Page 22 of When Ben Loved Tim

I get my wish. Tim stretches himself out on the couch in his father’s den. I angle one of the side chairs to face him. We talk a little more about our pasts, and after a while, his eyelids begin to droop. I don’t take it personally. I figure it’s either the painkillers or the rough night at the hospital. I let him sleep, using the opportunity to study his face, which I find incredibly handsome, even without those silver eyes lighting up the room. I like his strong nose and his kissable lips. His hair isn’t styled and looks soft to the touch. I wish I could run my fingers through it. Or snuggle up with him on the couch, because I wouldn’t mind a nap. I check the clock and become instantly alert. School is almost over! I’m supposed to pick up Allison!

I take his car keys, and as quietly as possible, leave the house. I’m not too late when pulling up to the school. I can tell that Allison was getting worried, but when she sees me, she perks up and hops inside.

“Tell me everything!” she cries.

I do. Except for the allegations that I promised to keep secret.

“He’s really nice,” I finish, frustrated that it’s so hard to convey the magnitude of feelings developing inside of me.

“I’m happy for you,” Allison says. “So what’s the plan? Are we hanging out at your place? Or going shopping somewhere? Oh! There’s a new album Ineedyou to hear. You’re going to love it!”

I wince apologetically. “I have to go back to Tim’s place, so I can make him dinner.”

“Boo!” Allison says, drawing the word out. “I can’t believe he’s taking my place already.” She grins to show she’s not actually upset. “For the record, I have romantic plans of my own.”

“You do?”

Allison nods happily. “Ronnie wants to take me out for ice cream tomorrow.”

“For ice cream?” I repeat with a snort. “What is he, your grandpa?”

“I think it’s sweet,” Allison says, shoving me playfully. “Coffee would have been more sophisticated, but this way, I don’t have to pretend to like it.”

“So is this a date?” I ask.

Allison scrunches up her nose. “More like a pre-date, I guess. Which is good, because I’m not sure about Ronnie.”

“But he’s so cute!”

“True, but there’s a reason we broke up freshman year. We’ll see how much he’s changed. If he has…” She eyes me knowingly. “Pretty soon we’ll both be busy gettin’biz-eh!”

I’m so taken by the idea that I have to slam on the brakes to avoid rear-ending a car. Which is ironic, because I was thinking about getting rear-ended myself. Allison doesn’t complain about the sudden stop. She’s not the best driver either.

“I still have time to hang out,” I tell her.

“Good!” Allison reaches for the radio. “Let’s listen to some tracks.”

“One more thing,” I say. “After I have dinner with my family, I’m going to leave so I can hang out with you. Wink wink. So if it comes up later…”

“I’ll say we’ve been practicing for the talent show.”

“Oh god,” I say with an exaggerated shudder. “I’m glad that isn’t until the end of the year, or we’d be hearing about it from Mrs. Hammond every day.”

“You’d think,” Allison replies, “but guess what?”

“No!”

“Yup! She asked why you weren’t in class—which went fine, by the way—and wanted to know if we’d given any thought to which song we want to perform.”

“She doesn’t expect us to start practicingnow,” I say in disbelief.

Allison shrugs. “Last year we weaseled out of it by saying we didn’t have time to prepare.”

“I’ll come up with a better excuse,” I promise her.

Our choir teacher is great. Performing on stage doesn’t intimidate me. It’s the specific audience that I dread. No matter how much ass we kick, a lot of people will pretend to hate the song because the local homo is singing it.

“But if wedidenter the talent show,” Allison says casually, “which song would we choose?”