“No,” Ben answered again, beginning to feel agitated. He handed Allison her wallet and stood. “I have to go home.”

“Yeah, you go home! You won’t ever be coming back here again, you hear me?”

“Fine, whatever.” Big loss. It wasn’t like they ever spent any time here with Mr. Cross being home so often.

“You won’t be seeing Allison again either.”

Ben stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“Your friendship with my daughter is over. You’re never allowed to see her again. Or call, or anything else!”

“Dad!” Allison protested.

“Shut up, Alli!”

“You shut up!” Ben yelled, surprising even himself. “You can’t tell me who I’m friends with. You can’t tell me anything!”

Mr. Cross’s shock only lasted a second before blind fury took control. Two long strides brought him close enough to grab Ben by the back of the neck. Mr. Cross shoved him toward the door, releasing Ben as he stumbled forward. “Get out!” he screamed. “Get out of my house!”

The second Ben opened the door, he felt himself shoved from behind. He hit the screen door, which buckled open. Sprinting to the driveway, he hopped into Tim’s car, his shaking hand stabbing at the ignition until the key slid inside. Once the engine sprang to life, he put it into drive and escaped down the street. He looked in the rearview mirror to see Mr. Cross standing in the yard, huffing and puffing like a bull. Allison stood behind him, a look of complete shock on her face.

* * * * *

There was, thankfully, very little that Mr. Cross could do to prevent them from seeing each other during the weekdays, short of sending Allison to a different school in another district. This possibility wasn’t so far-fetched. The idea would have seemed laughable a few short years ago, but Mr. Cross’s grip on reality was slipping at an exponential rate.

Seeing each other after school was too risky so soon after the fallout, but they still had the benefit of lunch break and choir. Mrs. Hammond enthusiastically insisted they leave class to practice, either in the auditorium, or if it was being used as it was today, then outside.

The two friends were currently enjoying a sunny bench secluded by two large oak trees. Ben’s head rested in Allison’s lap as she played absentmindedly with his hair and he gazed at the lazy clouds above.

“I asked Dad if I could go out with Ronnie this weekend.”

“What did he say?”

“No, but that I could next weekend when I’m ungrounded.”

“That sucks,” Ben sighed. “I mean, I’m happy for you, but it seems unfair that I’m always on his shit list.”

“Who knows what his deal is? You know what’s funny? I’m probably going to have to say I’m out on a date with Ronnie the next time I want to do something with you.”

“Then when you get busted I can show up and say ‘sir’ every other word and your dad will love me.”

“Shut up!” Allison laughed.

“You know,” Ben said, leaning up on his elbows and shooting a disdainful glare toward the school, “we’re going to have to start working on a song soon. It’s only a matter of time before Mrs. Hammond asks us for a preview.”

“For the talent show?” Allison chewed her lip thoughtfully. “I’d totally forgotten about that. So what are we going to do?”

They spent the rest of the period discussing which song to perform. Last year they had been set to sing “Under Pressure” by David Bowie and Queen, but they had practiced it so much that they had grown tired of it.

“Ronnie has a band, you know,” Allison said coyly.

“I think you may have mentioned that a few million times.” Ben paused to read between the lines. “Wait, you want us to sing with them or something?”

“Maybe. They aren’t perfect, but they have this one song with amazing lyrics. It’s about a girl, and she’s watching this guy from far away that she’s totally enamored with. He doesn’t know she exists, but the girl knows everything about him, sees more than everyone else. It’s like she knows more about him than he does.”

“And I’m the girl.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m not doing it justice,” Allison sighed. “Just listen to it once.”

When the bell rang, Ben returned to school with Allison before doubling back and heading toward the parking lot. Just as his hands were on the exit door, someone called his name. He turned around and craned his head over the crowded hallway until he spotted Ms. Hughes waving him down. Ben almost bolted in terror, but it was too late. She had seen him. His teacher for science, a class that he had been skipping for the better part of two weeks, approached him with concern.

Ben’s feet were glued to the floor as he tried to think of what he should do or say as she navigated the swarming students.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out when she reached him.

“Where have you been?” she asked, looking him over for signs of illness.

Ben breathed in and waited for the words to come, but they didn’t. He had been so preoccupied with everything lately that he hadn’t dreamed up what his excuse would be when he inevitably returned to the classes he was skipping.

“Ben?” she prompted when he failed to answer. “Is everything all right? Is something wrong at home?”

As tempting as it was to lie and say he had a problematic home life, he knew it would only lead to more trouble. “I’m really sorry that I’ve been skipping, Ms. Hughes,” the words came finally. “It’s… It’s hard to explain what’s going on. I’m not in trouble or anything, but there’s someone who needs my help. That’s why I’ve been leaving school early.”

The school bell rang while she considered his words with an open expression of confusion. The students disappeared one by one until they were left virtually alone. He knew Ms. Hughes would stand there until she had her explanation. After all, she was often late to her own classes.

Ms. Hughes had been his teacher freshman year as well. Running late from lunch one day, Ben had seen Ms. Hughes and another female teacher standing very close together. They kissed and went their separate ways, never noticing Ben. Occasionally he had wanted to bring it up, to let her know he was gay as well, but it had always seemed such an odd subject to broach and he worried she would react defensively, but perhaps now was the time to tell her.

“Level with me, Ben,” Ms. Hughes said. “Do you need my help? Is there something I can do?”

Ben wanted to hug her. She was possibly the only teacher in the world who would offer to help instead of dragging him off to the principal’s office.

“It’s nothing too serious, but I really am needed.” Ben smiled to reassure her, but it only made her worry lines deepen.

“And you can’t tell me why?”

“I can. But not yet.” He could tell her now, but gay or not, she was still an adult and would probably insist that Tim’s parents would be informed and a proper nurse hired. All that mattered now was getting free of the school.

She looked into his eyes, hoping the truth would betray itself there. “When are you coming back to my class?”

“Monday,” he answered truthfully. Tim’s parents came back late on Sunday. That left only three more days before his domestic fantasies would come to an end.

“I’m trusting you, Ben,” she said. “You owe me an explanation. And an essay since you’ve missed the first test.”

“All right,” he grinned, relief washing over him. “I promise.”

Ms. Hughes watched him as he left, even though her classroom was full of students who were probably going wild in her absence. Once he could no longer be seen, she turned and walked slowly down the hallway, wondering what it was in Ben that she saw in herself.

__________

Chapter 8

“Honey, I’m home!” Ben crowed happily as he struggled with a grocery bag in each hand.