Page 55 of When Ben Loved Tim

“Probably,” Tim says. “The difference is, my parents didn’t want children at all. I overheard them talking about it to another couple a few years ago. You haven’t seen them together. My mom and dad, I mean. They only have eyes for each other, which sounds great, unless you’re on the outside.” He glances at me with a guilty expression. “My mom loves me. Don’t think she’s a bad person, because she’s not. I have a lot of happy memories, but nothing like what I saw downstairs. We’re a small family. My mom’s relatives all live in Mexico. I haven’t seen my dad’s side of the family since I was little, so that whole family vibe…” He shrugs. “I don’t really know what it’s like.”

“Being an only child must be different,” I say. Karen and I were often at odds with each other, but we still teamed up when it came to all the fun stuff that kids like to do.

He shrugs. “I guess. It would’ve been nice to have a brother or sister around.”

As much as I like learning more about him, there’s something I need to know. “What about us?”

Tim sighs. “That’s what I’m trying to explain. When my ex-girlfriend said that I raped her, it really messed with my mom. I could tell. She always claimed she believed me, but you know how it is. Part of you wonders anyway. And she probably imagined it, even if she didn’t want to.” He grimaces before continuing. “My mom is really religious. A diehard Catholic. If I was like you, she’d think I was going to Hell.”

I scoff at this. “If there is a god, I refuse to believe he’s that much of a jerk.”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not,” Tim says, shaking his head. “She’d believe it anyway. Her own son, burning in Hell for all eternity. I don’t know how she’d sleep at night. The allegations already put her through so much. That was the worst part, knowing that it hurt her.”

“What about your dad?” I ask.

The color drains from his face. “He hardly said a word to me. Like he thought I was guilty. Or maybe he was pissed at me for upsetting my mom, I don’t know.”

“So if he found out that you’re dating a guy?”

“He’d disown me,” Tim says. “I know what he thinks about gay people but uh… you don’t need to hear any of that.”

I consider what he told me. Tim has one parent he doesn’t want to distress, and another he doesn’t want to alienate. That’s a tough position to be in. I can give him credit for that, but it doesn’t answer my most pressing question. “You don’t have to put a title on it but… Do you like guys?”

Tim seems to struggle within himself. He studies his feet. Then he glances up at the painting before turning toward me. “I don’t know. But I like you.”

What few barriers remain come tumbling down. When he leans toward me, I meet him halfway. Tim presses his lips to mine, his hands on either side of my face as he inhales deeply through his nose. Then he pulls back, his eyes pleading with me to understand. And I think I do. Enough to forgive him and try again. Except…

“What about Krista?”

Tim’s expression is apologetic. “It’s going to look weird if I refuse to date anyone. Krista doesn’t want much from me. She’s a virgin and plans on staying that way until she gets married. All we’ve ever done is kiss, and I like that because… I don’t want my mom to have doubts, you know? About any of it. If she sees that I’m with a different girl and there aren’t any accusations.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want her to think I’m a fucking rapist. And it’ll keep her from wondering about the rest too.”

“That you’ve made out with another guy?” I shrug, like it’s not a big deal. “That sort of thing happens on a dare. Or is it going to go further than that?”

“I want it to,” Tim says, his eyes searching mine again. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” I admit. I can’t pretend otherwise, even to make him squirm. “How’s this going to work?”

“I don’t know. We can figure it out together.”

I’m setting myself up to get hurt again. I can hear Allison in the back of my mind, warning me. She’s soon banished to the depths of my imagination. I want this too much. But I’d be a fool if I didn’t test the waters before leaping back in. “My friends and I are going to the haunted houses later on,” I say casually. “Come with us.”

Tim hesitates. “We need to be careful.”

“It’s downtown. And a big city. I’ve never seen anyone from school there before. Or at least I didn’t notice them, because it’s always crowded.”

His brow furrows up again.

“And it’s my birthday,” I press.

If he can’t take one small step for me, then I don’t see how we’ll ever dance together.

“Okay,” Tim says. “You’ve got it.”

He places his hand over mine. I notice traces of orange paint beneath his fingernails. My heart is bursting with joy. Those birthday wishes sure are powerful!

“If I grab a hammer and nails,” I say to him, nodding at the painting, “will you do the rest?”

Tim smirks. “If you want something hung, I’m your man.”