Page 154 of When Ben Loved Tim

Then I stand. I leave the necklace and key on top of the folded clothes. My feet feel heavy when walking to the open door, where I hesitate and turn around, unable to resist. Tim rolls over to face me. His eyes are open, revealing depths of emotion, like he finally decided to stop hiding. I’m surprised by the strength I feel rise up inside of me. And the certainty.

I love him.

But I also love myself.

I take one last look at the handsome boy who stole my heart. He pushes himself up on an elbow and slides his hand across the sheets, as if showing me where I could be. I fight against my tears, but they come anyway when I shake my head. Tim swallows, his face crumpling before he nods, as if he understands. A sad smile tugs at my cheek. His chin trembles before he manages to do the same. I raise my hand in parting. Then I turn and softly close the door behind me as I go.

Epilogue

“If you join our Lucky Licks loyalty program, you always get a free topping of your choice. And every ten visits, you’ll earn a double-decker cone or cup.” I’ve said these words so often that they haunt my dreams. I found myself singing them in the shower the other day. The jingle I came up with was really catchy too. I might record a demo and send a copy to the rich hippies who founded this frozen yogurt chain.

The customer sighs at my sales pitch. “I just want a bottle of water,” she says. “Can I please just order that?”

“Well sure,” I say, not willing to let her off the hook yet. But only because I have an audience. My best friend is standing nearby. “But that would technically count as a visit, meaning I could add a sticker to your new Lucky Licks loyalty card.”

“No thank you,” the woman says, digging in her purse.

“Would you like the sticker anyway?” I ask. “It’s really cute. Just like the one on my shirt.”

I breathe in to make my chest swell against the work-issued polo I’m wearing. The woman barely glances at it. “I’m lactose intolerant,” she says. “Even breathing the air in here is making my stomach feel funny.”

“One bottle of water coming right up.”

Slinging frozen yogurt isn’t the worst job in the world. Cleaning out the toilets can be, especially in such circumstances.

“Oh my god!” Allison says when we’re alone again. “I thought she would never leave! Some people are so rude. We were in the middle of a conversation!”

“Tell me about it,” I say. “No really,” I add, grabbing a cloth and wiping the counter like a bartender. “You were describing the hot guy who asked you to dance and how he took his shirt off. I’m crushing on him already.”

“Well, don’t,” Allison says, stirring the melted remains of a tiramisu twister. “He started swinging the shirt above his head like a stripper—”

“Still works for me,” I interject.

“—and he wouldn’t stop. Not until he hit some poor girl in the face.”

“Was it you?” I ask.

“No! But only because I have fast reflexes and kept ducking. Then he gets this funny look on his face and says, ‘You sure have big lips. I bet they feel good all sorts of places. I’ve never kissed a black girl before.’ So I said, ‘There’s a reason for that.’ before walking the hell away.”

“And some people say that romance is dead,” I reply. “You got his phone number, right?”

“Oh totally. I’m inviting him to move in with us.”

“Perfect! I’ve gotta see those smooth moves for myself. I’ve always wanted a ceiling fan.”

“Therewereplenty of cute guys at the party,” Allison says. “Two of them were dancing together.”

“All the good ones are already taken.”

“Not all of them,” she says pointedly.

I glance behind me, like I don’t know who she’s referring to. Then I drop the act. “I’m still not ready.”

Which is ironic, because I’m spoiled for choice. There are plenty of gay guys around. I’m just one among the herd.

Allison shakes her head. “Nobody is saying you have to leap into another relationship. Get out there and mingle!”

Years have passed since Tim and I broke up, but I still think of him. Every single day. I’ve dated a few guys and had some flings. None of them recent. I just haven’t felt that same spark with anyone. I know from experience that when I do, the choice won’t be mine, so I don’t see the sense in chasing after what’s outside my control. Although, like Allison said, it doesn’t hurt to mingle. That would increase the odds in my favor. Not that I’m in a hurry.