Something Like Winter (9 page)

“
What?” Ben
asked.

“
Nothing. Just thinking
about school.”

“
You miss it?”

“
Are you kidding?” Tim took
another swig and set the beer down on the patio. “I wouldn’t go
again if I had a choice.”

Ben scrunched up his face.
“Weird.”

“
Why’s that?”

“
Well, I just figured that
you’d like it more. I mean, you’re popular.”

Tim drew out his reply to
make it all the more sarcastic. “Which is so… very…
fun.”

“
Isn’t it?” Ben challenged.
“I have one real friend, and hanging out with Allison is the only
thing that makes school tolerable. Without her, I’d go
crazy.”

“
So what’s your
point?”

“
Well, you have way more
friends, so it would be like having more Allisons. That sounds like
a good time to me.”

Tim laughed, but inside he
wondered if he was missing something. Multiply the Darryls and
Bryces, or even the Carlas and Brodys from back home, and it
sounded like one giant headache. His friends kept him entertained
and made him feel important, but they could also be tiring. They
were just as demanding in their needs as he was, and probably felt
the same way about him.

“
Let me tell you a secret,”
Tim said. “Popular people are insecure as hell. All they worry
about is staying on top and being loved by everybody. To do that,
they obsess about what everyone thinks of them. Most are downright
desperate for any vote of approval they can get.”

“
Present company
excluded.”

Tim was sure Ben meant it
as a compliment and not a jab, but he shook his head. “I’m just as
bad, and I can’t even tell you why. Popular kids are just a
powerful union of needy, insecure losers. Remember that next time
someone stupid like Bryce mouths off to you. You’re better than
them, Benjamin. You don’t have to be anything but
yourself.”

Ben looked embarrassed, but
he flashed Tim a goofy smile. And it made Tim sad, because he had
been telling the truth. Come Monday, his life would center around
keeping up appearances, because he needed people to love him. Maybe
he didn’t get enough from his parents, or maybe he was just
pathetic, but Tim lived for admiration. He’d been milking Ben for
it the past two weeks, which probably wasn’t fair.

Tim rubbed his neck and
sighed. He needed to go running. “Once this cast is off, I’ll never
sit down again.”

“
Do you want a
massage?”

Tim was about to give a
snarky response, thinking it was their usual fruitless flirtation,
but Ben looked serious.

“
Put the seatback down and
flip over,” Ben said. “Trust me, I give great massages.”

Why not? Tim leaned the
chair flat and rolled over, the foot of his cast banging against
the patio, but he was doing so much better that it barely hurt. Ben
sat on the side of the chair and started kneading the muscles at
the base of Tim’s neck.

“
So you’ve done this a
lot?” Tim asked, wanting to keep their conversation
going.

“
Nope. First
time.”

Tim lifted his head. “But
you said—”

“
Yeah, well, I say a lot of
things.” Ben laughed and started kneading harder, forcing Tim to
put his head back down.

Maybe Ben lacked
experience, but the massage sure felt good! He worked the area
between Tim’s shoulder blades next, then squeezed Tim’s deltoids a
few times, slowly kneading his way toward the lower back. Tim
shifted in the seat, his shorts tight.

Fuck.

He was hard or very nearly
there. Another guy was touching him, and his stupid dick had
responded. Part of him was tempted to roll over. He knew it would
make Ben happy but—holy shit!—what did this say about
him?

“
All right,” Tim said.
“That’s enough.”

Ben kept
massaging.

“
Fucking stop!”

Ben’s hands lifted away.
“Sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“
No.” Tim kept his head
turned away from Ben, his line of vision nearly level with the beer
can dripping condensation on the patio stones. Beyond, the flame of
a Tiki torch danced, sending strange shadows across the grass. Tim
scowled. Maybe things had gone too far. He pushed himself up on his
elbows. “I’m tired,” he said, without looking at Ben. “You should
go.”

“
Oh. Okay.” Ben stood up,
but he didn’t go anywhere. What did he expect? To be walked to the
door? When Tim didn’t move, still didn’t look at him, Ben took the
hint. The sound of his footsteps went to the house. Tim heard the
sliding glass door open, but didn’t hear it close. He could picture
Ben standing there, looking back at him and wondering what he had
done wrong. He must have been right, because Ben spoke.

“
So, do you still want me
to come by tomorrow?”

No! Of course not. That’s
why I’m sending you away! But Tim couldn’t bring his lips to shape
these words. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

When Tim heard the car
drive away a few minutes later, he got up and struggled with his
crutches. Once inside he would jack off. He hadn’t done that since
he was injured, which was crazy. Pent up hormones could make just
about anything sound like a good idea.

Tomorrow would be
different. Tim would start taking care of the house himself, become
self-sufficient again. Ben was a good guy, but he wasn’t his
freaking girlfriend. Tim wouldn’t punish Ben for what was his own
fault, but after this weekend, playtime was over.

Chapter Six

Ben showed up the next day
with an armful of groceries. Tim followed him out to the driveway,
determined to help carry in the rest, though Ben wouldn’t let him.
Back in the kitchen, he helped put everything away. Ben didn’t stay
long after that, having promised to eat dinner with his family. A
couple of hours later, Ben called, anger in his voice.

“
My stupid sister figured
out I was skipping and ratted me out.”

“
Oh.” Tim’s response wasn’t
the best, but he had mixed emotions. The night wouldn’t be as much
fun without Ben, but maybe it wouldn’t be as confusing
either.

“
It’s not just today,” Ben
explained. “I won’t be able to come over all weekend.”

“
What can you do, man?
That’s life.”

They didn’t stay on the
phone long after that. Tim microwaved some frozen burritos, then
sat at the dining room table and ate without really tasting them.
His head was buzzing from too many thoughts that, despite his best
effort, kept circling back to Ben.

