Ben gave it all he had, belting it out along with the lead vocals and almost putting Lauryn Hill’s voice to shame. Tim sat straight up, his eyes wide in amazement. He clapped and raved when the song was over and spent the next hour trying to get Ben to sing along to some of the other videos. A few, like Beck, were a hopeless cause, but for some of them Ben was able to comply.

After a while Tim switched off the TV.

“So what’s it like being gay?” he asked, catching Ben off guard.

“Like anything else I guess,” Ben answered. “What’s it like to be whatever you are?”

“Straight,” Tim assured him. “Don’t you catch a lot of slack for it? I mean, everyone at school knows, right?”

Ben nodded.

“I’m surprised you don’t get beaten up every day.”

“I get a lot of crap,” Ben said with a shrug, “but I got crap before I came out for totally different reasons. It’s no different now. Not really.”

“I guess that’s true. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Like you would know. It must be hard being a jock with rich parents and a brand-new sports car. People must tease you unmercifully.”

Tim’s grin was cocky. “When you put it like that, I do have it good, but I still get crap from other people. Miss a catch or don’t make it to base and your team turns on you, especially if you lose the game.”

Ben made sure he didn’t look convinced.

“Well, all right, how about this then?” The smile dropped from Tim’s face. “At my last school my ex-girlfriend went around telling everyone that I raped her, just because I dumped her. I had every girl in the school coming up to me and saying the craziest shit. A few even tried to knee me. It was insane.”

“What happened?”

“What do you mean? Nothing happened. It was her word against mine, but she didn’t take it to the police or anything because she knew the truth. It blew over after a while, but people never treated me the same afterwards. You don’t know how glad I am to have a fresh start.”

“The idea sounds appealing,” Ben admitted.

“Would you still come out? If you moved to the other side of the country where no one knew, would you come out again?”

“Yeah,” Ben answered immediately. “Are you kidding me? What would I do otherwise? Pretend I’m into girls and start sleeping with them?”

Tim only shrugged in response.

“I’d definitely come out again. It’s the only chance I have at meeting someone else who is gay. It pays to advertise. That’s the theory at least.”

“No luck in the romance department?” Tim asked with an amused expression.

“Not really. Not love at least.”

A garish cuckoo clock came to life, the little bird popping out and returning to its little home seven times.

“Jesus, I should get home.” Ben hurried to leave, pulling a shoe onto the wrong foot before realizing it and reaching for the other. “Are you going to be all right? There’s drinks and stuff in the fridge and leftover pizza on the counter. Should I bring it in?”

“Naw, I can manage.”

“I thought I’d come by in the morning to make breakfast and check on you, and then again in the afternoon?” Ben didn’t mean to phrase it as a question. He wanted to say it like it was the obvious thing to do.

“Yeah?” Tim answered with his own inquiry. “You’d do that for me?”

“That and a hell of a lot more.” The words were out of his mouth before his brain could stop them. The only damage control he could do was a nervously little laugh, which probably made him sound twice as crazy. “Uh, so see you tomorrow then,” he said before he made a mad dash for the door.

* * * * *

The pancakes were the right shape--round and flat. They were also spongy like they should be. Only the color was off. The first few out of the pan were an albino version of the normal brown variety. The next three were almost black. Ben had no idea what he had done wrong.

He had read and reread the simple instructions in his mom’s Betty Crocker cookbook three or four times and had even written down the basics, but these didn’t look right at all. He shoveled the last pancake onto the plate with the others and poured a generous amount of syrup over them to conceal their inadequacies.

If Tim noticed that they weren’t quite right, he didn’t let on. It may have helped that he had taken a painkiller when Ben had shown up half an hour ago. His eyes had a certain glazed look about them when Ben presented his creation. Within five minutes the entire plate had been cleared and licked clean.

“A guy could get used to this,” Tim said appreciatively as Ben carried the plate back to the kitchen.

Next up was Tim’s request for a bath. This idea had already been the subject of more than one of Ben’s fantasies the last few days. In them he had to assist his poor, helpless invalid out of his clothing, place him in the bathtub, and sponge clean every delicious nook and cranny of his body. This, of course, would lead to an involuntary physical reaction on Tim’s part, one so intense that he’d beg Ben for relief.

The reality wasn’t anywhere near as exciting. Ben was asked to run the bath before he left for school, Tim insisting that he could manage the rest on his own. If this was true then it was also clear that Tim could have turned the faucet on by himself, but Ben let it slide. The more indispensable he became the better.

As the tub filled and the bubble bath frothed, Ben thought of how he was supposed to be in P.E. this very moment. He felt deliriously happy about missing it, but he still had to make it back to school in time for roll call in English class. Even though he had awakened early to have extra time, he already needed to leave if he wanted to make it.

“Bath’s ready!” he yelled as he headed for the door. “See you later today!”

“Don’t take my car!” Tim shouted back.

“What?” Ben responded before shutting the front door and getting in the sports car.

Ben felt conspicuous being the only person walking across the parking lot when he arrived, but he wasn’t stopped and figured it wouldn’t matter if he was. What were they going to do, punish him for showing up? He felt less confident when he entered the school and found the hallways empty. Having just heard the bell, he had assumed that first period just ended. Now it was clear that second period had begun. He was huffing and puffing by the time he reached his English class.

“Well?” Mrs. Carroll insisted with raised eyebrows.

Ben sighed. Some teachers were happy to wordlessly issue a tardy or not bother about it at all. Others expected explanations and apologies.

“Sorry,” he panted. “Just came from P.E. and Coach made me stay behind.” He doubted she would ever check up on this. He took his seat before she could ask any more questions. To his relief she resumed whatever lecture he had interrupted.

“Lose track of time loitering in the showers?” whispered a snide voice from next to him.

Ben looked over to the sneering, freckled face of Daniel Wigmore. He didn’t know how it was possible, but Daniel had ended up sitting next to Ben in at least one class every year, much to his chagrin. He had become something of a ginger-headed nemesis. Daniel was one of those students who took scholastic competition very seriously. He was always sure to flash his homework when he got “A’s,” which was always, and would speed through tests and slam his pencil down, surveying the class with a smug expression.

“Or did Coach ask you to stay behind and blow him?” Daniel pressed.

“Keep your fantasies to yourself, faggot.”

That wiped the grin off Daniel’s face. People never expected Ben to use a word like that. It was twice as effective coming from a gay guy, and more worrying too, thanks to the whole “takes one to know one” philosophy.

Daniel turned his attention back to his obsession with perfect grades and left Ben to mentally plan when he would skip school again. Technically he could leave after this class, but he knew it would probably be a bad idea.