Page 52 of When Ben Loved Tim
“I stayed at Tim’s house,” I reply, moving for the stairs.
My mother blocks my path. “And you couldn’t have told us before you left? Or at least called this morning so I would know that you’re safe?”
I scowl at my feet.
“Answer me!” my mother insists. “You’re in big trouble, young man!”
I look up at her, ready to vent my anger, even if it’s at the wrong person. I open my mouth but all that comes out is a squeak. Then my face crumples and I begin to cry. When I feel my mom’s arms around me, I don’t resist. I let her pull me into a hug and continue to weep while she whispers soothing words that promise everything will be all right, even though I don’t see how it ever could be again.
Chapter Eleven
I do my best to move on, when in truth, I spend the first few nights waiting for Tim to call. I figure that losing me, even as a friend, would mean something to him. All evidence points to the contrary, but I never could take a hint, so for the first time since our falling out, I search for him between classes. When we pass each other in the hall, he locks eyes with me, but I don’t hold his gaze. Instead my attention darts down to where Krista has herself wrapped around his arm. Then I look away, because clearly nothing has changed.
I don’t seek Tim out after that. Not even in the parking lot when climbing into Allison’s car. I prefer to focus on my best friend, whose newfound joy is contagious. Her date with Ronnie went really well. I refuse to feel jealous about that. Had the weekend played out differently for each of us, Allison would be happy for me, despite her own disappointing result. So I make sure to smile when Ronnie brings her flowers on Wednesday and am enthusiastic when he becomes her favorite subject. I don’t have to fake it. He’s a good guy and is treating her right. That’s what we both deserve.
Despite the temptation, I don’t feel sorry for myself. I got to kiss one of the hottest guys in school. Repeatedly! That was worth bruising my heart a little. And even if it wasn’t, I have supportive parents, an awesome best friend, and a birthday coming up. I’ll be eighteen soon. My life as an adult is about to begin. Next year I’ll be off to college and can try again. There’s bound to be a special guy out there for me somewhere.
And yet, when I’m lying in bed each night, it’s impossible not to dwell on the one I almost had. I’m still haunted by how it felt to be held by Tim. When I jack off, my thoughts always drift to him. I try to make my fantasies carnal, like it was with those other guys. I rewrite my history with Tim so I was giving him blowjob after blowjob without any feelings involved. Which only works until I come. That’s when emotion seeps in from around the edges. On good nights, I fall asleep before they can. On others, I alternate between anger and sorrow in a futile effort to keep love at bay.
I keep reminding myself to focus on the positive. My big day finally arrives and is especially nice since this year it falls on a Saturday. When I go downstairs for breakfast, everyone treats me like a prince. Even my sister, since those are the rules. We take birthdaysveryseriously in my family. My mom slides a card across the table to me, which is unusual, since I normally have to wait until the relatives show up to open presents. I can already tell that it’s loaded with cash. Way more than I’ve ever gotten before.
“You’re eighteen now,” my mom explains. “This will be your last birthday at home.”
“You told me the same thing,” Karen grumps.
“We love having you here,” my father assures her.
“I’m not pushing you out of the nest,” my mother says to me. “You’re welcome to stay. But I’ve always known that you’re a flier.”
Her choice of words makes me feel a pang of sorrow. I don’t feel like a butterfly these days. I’m more like a cocoon that someone knocked off the tree. Allison calls as breakfast is winding down to wish me a happy birthday, which is sweet but silly, since she’ll be coming over in a couple of hours and could have told me then.
“Are you sure about tonight?” she asks.
“Absolutely,” I say without hesitation.
My birthday is close enough to Halloween that the two holidays often blend together to some degree. Like in the third grade, I asked everyone to wear their costumes to my party, mostly because I couldn’t wait to put mine on. This year I thought it would be fun to go to the haunted houses downtown. The plan was for it to be just Allison and me, but when she casually suggested that Ronnie could go with us, I readily agreed. And when the subject came up at the lunch table, I invited Leon too, figuring the more the merrier. If I could do high school over again, I’d form my own clique of freaks and geeks. We outnumber the popular kids ten to one. That’s not a bad blueprint for life actually. If all the minority groups joined together, they would be the new majority.
Not ready to run for president just yet, I take a shower, get dressed, and put on my favorite tunes until it’s time to go downstairs and make an appearance. I’ve always felt like the black sheep of the family, but I do like my relatives, despite our differences. Once the party is in full swing, I’m in high spirits. We’re only waiting for my grandma to show up so we can cut the cake and open presents. When I hear a knock, I rush to respond.
“Nana!” I cry happily when throwing open the door.
The smile slides off my face. Tim is standing there with a hangdog expression. He’s holding a wrapped gift that’s flat, rectangular, and so tall that the bottom edge rests on the tip of his blue shoes. I’m amazed by how quickly the joy drains from me as pain bubbles up to take its place.
“Hey,” Tim says, sounding muted. “Happy birthday.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, stepping onto the porch and pulling the door shut behind me.
Tim swallows. “I wanted to give you this.”
I barely glance at the gift. “Anything else?” I ask.
Tim shrugs. “I guess I wanted to say—” His eyes widen as the door behind me opens again.
“Oh!” my mom says in surprise. “Tim! How nice of you to stop by! We were just about to have some cake. Come on in!”
“Mom,” I stress in a way that I hope communicates just how awkward the situation is.
“That’s okay,” Tim says.