After dinner Tim grabbed
his sketchbook and went to the back patio, lighting the torches and
trying to recreate the mood from yesterday. Somehow it just wasn’t
the same, but he sat there and drew a little. Next he wrote, trying
to get his thoughts down and becoming increasingly aggravated. Then
he saw the butterfly fluttering through the air with lazy ease, as
if life had always been simple and without consequence. Thinking of
Ben again, Tim switched to poetry, and the words finally flowed,
his feelings easier to express in the abstract, especially when
wrapped up in Spanish. Tim found the language beautiful, the words
exotic enough to be almost mystical, their power undiminished by
constant exposure.

His mind and soul
satisfied, Tim slowly crutched upstairs and flipped through his old
porn magazines. He relieved more tension that way, although he felt
frustrated with the familiarity of the images, how all the women
with fake breasts and men with pumped-up gym bodies looked the
same. At least being upstairs meant he could sleep in his own bed
again, which was ten times more comfortable than the
couch.

Tim’s dreams that night
weren’t restful. He found himself in Corey’s room again, except
bizarrely, Ben was sitting there talking to him. But he wasn’t
really speaking. He was singing, every word a melody. When the
dream reached its climax, Ben sang the same words over and over
again until they became a song with one lyrical line:
You can kiss me, if you want. You can kiss me,
kiss me, kiss me, if you waaaant.
Finally
Tim gave into temptation and leaned forward, jolting awake the
moment their lips touched.

Enough was enough. Tim
called Krista later that day.

* * * * *

Ben had once said the cast
would be good for getting sympathy. As it turned out, he was right.
Tim was back on the leather couch, but now the slender form next to
him kept giggling and saying “Timmy!” in chastising tones. He loved
kissing Krista’s neck to make her squeal. More than that, he loved
how easily he got hard in response to this, the doubts about his
sexuality now distant.

“
Let me sign it!” Krista
said.

“
And then?” Tim
asked.

“
Um…”

Ugh, did he have to write a
script for her? “Will you give me a reward?” Tim
prompted.

“
Oh!” Krista stared. “What
do you mean?”

Seriously? “I’m sure you’ll
think of something you can do for me.”

“
Oh. Oooh!”

There we go. Now she was
finally getting it. Krista took one of the markers from the coffee
table to write on his cast. His irritation with her had made his
hard-on go down, but he would get there again. He kept jiggling his
foot, making Krista laugh more, when he heard a noise in the
hallway. Tim glanced over and saw Ben, eyes wide before he backed
away from the door. Good thing, because Krista had heard him
too.

Tim struggled to his feet.
“Be right back.”

“
Is someone here?” Krista
asked, looking worried.

“
It’s just my neighbor. He
promised to bring something by. Wait here.”

Tim grabbed his crutches
and hurried to the hallway. Not only was Ben there, but he had a
dog with him. Tim brushed by them, motioning with his head that Ben
should follow. He didn’t stop until he reached the front door,
which should be hint enough.

“
What are you doing here?”
he hissed. “I thought you were grounded?”

“
I snuck out,” Ben
said.

“
Jesus, man! You almost
gave me a heart attack.”

“
Sorry. I wanted to
surprise you.”

“
That you did.” The dog
made a grumbling noise to get his attention. Tim had wanted a dog
for ages, but to his parents, that was like asking them to make
another kid. “Who’s this?” he asked, reaching down to pet
him.

“
Wilford, my faithful
companion. I thought taking him out for a walk would be a good
excuse to sneak over here.”

But Tim barely heard him.
Instead he was thinking of his birthday, when he had nearly driven
over some guy and his dog. It couldn’t be… could it? “You know, he
looks oddly familiar.”

“
He looks like Wilford
Brimley,” Ben explained. “The old guy in the oatmeal
commercials?”

“
Oh yeah!” Tim laughed. “He
totally does.”

“
That’s why we named him
that. He just needs a pair of glasses, and the look is
complete.”

They laughed together, and
it felt easy. Too easy. Krista could walk into the entryway at any
moment.

“
Look, you can’t stay,” Tim
whispered. “I’m trying to get laid. I’m playing up the injury thing
like crazy, and she’s eating it up.”

“
Yeah, sorry.” Ben looked
embarrassed, like he’d done something stupid. “I, uh, yeah. Good
luck, man.”

God this sucked, but it was
going to happen on Monday anyway. Tim gave him a friendly punch to
the arm, the sort that was really just pressing your fist against
someone’s deltoid. “You too. I hope you sneak back in without
getting caught.”

“
Shouldn’t be hard. My
parents are out running errands.”

“
Oh.”

Ben shuffled awkwardly.
“Well, see ya.”

“
Yeah. Wait!”

Ben turned around, Tim
regretting his carelessness because Ben looked so damn hopeful. “I
need my car keys back.”

“
Oh, yeah. Of
course.”

Ben fumbled the keychain
out of his pocket, not making eye contact with Tim. Then he left
the house, cutting across the yard and practically dragging Wilford
along in his haste.

Sorry, Benjamin.

When Tim got back to the
living room, Krista was still sitting on the couch, upright and
alert. “Just my neighbor,” he reminded her. “I missed a delivery
the other day.”

“
Oh.”

Tim sat back down on the
couch, took the marker from her hand, and kissed her with a
vengeance. After a moment of surprise, she responded. To his
relief, so did the rest of him, but it wasn’t easy because Ben’s
hurt expression kept flashing through his mind. If the world were a
different place, Tim would make Ben happy, give him what he wanted.
And Tim had to admit, that’s what he wanted too. Maybe he didn’t
understand it or even like it, but Tim wanted him. He grabbed
Krista’s hand and moved it down to his cock.