Page 40 of Something Like Winter

Tim’s mother was pleased. “And what about you? A fair-haired boy like you must also have a pretty girl.”

“Well, actually—”

Ben had that look on his face, so Tim kicked his leg under the table. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second.Krista?that look said.For that, I’m telling them.And to drive the point home, Ben kicked him back.

“I have a boyfriend.”

The words were out. Forever. Ben had spoken them and couldn’t take them back. His mother appeared puzzled, maybe wondering if her near-perfect English had failed her. His father cleared his throat repeatedly like he had swallowed a bug.

“He’s really great,” Ben pressed on. “Goes to the same school as we do.”

Tim was sure Ben was going to out him to his parents, right then and there. But then Ben started talking about Mexican cuisine, as if the bomb he had dropped was nothing more than idle chitchat. And Ben kept talking, tossing out subjects that his parents grasped on to because they were much more comfortable. By the end of the meal, it was like none of it had happened.

“If I knew one ofGordito’sfriends was coming by,” his mother said, “I would have madetres leches.”

“Three milks?” Ben tried.

Tim chuckled. “It’s a type of cake.”

His mother smiled. “And it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Tim said. All right, enough weird family time. “We have to get going or we’ll miss the film.”

Ben insisted on staying to help clear the table, Tim practically shoving him out of the house afterwards. Not because he was upset, but because he couldn’t wait to be alone. He kissed Ben the second they were in his car.

“That was awesome!” he said.

“Yeah.” Ben gave a humble nod. “I think I did okay.”

“You were incredible! You got more conversation out of my parents than I have in the last ten years.”

Ben smiled. “They didn’t seem so bad.”

No, they didn’t. Maybe the silence over the years had been Tim’s fault. He could learn a lot from Ben. Tim started the car and revved the engine.

“Where are we going?” Ben asked.

“To the movies.”

“On a Saturday night where everyone can see us?”

Tim grinned at him and nodded. Why the hell not? Ben had been right this whole time. There wasn’t anything to be scared of. Once they were cruising down the street, he reached over and took his hand.

“There’s just one thing I don’t understand,” Ben said.

“What?”

“Why did your mom keep calling youGordito?”

Tim groaned. “It’s just a pet name, like how your mom calls you ‘honey’ in English.”

“Oh.” Ben mulled this over. “Well, doesn’tgordomean fat?”

“Mm-hm.”

“So your mom is basically calling you ‘fatty?’”

“I was a big baby!” Tim said defensively.