when they find out about this. It won’t take long before they turn him against me. “You could probably get away with staying home for another week,” I venture.
“Nah. My parents come home on Wednesday. It’ll look bad if I haven’t been to school the whole time they were gone.”
“I guess so,” I murmur. “Unless I sprain your other ankle.”
“No thanks!” Tim splutters.
I remain somber. “Are we still going to be friends?”
Tim’s head swivels toward me. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
I size him up before returning my attention to the road. “You’re not worried about your reputation?”
