Page 149 of When Ben Loved Tim

He looks like he’s about to have a stroke. “C’mon man,” he pleads. “Just go. Please!”

I grit my teeth before forcing myself to continue. “We can do whatever we want. Even if that means we both get jobs to pay for your tuition. At least we’d be together. Right?”

“I can’t deal with this right now,” Tim replies. “We’ll talk later. Okay?”

He retreats before I have a chance to respond, the door swinging shut behind him. I stare in disbelief as it clicks shut. Then I walk over to one of the dumpsters and kick it, which only makes my toes hurt. I pace back and forth while growling from the pain. I’m tempted to walk around to the entrance and let myself back in, or pound on the door until someone hears me. I don’t care who.

The door squeaks open behind me. Tim is standing there with a bundle of decorations in his arms. And my clothes.

“What are you still doing here?” he demands. He drops something so the door can’t shut completely. The paper moon, which has been crumpled up. “Fuck it. Here.” He walks over to me, tilting my clothes off the top of the pile, like I’m supposed to catch them. I step back so they fall to the ground. “Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “Why do you have to make this so damn hard?”

Tim walks to the dumpster, tossing strings of lights and extinguished candles inside. Then he turns around to gather up my clothes.

“You need to make a decision,” I tell him. “I know you want to please your parents. And that you’re worried about what people think. It’ll be okay, I promise. They’ll come around to the idea when they realize how happy you are, and until they do, you’ll have me. We’ll have each other!”

“I don’t need a fucking ultimatum right now,” Tim says, shoving my bundled-up clothes into my arms. “I need you to leave!”

“No!” I say, my voice cracking. “You need to choose, because I can’t do this anymore, Tim. It hurts!”

He barely seems to hear me, which makes it all the more ironic when he says, “Are you deaf? Fucking go!” Tim grabs my shoulders with shaking hands to spin me around. “Get the hell out of here!” I feel him push from behind. The tip of my shoe catches on something and I trip, but my arms are full of clothes. I barely drop them in time to catch myself. The physical pain is nothing compared to what I feel inside. I’m on my hands and knees, a dumpster inches from my face. I roll over on my butt to stare up at him in shock.

“Oh man,” Tim says, reaching for me. “I didn’t mean to—”

I slap his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

Tim grabs the sides of his head, like it’s about to split in two and he’s trying to hold it together. “Benjamin,” he says, his voice hoarse when he drops his hands. “I’m sorry. I really am. But you’ve gotta go.”

I stand up and brush myself off. Then I look him square in the eye. “Choose. Last chance.”

Tim picks up my fallen clothes. He can’t seem to meet my gaze, even when handing them to me. I watch as he turns, kicks the paper moon out of the way, and lets the door close behind him as he goes.

I stand there devoid of thought and feeling until the shock wears off. Then I feel my heart break. I always thought that was merely an expression, but the pain is very real. A mixture of the physical and emotional. I’ve never felt anything so potent. Not since I fell in love with him.

I don’t wait anymore. I turn and walk away from the building, aimless as the darkness envelops me. I’m not sure how long I walk, or in which direction. Only that I end up in a park, the grass wet when I fall to my knees and begin to sob.

* * * * *

The truth will set you free, but that doesn’t mean you’ll like where you end up. Captivity hurts. This is even worse. I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Allison’s car. She came and got me after I exhausted myself, wandering around while blinded by tears. I wept in her arms when she found me, and cried again when we parked somewhere so I could tell her what happened. Now I feel drained and exhausted. We’ve just pulled up in front of my house.

“Want me to come inside?” she asks.

I glance at the clock. “No. You’ll get in trouble.”

“I don’t think my dad will mind. When I told him that you needed me, he offered to drive. I think you have a new fan.”

I manage a half-hearted smile. “Let him know I appreciate it. I’ll be okay though. I just want to get into bed.”

And cry. I’m not sure that I’ll ever stop.

She unbuckles her seatbelt to hug me. “You know I’m just a phone call away. Or just come over. I don’t care what time it is.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll check in with you tomorrow,” she says. “I love you, Ben.”

“I love you too.”

I tromp to the front door, pleading with the universe to give me a break—just this once—because I can’t let my mom see me like this. She’ll be excited about the tuxedo until she notices my face. Then I’ll have to explain what happened all over again. As understanding as she always is, what I need right now is to curl up in a fetal position until the pain goes away.