Page 75 of Something Like Summer
“What about girls?” Benasked.
“Tried to avoid them. Justhad a prom date senior year.”
“Krista Norman again?” Benspat, feeling surprised at how much he still despised her all theseyears later.
“No. Not Krista. I stoppedseeing her about the same time that we beat the crap out ofBryce.”
Ben smiled at thememory.
“That was another goodreason to switch schools,” Tim added. “I’m sure Bryce was achingfor a rematch. They give you any more trouble?”
“Not really.” There hadbeen the usual name calling but nothing more, although Ben hadcarried pepper spray until graduation.
Ben led them to a tiny parksqueezed between two parking lots. There was only space for acouple of benches, a tangle of untended plants, and the occasionaldrunk. They pushed past the bushes to a large flat rock thatoffered seating next to the river.
“Nice view,” Timcommented.
The tranquil sound of thewater combined with the reflection of city lights on the river madethis one of Ben’s favorite places for solitary thinking.Occasionally he brought Jace along. They once had frenzied sexhere, wondering all the while if they were going to be caught.Bringing Tim here wasn’t a betrayal. Ben was using the memories ofJace as reinforcements to his willpower.
Tim let Ben sit firstbefore plopping down himself. With both of them cross-legged, thelittle rock didn’t afford enough room for them to sit without theirknees brushing against each other. Ben readjusted, pulling his legsup and holding them against his chest.
“So what about you?” Timasked. “Drag any lucky guys to the prom?”
“So straight from highschool to Austin then?” Ben asked, ignoring thequestion.
“Yeah, pretty much. My dadgraduated from here and insisted that I do the same. I didn’t knowwhat I wanted to do, so I agreed. It’s worked out pretty well sofar. People are so liberal in Austin that it’s easy to be gayhere.”
Ben almost toppled over.“You came out?”
“Yeah.” Tim beamed at him.“Got kicked out of a fraternity because of it, too.”
“Seriously?” Ben asked,grudgingly impressed.
“Yeah. It was stupid, too,since I’d slept with half of them before coming out. Well,nothalf, but youknow.”
Ben didn’t know, but hecouldn’t help imagining. He thought such things only took place inporn movies.
“A lot of the frat boyswere the same way I used to be,” Tim said. “Some just liked to messaround, which was all right, but some guys were so closeted theycouldn’t even admit it to themselves. I guess I got a good taste ofwhat I put you through.”
Ben was silent. He hadn’texpected Tim to ever come out. That he had was incredible. How hadhis life changed since then? Did he have boyfriends? Did he takethem home to meet his family? How did his parents feel?
“So tell me about yourlife,” Tim pressed. “Was Chicago just a lie to keep me away fromyou?”
“No, I was there foralmost two years.”
“Did you likeit?”
“I loved it. Everythingbut the weather. The museums were amazing, the shopping—just thecity itself. There was always something going on. Culture thrivesthere. It didn’t feel like a dead city, like Houston.”
“Yeah.” Tim nodded,remembering. “Austin must seem boring in comparison.”
“Not really. It’s taken mea little while, but it’s starting to feel like home.”
“You know,” Tim leanedtoward him, “they say home is where the heart is.”
“They also say you cannever go home again,” Ben pointed out.
“Touché!” Tim shrugged.“So what about guys? I guess you’ve probably dated alot?”
