“Yeah, fine, but that still doesn’t eliminate any of the other places we’ve talked about,” Ben said. “Not returning to Houston is one thing, but going somewhere new is entirely different. What about the band we’re going to start in Seattle? Or our hippie commune in Sante Fe?”
Allison rolled her eyes, trying not to smile. “Seriously though, think about it. Finding a job and starting our careers is going to be hard enough without the added hassle of relocating.”
Easy for her to say. Ben still didn’t know what he wanted to do after graduation. He shoved his vanilla cappuccino away. No point in suffering the taste of coffee if it wasn’t going to earn him some procrastination. “I thought we agreed that Austin is overrun with fresh graduates looking for jobs. That’s a lot of competition.”
Allison didn’t seem to hear him. She was staring over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and flicked back to Ben, then over his shoulder, before once again focusing on him.
“What’s up?” Ben said, starting to turn around.
“No!” Allison said quickly. “It’s nothing. Just-- What were you saying?”
Ben didn’t answer, choosing instead to scrutinize his friend who was suddenly acting crazy.
“Don’t turn around,” Allison pleaded. “You’ll regret it if you do. Oh god! Never mind.”
“Benjamin?”
His skin tingled at the sound of that voice, shivers running up his spine to the base of his skull. Ben turned around. And there he was. Tim Wyman, floating through the café’s jumbled tables and chairs like a ghost from the past. He looked exactly the same, and yet completely different. His teenage body had given way to manhood, accentuating every handsome feature. The jaw was stronger, the cheeks more defined. The body beneath the tight, artificially aged T-shirt solidified into something showcased in fashion catalogs and porn magazines. Worst of all, those damnable silver eyes were already smiling at him.
“It’s really you, isn’t it?” Tim had reached the table and put his hand on Ben’s shoulder.
At his touch, Ben was seventeen again, clutching the grass while watching Tim walk away from him and knowing the damage was irreparable, that no matter how much he begged or pleaded, no matter how badly he wanted to feel Tim’s touch again, he never would. Their time together was over. Except, here he was again.
“Yeah,” Ben responded, not even remembering the question anymore. His chest was so tight he could barely speak a single word. He shrugged Tim’s hand away, an act that probably seemed cold, but his only other option was to scream.
The light in Tim’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. “Man. So are you just visiting or what?”
“I’m enrolled here,” Ben answered, heart thudding in his ears.
“Since when? I thought you were in Chicago?”
As one, Tim and Ben both looked to Allison. She gave Tim a blank look before turning to Ben. Her eyes said “Don’t be mad at me,” and Ben understood. She had previously run into Tim and had told him Ben was in Chicago. Maybe he actually had been at the time, but she had never mentioned the encounter to Ben, which could only mean one thing.
“I’m guessing we go to the same school?” Ben asked, his focus still on his best friend.
“Yeah,” she confirmed.
“Jesus,” Tim said, sitting down at the table.
This was too much. “I have to go.” Ben stood clumsily, the chair almost tipping over behind him and was out the door before anyone could say anything to stop him.
“You should have told me!” he heard Tim scolding Allison before the door of the coffee shop closed.
Ben headed down the street at a pace desperate to become a run. He was heading toward Jace’s apartment until he remembered Jace would be out of town for three more days. Home was in the other direction, which would mean having to walk back by the coffee shop. Ben turned and saw Tim running down the sidewalk toward him.
“Wait,” Tim called out. “Please.”
Ben looked down at his feet, half-expecting to see the same dopey Smashing Pumpkins T-shirt that he was wearing the night that Tim had jogged past him.
“Hey,” Tim panted as he came to a stop. It sounded so casual, as if they were two friends who regularly saw each other.
“What do you want?” Ben shook his head, unable to imagine the answer.
“I don’t know,” Tim said. “I just want to talk to you, I guess.”
Ben breathed in heavily, the smell of Tim filling his nose and tingling on his tongue. This wasn’t happening. “I can’t.”
“I know you’re mad at me,” Tim said, stooping to catch Ben’s eye and failing. “Look, take this.”
A cell phone was pressed into Ben’s hand.
“I’ll call tonight, okay? We’re both in shock right now and need time to think, but I still want to talk to you. Cool?”
Ben nodded. Why the hell not? He could always dump the phone somewhere if he changed his mind.
“All right. I’m going now,” Tim started to walk away, but hesitated. “You were right, Benjamin.”
Ben finally raised his head. “About what?”
“About a lot of things. See you around!”
Tim flashed his winner’s smile and left. Ben watched him walk down the street, expecting him to disappear any moment like a phantom.
__________
Chapter 21
There was no good cop, bad cop in this interrogation. Only bad cop, and he wanted answers. If need be he would cut off his prisoner from food or water. Or refuse to pay his share of the rent, or something.
“Sophomore year,” Allison reported from the couch, while Ben stood over her, arms crossed like an angry parent. “I would always pass him after composition. I noticed him right away, but it took Tim ages to see me.”
“But one day he did and stopped to talk to you?”
“Mm-hm. The first thing out of his mouth was a question about you. He wanted to know where you were, how you were doing.”
“And?”
“I didn’t tell him anything. Well, I said you were in Chicago, but that was it.”
“Was I still?”
“No. I lied and would have again today if you hadn’t been there.” Allison crossed her own arms. “I did it to protect you.”
“You could have told me. I wouldn’t have run off to meet him.”
“No, but you would have ended up in that hallway one day, just out of curiosity.”
Ben’s shoulders sagged. He knew she was right.
“So, anything else?”
“Not really. Eventually Tim gave up trying to pump me for information and we didn’t see each other after that year.”
Ben sat down on the couch and leaned against her for support. “Do you think I should answer when he calls?”
“No. Think about Jace.”
“Why? Talking on the phone isn’t cheating. It’s not like I’m going to have phone sex with him or something.”
Allison didn’t answer right away. Ben could tell that she was holding something back, trying to decide whether it would help or harm her case. Ben waited. If she decided not to tell him, he would force it out of her somehow.
“I’ve heard things,” Allison said at last.
“Go on.”
“Tim has a sugar daddy.”
“What do you mean?” Ben asked, his stomach clenching.
“Some old guy. I don’t really know details, but he’s supposed to be rolling in it. You really think someone as pretty as Tim is hanging around a rich old guy for fun?”
Ben didn’t reply. He didn’t want to imagine his high school sweetheart grunting over some old bag of bones for cash. Maybe he shouldn’t take Tim’s call. Why tarnish his memories even further with more lurid details?
“Why don’t you call Jace instead?” Allison suggested.
She was right, of course. That’s just what he would do.
* * * * *
Summer burned and blazed with a vengeance, as if it had something to prove. Ben tossed and turned in bed, the sheets tangled up around his legs. The window air conditioning unit couldn’t cope with more than mild warmth, so he had shut it off and opened the other window. Cicadas buzzed outside, invigorated by the heat.