Page 71 of When Ben Loved Jace
“Still?” His hangdog expression is answer enough. “I would’ve expected that to be a bond you share with Eric, since he’s so into art.”
“It is,” Tim replies, “but have you seen what he’s got hanging on his walls? An original Hopper. Andthreedifferent Leyendeckers! My work would look like a kid’s drawing next to those. If I’m lucky, he’d take pity on me and tape my art to the fridge.”
“Most parents do that out of pride,” I retort, “even if their kid isn’t a Picasso. But youdohave talent. I can’t believe you haven’t shared that with him yet!”
“Did you let it slip?” Tim asks in concern.
“Yeah, but I think I covered well enough. How come there’s never paint on your hands anymore?”
“Because I have better hygiene than when I was a grubby teenager,” he shoots back.
“Or you’re being more careful so nobody ever finds out.”
He presses his lips together. The subject is starting to feel a little too familiar. I don’t like it.
“I couldn’t exactly paint my heart out when living at the fraternity,” Tim grumbles. “So I left all that stuff with my parents. I just haven’t brought any of it to Eric’s house yet.”
Or told his closest friend about his artistic inclinations, but I decide to let it drop.
“Look at that view,” Tim says, nodding at where the path diverges.
We’re high up enough to see the surrounding forest, the tops of the trees below us. A river hugs our side of the hill, orange light reflecting off the surface as the sun begins to dip below the far horizon. We wander instinctively toward the precipice, like we’ve been doing since reuniting.
“Do you mind if we stop here for a while?” Tim shrugs off the drawstring backpack he’s wearing. “Bulldogs get overheated easily. I wanna let Chinchilla cool down.”
“Yeah, of course!”
I watch him take out a bowl and fill it with water. We share what’s left in the bottle while sitting on a flat rock together, the panoramic view spread out before us. Chinchilla settles down to pant. I’m tempted to do the same each time I glance over at Tim. He catches me looking and smiles. His eyes sparkle with affection, and while it’s a nice moment, I also know that it’s the end, because I want to kiss him. Consequences be damned. Being alone together was a test, and I failed.
He seems to recognize the shift. “What’s wrong?”
I swallow and shake my head. How am I going to do this?
Tim continues to stare. I can see him in my peripheral vision, unable to meet his gaze. I’m already too weak.
“I know you don’t believe this sort of thing,” he says, “but it’s not a coincidence that we met. When we were teenagers, I mean. I’ve been thinking about it, and I feel like God brought us together, so you could show me it’s okay to be the way that I am. And that he loves me. Through you, I guess.” He sighs. “I wish I was better at expressing this sort of thing. It makes sense in my head. What I’m trying to say is… We were made for each other.”
He's right. I don’t believe in that sort of thing. And yet, my eyes fill with tears regardless, because I want it to be true. “I do love you,” I admit. “That’s the problem.”
“It’s not!” he says, grabbing my hand. “It’s a good thing!”
“No,” I croak, pulling away. “We can’t be together, Tim. Even as friends. I’m sorry, but it’s not working. I can’t handle it.”
“Stop fighting it then!”
“And what?” I shoot back. “Break up with Jace? Is that what God wants? For me to hurt him so we can be together?”
Tim swallows. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s someone outthere for him to love, and he’ll only find that guy if he’s free to look for him.”
“Ilove him.” My throat constricts. “And he loves me. That’s why this has to stop.”
“Hold up!” Tim sounds panicked. “So it didn’t work out with Adrien. Big deal. I’ll keep dating. That way we both have someone.”
“Will that really make a difference?”
“Yeah! It’s got to.”
“Tim…” I say, leaning toward him without hiding my need.
