Page 35 of Something Like Winter

Tim kept quiet.

“‘Trouble at home.’” Stacy laughed. “Has anyone broken up over a bad home life? Ever? Come on! Krista may be stupid, but give me some credit.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tim said. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No.”

Stacy Shelly eyed him like a viper. “Well, whoever she is, you better keep her a secret.”

Tim didn’t ask her to expound on that threat. “Are you done?”

“Almost. She wants you to come sit with us.”

Tim stared. “Krista?”

“Yes, Tim. She’s in love with you. That means she’s already forgiven you or thinks she can win you back. Or maybe she’s just dumb. Regardless, you don’t need to sit here like a scrub.”

But Tim did just that for the rest of lunch period. The next day he tried a tentative smile in class that Krista returned, which made him comfortable enough to sit with her at lunch. She didn’t try anything, didn’t put her hand on his arm like she always used to or press him for answers. Stacy still scrutinized his every move, but with Krista, Tim felt things were going to be okay.

* * * * *

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Tim asked, stopping before the office door to his studio and turning around.

“What?” Ben asked, his eyes big with concern.

“Me painting you nude.”

Ben pushed him playfully. Tim laughed, unlocking the door. This wasn’t the first time Ben had been here. That had been Christmas, a holiday Tim usually despised, but Ben had made it just as magical as those cheesy television specials. Even more so. Then Tim had brought Ben to his studio, opening one more door to his soul. In the months that followed, they would often hide away here on the weekends when the office was empty. Or on a Friday night, like this one, after everyone had left. All his father’s employees were either out wining and dining dates or at home comforting themselves with tubs of ice cream, for today was the most dreaded holiday of them all.

Tim always found the pressure behind Valentine’s Day irritating. Everyone had to hook up with someone before the holiday or feel left out. Or jump through hoops for anyone they already had. Krista had found someone new just the day before, conveniently enough. The new guy was handsome, plucked from the semi-popular crowd where Darryl usually got his eager-to-please girls. Krista invited her new beau to sit at their lunch table, which was awkward because she kept watching Tim for a reaction.

So school had been miserable, but the evening held potential. Tim walked around the studio, clicking on the lamps Ben had helped him shop for to replace the cold florescent light. The lamps cast shadows and created warmth, setting the right mood for him to paint. And tonight they would help set the scene. Tim didn’t want flowers or chocolates for Valentine’s Day. He wanted to paint.

“The clothing stays on,” Ben said, sitting on a stool.

“For the painting at least,” Tim murmured, taking his place behind the easel.

Truth be told, it wouldn’t matter either way. Ben’s face was his solitary focus. Tim had tried from memory a couple of times already, but his mental images were too fluid and shifting. Besides, he’d never had a live model before. Tim didn’t paint in front of anyone, didn’t even take art classes. Everything he knew was learned through trial and error or gleaned from the books he kept in his studio.

“So what do I do?” Ben asked, shifting uncomfortably.

“Just relax.” Tim squeezed paints on to the palette, eager to begin.

“Can I still talk to you?”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I’ll listen.”

“Ha, ha,” Ben deadpanned, but then he smiled when he saw Tim make the first couple of strokes. “You’re going to let me see, right?”

“Maybe.” Tim worked in silence a few minutes. Then his subject spoke again.

“Ronnie is taking Allison to Café Annie.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s supposed to be one of the best restaurants in Houston. It’s really expensive.”