Page 67 of When Ben Loved Tim
“Sorry,” I hear Tim say. “It’s just that…”
I lower the menu. His expression is glum.
“Wasn’t any of this stuff hard for you?” he asks.
“What stuff?” I ask, my tone still clipped.
Tim shrugs. “You know.”
He won’t even say the word. Which does bring back a few memories. I sigh and set down the menu. “I was happy when I finally figured it out, but when my so-called friends bailed on me, I tried to go back to the way things were. I thought if I didn’t let anyone see me being gay, then the rumors would die down. So if I saw a hot guy—in real life or even on TV—I would look away. I tried to change the way I walk and talk, thinking that it wasn’t macho enough or something. I stopped singing, pretended to take an interest in sports, and was absolutely miserable.”
Tim leans forward, hanging on my every word, and I feel a burst of sympathy for him because I can tell that he relates. “So what happened?”
“I figured something out.” I reply. “Something really important. Do you know what’s worse than people hating you?”
He shakes his head. “What?”
“Hating yourself.”
Tim leans back, and I nearly laugh when he asks, “Are you sure?”
“Yes! Absolutely. I can’t control what people think about me, but I do get to decide how I feel about myself. So when I made the choice to be who I really am, I got one of my best friends back. Me.”
I expect him to roll his eyes. Instead he takes a deep breath. “Did it take you a while to—I don’t know—accept it all?”
“Yes,” I admit. I don’t think he’s trying to make a point. Tim seems genuinely curious. I remind myself that we’ve only known each other for a couple of months. This is still new to him. Granted, he’s got me as a guide, and we’ve gone further than I ever could alone. But maybe I’ve been dragging him along to get to all the good stuff I’ve yearned for, like sex, without giving him the same foundation I built for myself.
“What’s more important to you?” I ask. “Being happy or making other people happy?”
Tim thinks about it. “I honestly don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” I assure him. “Let’s flip it around. What matters more, your mom being happy, or your mom makingyouhappy.”
“I want her to be happy,” Tim says instantly.
“Good! How do you think she would answer the same question?”
“She’d want me to be happy,” he says before hesitating. “But I don’t think she’d understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why I would risk going to Hell.”
That makes it more complicated for sure. I didn’t have to worry about religion being an obstacle with my family. His guilty expression makes me wonder if it’s also an issue for him. “Do you believe that?” I ask. “Do you think you’ll go to Hell for being gay?”
“I’m not gay,” Tim says. “I like girls.”
Oof! We really do have a long way to go. Maybe he’s bisexual, which is fine, but I’ve never heard him use the word to describe himself. “Fine,” I say. “Do you think you’ll go to Hell for lying with another man?” I ask, intentionally paraphrasing the Christian bible. “Or that you deserve to be put to death?”
“It’s not up to me!” Tim splutters.
“What about me?” I press. “I’m not turning back from this. If you got to play god for a day, what would my fate be? Would you strike me down in wrath? Or turn me straight?”
His handsome features wince in sympathy before he shakes his head. “No. I wouldn’t change you for the world, Benjamin. I like you too much.”
My heart is thudding, but I don’t get to respond, because we’re interrupted by the arrival of our drinks. We explain that we need more time, and as Tim’s gaze repeatedly seeks me out from over the menu, I decide that he does too. For now, I’ll try to be a little more patient.
So when we get to the cinema and he suggests I find us some good seats while he waits in line for popcorn and drinks, I don’t call him on the reason why. And when he joins me in the back row and takes note of every person who walks into the theater, I don’t bother pointing out that most people in our school have already seen this movie. In fact, I don’t think it’ll be showing for much longer, since most of the seats remain unoccupied. When the movie starts, we have the entire row to ourselves. Tim relaxes visibly. Then he groans.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67 (reading here)
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155