Page 54 of Something Like Summer
The machine beeped again,signaling the end of the message. Ben grabbed the phone and dialedAllison’s dorm room in Austin, before gut instinct made him hang upthe phone and dial a number he knew by heart. The same one he hadalways called when they were growing up. After two rings, the lineclicked and Allison answered the phone.
“Allison? Whathappened?”
“He’s dead, Ben.” Allisonbroke down, Ben trying to console her while she regained hercomposure. “My father,” she said when she was capable. “He’sdead.”
* * * * *
Convincing his parents tosend him a plane ticket hadn’t been hard. They had been begging himto come home for Christmas, which he had resisted. Ben had lovedthe idea of being alone in Chicago, celebrating the holidays withonly his boyfriend.
Ex-boyfriend, hecorrected.
His parents managed to gethim a flight on Christmas Eve and had probably paid through thenose to do so. The only available flight was a midnight express.The plane boarded in record time due to having fewer than twentypassengers. Ben’s seat was in the front of coach in the emergencyexit row, and while still not first class, it did have more legroom than all the rows behind him. With the seats next to him free,Ben was soon stretched out and sleeping, but not before lookingdown on the city that had been his home the last year and ahalf.
Ben stirred when the airpressure changed, indicating that the plane had begun its descent.He shifted uncomfortably, the pocket watch pressing painfullyagainst his hip and regretted keeping it. So far it had been aconstant reminder of his losing streak with love. Only his own poortaste was to blame. Since starting college, he had found plenty oflegitimate guys who had taken an interest in him. Theserelationships never lasted more than a few weeks, while Ben’sappetite for unavailable straight guys continued to thrive. Oncehe’d even broken up with a guy after developing a crush on hisstraight brother.
All of this left a badtaste in Ben’s mouth, reminding him of high school. He had waitedso long to be free of that environment, where every guy he wantedwas straight or closeted. The number of openly gay students incollege appeared limitless, but still Ben was attracted to those hecouldn’t have and he didn’t understand why. Was it a fear ofcommitment or a fetish for straight guys? Probably neither. Hewanted nothing more than a serious long-term relationship. Perhapshis particular tastes couldn’t be satisfied by anyone, straight orgay.
Or maybe he was stillyearning for Tim. Ben looked out the window at the orange citylights and wondered for the thousandth time what had become of him.Since the summer they had broken up, Tim had disappeared. He stilllived in the same house, since his car was often in the driveway,but Ben never saw Tim out jogging or at school the next year. Hemust have gone to a school in the next district, maybe a privateone.
“Funeral, huh?”
Ben came out of his reposeto see a flight attendant sitting next to the emergency exit in oneof those fold-down chairs they used during take off and landing.The man was in his mid-twenties and thin, with the sort of highcheek bones that provided models with job security. His dirtyblonde hair was short on the sides and medium length on top, withjust enough styling product to make it stand up. Overall he wasvery attractive and rather dapper in his airlineuniform.
“Sorry?” Beninquired.
“You’re flying because ofa funeral,” the man stated in a pleasantly deep voice.
Ben was taken aback. “Well,yeah. How did you know?”
The flight attendant resteda hand on his chin, his long index finger on his cheek. “Your facewas so sad. People never look sad when they fly, unless there is afuneral involved.”
Ben felt a pang of guilt.He had been reminiscing about failed relationships when he shouldhave been thinking of Allison and what she was goingthrough.
“Of course,” the flightattendant mused further, “we also get sad faces when people have toleave their partners behind, although passengers usually recoverfrom that by the time we land.”
“Well, if you must know,”Ben began testily. He was becoming irritated with this strangerprying into his personal affairs. “Not only is there a funeral, butmy boyfriend robbed me yesterday, thus becoming my ex.”
“That would explain it. Adouble whammy. Here, on the house.”
The flight attendantreached into a pocket and took out two mini bottles of vodka. “Myname’s Jace, by the way,” he said as he tossed them toBen.
“Your name tag saysJason,” Ben pointed out.
“I know.” Jace took holdof the tag and angled it to better see. “Isn’t that mean? I toldthem I wanted one that says Jace, but that’s not my legal name.Where do they get these things, anyway? Is there a store that sellsthem somewhere? That would be cool. Then I could buy myown.”
Ben laughed and introducedhimself.
“That can’t be your legalname either,” Jace replied. “It must be Benjamin?”
“Just Ben,” he repliedtersely. He didn’t like anyone to call him by his full name. Notanymore.
“Well, it’s veryeconomical at least. Only three letters.”
Ben looked down at the twotiny bottles of booze. “Care to join me?” he asked, offeringone.
“Nope. Not allowed todrink on duty,” Jace explained. “I don’t really drink anyway. Ionly take them because they make such nice stockingstuffers.”
“Are there flights onChristmas?” Ben asked, wanting to keep the conversationgoing.
