The rest of their meal was accompanied by awkward silence. Ben knew he would have to make amends later, but he was in too foul a mood to back-peddle or smooth things over at the moment. The rest of the school day passed without incident, but the grumbling thunderstorm outside helped to fuel his sullenness until the last period was over.

The rain had at least stopped by the time he was buckling on his Rollerblades. Allison’s car had made it out of the shop for two whole days before breaking down again. Ben had abandoned his bike and decided to start using the inline skates he had begged for and received last Christmas. He wasn’t very good yet, but he managed to do everything but stop gracefully. A meandering bike path that wasn’t used much was his choice of route today. The detour would take him longer to get home, but it would also help him avoid other students. He just wanted to make it home to the comfort of mindless TV and the leftover cookie bars his mom had baked the night before.

Trees became a blur as Ben skated faster than he usually dared. He was finally getting the hang of these things! The woods gave way to a manmade channel clear of foliage. Here the ground dipped low and then high again, winding like an empty river through the woods. Ben always wondered what purpose it served, until one hurricane season when it rained nonstop for two weeks. The ditch took the excess rain water and moved it safely away to somewhere less civilized. That was the only year he had seen the ditch full of water. Otherwise it remained a dry but green miniature valley.

Ben was beginning to feel better as he zipped along the path that ran along the ditch. That’s when he saw Tim. He was further along, wearing his usual jogging outfit except this time with the addition of a backpack. Obviously he had decided to jog home rather than taking his Richie Rich sports car. Instead of the usual wave of hormones Ben experienced whenever he saw Tim, this time he felt only irritation. He didn’t want to be reminded of the things he couldn’t have. He wanted solitude.

“Get the fuck off my path,” Ben muttered under his breath as he thrust with his legs and increased his velocity. He felt like a bullet shot from a gun, and right now he wanted nothing more than to barrel into Tim and knock him aside without even so much as a backwards glance. Why the hell not? He was sick of being the victim of everyone else’s barbs and lunacy. Why not strike back? He wouldn’t knock Tim over, but he could at least give him a scare by cutting directly in front of him, maybe jostling him a little bit in the process.

Ben grinned with wicked determination as he neared, but at the last moment he began to panic. There simply wasn’t enough room on the path to pass by safely, at least not at this speed. Maybe a skilled skater could have done it, but Ben was still too green. He was more likely to veer off the path and injure himself. Tim was less than ten feet away when Ben decided to abandon his reckless course of action. He tilted his left foot to brake, before realizing that the brake was on the other skate. In his panic he tried to turn, but his left foot was still tilted, causing Ben to trip over his own leg. He was airborne for the briefest of moments before slamming into Tim, knocking the jogger off the path and into the ditch.

Impacting with Tim had mostly halted Ben’s flight through the air. He landed with a thud on the grass next to the paved path, shaken but otherwise unscathed. From the gasp of pain and long string of cursing, it was clear that this wasn’t the case for his victim. Ben pushed himself to his knees and looked over the ditch’s edge. Tim was sitting up, supporting one leg in the air. He lowered it tentatively to the ground. As soon as the foot touched grass, Tim hollered hoarsely and lifted it back up again.

“Oh, god! I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Ben sputtered as he stood and slid down into the ravine.

Tim’s face struggled with a mixture of confusion and anger. “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t-- I’m just a klutz.” Ben had reached Tim’s side and stretched out his arms as if he intended to pick Tim up before he realized how unrealistic this was. “Is your leg broken?”

“Leg’s fine,” Tim answered, turning his attention back to the bloody limb that looked anything but okay. “My ankle, maybe not.”

Ben dropped to his knees to get a better look. The ankle might have been a little swollen, but the flesh torn away from the shin was worrying. There wasn’t any sign of exposed bone, thank god, but it was bleeding way too much.

Ben couldn’t take his eye from the injury. “We have to get you to a doctor. Can you walk?”

Tim lowered his leg a second time, managing this time to only hiss in pain instead of screaming. “You’re going to have to help me,” he said.

“Wait.” Ben unsnapped the straps on his skates and starting digging through his backpack for his shoes. The five most awkward minutes of his life followed as he struggled to get them on and tied, Tim watching him silently the entire time. “Right,” Ben said as the final lace was tied. “How do we do this?”

Tim craned his neck around to examine the steep slope they would have to ascend before they could get him to his feet. “You pull me up there, I guess.”

“Pull you how?” Ben asked, suddenly feeling even smaller than he usually did.

“Just grab me under the arms and pull. I’ll try to help as much as I can.”

Ben got into position behind Tim. There was a very silly moment where he stood and stared. Both of Tim’s arms were raised to his sides, as if he were going to start flapping them in an effort to take flight. Ben felt like asking if he really had permission to touch him, before he remembered the seriousness of the situation. He hooked his arms underneath Tim’s armpits and pulled. He only managed to heave the victim of his idiotic actions half a foot, but on the next attempt Tim kicked with his good leg, bringing the movement to a little more than a foot. They proceeded in this manner until they were both on level ground again.

Ben was breathing hard from the exertion, Tim most likely from the pain. After a moment of rest they tackled the job of getting Tim upright. They managed after a brief struggle, with Tim putting pressure on the injured leg twice more out of habit. Soon enough he was stooped but standing, with one arm over Ben’s shoulders. They tried a few experimental hopping-steps and made it to the sidewalk.

“I guess we make it to the nearest house and have them drive me home,” Tim said.

“Your house is really close if we cut through the trees there,” Ben said without thinking. His right arm was around Tim’s torso, and he could feel the muscles tense in reaction. How could he have been so stupid? Not only had he revealed himself as being an insane psychopath who physically lashed out at boys he liked, but he had followed it up with confirmation that he was a stalker to boot.

“Let’s go then,” Tim muttered a moment later, choosing not to question how a stranger would know where he lived.

The effort of holding Tim up was a welcome distraction, both to the self-depreciating thoughts going through Ben’s head and the excitement of being so intimately close to him. Now was not the time or the place to get aroused over physical contact, and Ben was determined to end the day with only two strikes against his sanity instead of three.

They shuffled through the brief width of woods until they reached a wooden privacy fence, the only thing that stood between them and the civilized suburbs beyond. A glance left and right confirmed that any neighboring houses had the same barrier installed against the wilderness outside.

“Fuck,” Tim swore. “How much further would it be if this fence wasn’t here?”

“Half a block,” Ben said, looking away to hide his embarrassment.

“Support me,” Tim said after hopping one step closer to the fence and reaching out to grab the top of it.