Page 85 of When Ben Loved Tim
I hurry up the stairs to my room to pick out an outfit, wanting to choose something that looks nice, because I fully intend to pass Tim in the hall today. And considering that we’ve been deprived of being depraved, there’s a good chance I’ll see him again tonight. I’m excited about our future, although it’s almost comical how contented I was last night. I don’t feel that way now, because my mom unintentionally put a bug in my ear. Getting to love Tim and sleep with him is great, but now that he’s officially single…
I want to be his boyfriend.
* * * * *
I’m strolling through the leaf-strewn woods near my house, occasionally stopping to glance over my shoulder, because Tim is exceedingly handsome, even with so much of his body covered. It’s one of those rare December days when the sun is out and the weather is chilly but fresh. I’m layered up in a T-shirt, sweater, and coat. Tim is dressed in a similar outfit, except his coat hangs open and he’s not wearing anything beneath the loose V-neck sweater. He could be a model. Everything looks good on him, especially when I get to take it all off. Which has happened a lot lately.
The past couple of weeks have been nice. Allison is no longer grounded and has permission to see Ronnie. Their fathers met over lunch, which sounds so civilized that it gives me hope for her home life. We spend a lot of time comparing notes on the guys we’re dating. The emotions are similar, but our experiences are vastly different. Her relationship with Ronnie takes place in public settings, either at school or whenever they go on their dates. My whatever-it-is with Tim remains hidden, a secret nurtured in the precious time that our parents aren’t home or awake.
My mom and dad don’t have an issue with us being together. Tim does though. He doesn’t want them to know, so I’ve avoided telling him that they already do. He always makes me wait until they go to sleep before he’ll get busy with me. And when feeling reckless enough, I sneak into his house late at night. Which makes it especially nice that we’re spending the day together. I only had to wait until Tim got home from church. Now we’re tromping through the woods that Allison and I used to play in.
“What’s up?” Tim asks when I slow to a stop.
I slowly pivot in a circle while pointing, like a witch searching for someone to hex. “Riiiight… there!”
I stab my index finger at a stout tree with branches low to the ground. Then I skip toward it happily, kicking up leaves along the way. “This used to be the mast of our pirate ship,” I say, placing a hand on one of the branches affectionately. “You’re lucky Anthrax Allison isn’t here. She’s the meanest captain on the seven seas.”
Tim looks amused when joining me. “You guys used to play make-believe here?”
“Yup!” I refrain from mentioning how old we were. Let him imagine two plucky kids instead of nerdy eighth graders.
I’m not surprised when he grabs one of the branches and pulls himself up into the tree. Tim is a very physical guy with a seemingly endless amount of energy. That’s why I brought him out here, like you do with a puppy to wear it out. The potential to be alone appealed to me too, because there’s something I want to talk to him about.
“What was your sailor name?” he asks.
“Ben Beard the Pirate.”
He stops climbing long enough to make a face. “But you don’t have a beard.”
I slash at him with an imaginary cutlass. “When people called me on it, I always went berserk!”
Tim laughs. He’s looking around for the next closest branch when he does a double take. “Hey! Someone carved a heart here.”
“Oh right.”
He glances back and forth between me and the heart. “It’s got your initials. But what about the other letters?” He figures it out without my help and laughs. “Allison?”
“Yeah,” I confirm. “I’m pretty sure it was her idea.”
“Did you guys ever have a thing for each other?”
“No. I don’t think so. And besides, the heart came later. By then I had already figured out what made me different from the guys I had slept with.” My pulse picks up. This seems like a good opportunity to broach the subject that I’ve been dying to discuss. “It takes more than two dudes having sex to make someone gay.”
“Oh yeah?” Tim asks, letting himself swing from a branch before dropping to the ground. “What do you mean?”
I try to ignore the hopeful expression he’s wearing, like I’m about to provide him with an easy out, when in fact the opposite is true. “It’s everythingbesidessex that counts,” I explain, “so even if I had insisted on those other guys returning the favor, it wouldn’t have meant much. I never caught them looking at me affectionately. They didn’t hold my hand during a movie. None of them wanted to spend more and more time with me.” His expression is guarded. I’m not sure if he realizes that I’m describing him, but he must suspect. “I wasn’t in love with any of those guys, but I did get crushes on a few. That’s the difference: I felt something more meaningful than simply being horny. In the same way that I feel things for you.”
He averts his gaze, which makes me feel like I’m suffocating, so I force the words out while bracing for his answer.
“Do you feel anything for me?”
“Yeah.” His eyes lock on to mine. “You’re my best friend.”
“I’ve already got one of those,” I say, nodding at the carved heart. “We’ll have to come up with a different title to describe us.”
“Like what?”
I swallow and put on my best smile. “I could be your boyfriend.”
