Page 5 of When Ben Loved Tim
“Of course, that means you’ll actually have totalkto him,” Allison presses.
“What should I do, go to his house after school as a concerned citizen?”
“If that’s what it takes,” she says. “Or maybe you’ll have a class together. You’ve got three more chances.” She’s fighting down a smile as we sit across from each other. “I umm… might have gotten lucky. Guess who chose to sit next to me in calculus?”
“Was it Tim?” I ask with a straight face.
“No! You have a one-track mind. It was Ronnie.”
I play dumb. “Who?”
Allison arches one of her eyebrows. “Youknowwho he is. You had a crush on him too.”
Which still stings a little, because Allison had ended up dating him sophomore year. Not that I had a chance in hell. Ronnie is straight. He wasn’t one of the guys I messed around with. But that’s when it started to feel weird, because Allison had finally landed her first boyfriend, which convinced me that I would too. And yet, here I am, hopelessly single while she’s gone on to date other guys, my envy increasing with each.
“I thought Ronnie was too immature for you,” I say.
“He was. And maybe he still is.” Allison smirks and shakes her head. “But you should see the boy, because he has gotten fine as hell!”
“He was always hot,” I say with a sigh. Then I force a smile, wanting to support my best friend. “So what do you think? Are you going to make a move? Or give him another chance?”
We discuss the possibility before moving on to other subjects until the end of lunch. Tim isn’t in the following period, and I don’t really expect to see him in choir—although I’m sure he’d be a baritone—so anticipation is high when I reach my final class of the day, physics. Instead of individual desks, wide tables seat two. I watch the door, the chair next to mine remaining empty. It soon becomes one of the only available seats. Which I don’t take personally, because this is perfect. I can already imagine meeting Allison after school and getting to say, “I got lucky too!”
I’m still watching the door when someone I recognize finally shows up. My stomach sinks as a gangly guy with red hair stumbles on his way inside, his eyes filled with anxiety as he surveys the classroom. Danny seems relieved when noticing the empty seat next to me.
“Hi, Ben,” he says, clutching a backpack with two loose straps to his chest. “Can I sit here?”
“Yeah, of course,” I assure him, trying to hide my disappointment.
Danny drops his backpack on the table, the chair scraping loudly across the floor as he sits. I don’t have anything against him. He’s a fellow outcast, like me, although for different reasons. Danny is socially awkward. And he’s weird. I stare as he takes out a ridiculous number of pens and pencils and begins arranging them into rows. He notices me watching him.
“Did you have a good summer?” he asks.
“No,” I say, even though it was fine.
“Me neither,” Danny says with a sigh.
“What happened to your backpack?” I ask, pushing it and the loose straps pointedly toward his side of the table.
“Bryce grabbed it in the hall and swung me around.” Danny is rubbing his nose. “I hit the wall and it really hurt. So I’m just going to carry it from now on.”
“That guy is an asshole,” I mutter.
Danny’s head whips left and right, like he’s worried about getting in trouble for the foul language. Then he cackles. “Yeah, he really is! Bryce is a total idiot. I bet he’s got a super low GPA. The lowest in the whole school.” Which of course is a segue to Danny’s favorite subject. He’s always been grade-obsessed, competitively slamming his pencil down at the end of each test and quiz before looking around with gleeful pride. Which is annoying, sure, but I don’t get why people like him sink to the bottom while Bryce, Darryl, and the other jerks rise to the top. I try to imagine an alternate reality where people care more about the valedictorian than the prom queen and pep rallies are held before the chess club’s big game. As fond as I am of muscles, I’d willingly go without to be a part of that world.
So maybe Tim isn’t the guy for me. I glance at Danny. I don’t find him attractive. Nor do we have much in common. I’ve never been tempted to hang out with him after school. Am I just as bad as the rest of them? Prioritizing a handsome face instead of caring about the substance beneath? I’d be willing to find out what kind of person Tim is, if given the opportunity. I promise myself, the next time I see him, to finally make it happen. I picture myself waving him down while he’s mowing the lawn, just so I can introduce myself. If he’s the kind of guy I need him to be, Tim won’t mind. He’ll love me for it.
At the end of class, I meet Allison by her locker before we head outside. I’m searching the dispersing crowds when I finally see him. Allison does too. She nudges me before noticing that I’m already looking across the parking lot to where a group of popular kids are gathered around a sleek black sports car. Bryce, Stacy, Darryl, and yeah, Tim. He’s got this victorious grin on his face, like he’s just won the lottery, and I suppose he has. I’m certain he didn’t go to our school before—I’d bet my life on it—and yet on his first day he already ranks among the elite. I don’t question why. You’ve gotta be hot or rich to be popular, and I’m pretty sure he’s both. I watch Tim unlock the door to a sports car that sure looks new before he steps aside so the others can check out the interior. Even now, at a distance and surrounded by people I despise, I still find him incredibly attractive. When a thin blond girl named Krista bounds across the parking lot and grabs his arm, I’m not the least bit surprised.
“Oh well,” I say with a sigh. “It was a nice fantasy. I’ll add him to the list of all my other imaginary ex-boyfriends.”
“Give it time,” Allison says. “Once he figures out that his new friends are bastards, he’ll need a shoulder to cry on. And it’ll be yours.”
I appreciate her attempt to lift my spirits, but it’s way too late for that. “He’s one of them,” I say, turning toward her car. “Even if he was gay—which obviously isn’t true—he’d never notice someone like me.”
“He’d be crazy not to!” Allison says in shock. “I still think you should talk to him.”
“You don’t get it!” I growl. “You can flirt with any guy in this school without having to worry about getting punched in the face. It’s really freaking hard, okay?”
