“And I’m the girl.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m not doing it justice,” Allison sighed. “Just listen to it once.”
When the bell rang, Ben returned to school with Allison before doubling back and heading toward the parking lot. Just as his hands were on the exit door, someone called his name. He turned around and craned his head over the crowded hallway until he spotted Ms. Hughes waving him down. Ben almost bolted in terror, but it was too late. She had seen him. His teacher for science, a class that he had been skipping for the better part of two weeks, approached him with concern.
Ben’s feet were glued to the floor as he tried to think of what he should do or say as she navigated the swarming students.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out when she reached him.
“Where have you been?” she asked, looking him over for signs of illness.
Ben breathed in and waited for the words to come, but they didn’t. He had been so preoccupied with everything lately that he hadn’t dreamed up what his excuse would be when he inevitably returned to the classes he was skipping.
“Ben?” she prompted when he failed to answer. “Is everything all right? Is something wrong at home?”
As tempting as it was to lie and say he had a problematic home life, he knew it would only lead to more trouble. “I’m really sorry that I’ve been skipping, Ms. Hughes,” the words came finally. “It’s… It’s hard to explain what’s going on. I’m not in trouble or anything, but there’s someone who needs my help. That’s why I’ve been leaving school early.”
The school bell rang while she considered his words with an open expression of confusion. The students disappeared one by one until they were left virtually alone. He knew Ms. Hughes would stand there until she had her explanation. After all, she was often late to her own classes.
Ms. Hughes had been his teacher freshman year as well. Running late from lunch one day, Ben had seen Ms. Hughes and another female teacher standing very close together. They kissed and went their separate ways, never noticing Ben. Occasionally he had wanted to bring it up, to let her know he was gay as well, but it had always seemed such an odd subject to broach and he worried she would react defensively, but perhaps now was the time to tell her.
“Level with me, Ben,” Ms. Hughes said. “Do you need my help? Is there something I can do?”
Ben wanted to hug her. She was possibly the only teacher in the world who would offer to help instead of dragging him off to the principal’s office.
“It’s nothing too serious, but I really am needed.” Ben smiled to reassure her, but it only made her worry lines deepen.
“And you can’t tell me why?”
“I can. But not yet.” He could tell her now, but gay or not, she was still an adult and would probably insist that Tim’s parents would be informed and a proper nurse hired. All that mattered now was getting free of the school.
She looked into his eyes, hoping the truth would betray itself there. “When are you coming back to my class?”
“Monday,” he answered truthfully. Tim’s parents came back late on Sunday. That left only three more days before his domestic fantasies would come to an end.
“I’m trusting you, Ben,” she said. “You owe me an explanation. And an essay since you’ve missed the first test.”
“All right,” he grinned, relief washing over him. “I promise.”
Ms. Hughes watched him as he left, even though her classroom was full of students who were probably going wild in her absence. Once he could no longer be seen, she turned and walked slowly down the hallway, wondering what it was in Ben that she saw in herself.
__________
Chapter 8
“Honey, I’m home!” Ben crowed happily as he struggled with a grocery bag in each hand.
Today had been one of those Fridays where even the teachers had their hearts set on the weekend. None of the classes he bothered to show up for had been difficult or involved any homework. He and Allison once again disregarded the talent show and spent the period gossiping. He related to her for the umpteenth time how much he enjoyed taking care of Tim, while she filled him in on the action she and Ronnie had been sneaking in between classes.
After school, Ben took some of the money Tim’s parents had left and went grocery shopping, restocking much-needed supplies and picking up the ingredients for chili.
“Aren’t you going to help carrying in?” Ben called as he deposited the bags on the kitchen counter.
“I could probably manage something,” Tim said as he crutched his way into the room.
Tim had been much more active and restless the last few days. The painkillers had run out on Wednesday and he had no interest in a refill. He was wincing more often, but he seemed happy to pay this price for his sobriety.
“Seriously,” he said as he followed Ben out to the driveway. “Sling a few plastic bags on my wrists.”
“I’ve only got paper,” Ben chided as he took the last one and a twelve-pack of Coke from the trunk. “Your moral support is appreciated though.”
“Why’d you buy so much? My parents are coming back on Sunday.”
“I know, but tomorrow I’m cooking a meal fit for a king. Well, a very poor and underprivileged king maybe,” Ben corrected.
“You’re making me hungry. Why not cook it tonight?”
“My parents are on my back because I’ve barely been around the last few weeks and have missed every single dinner.” Ben waited while Tim opened the glass door for him. “I promised that I would actually be there tonight.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “So it’s frozen burritos for me?”
“That or a pot pie. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”
Ben stayed long enough to put the groceries away and make sure Tim had everything he needed. He meant to leave immediately afterwards, but they started talking, first about Tim’s homework that Ben had brought from school and then about some of the insane antics Tim had seen on the daytime talk shows. By the time he left to go home, Ben was already ten minutes late for dinner.
He ran most of the way home, cursing his mom for insisting he be there tonight. What difference did it make? Couldn’t they shove food down their gullets without him there? He didn’t see why meals were considered quality family time. Half the time you couldn’t talk anyway since your mouth was full.
Then again, he could barely wait to cook for Tim tomorrow. He supposed that preparing a meal was an expression of love and that he had been standing up his mother all week. Burdened by guilt, he burst through the door and dodged Wilford’s greeting in order to reach the dining room sooner. He was in luck. The table was just now being set. Whatever Mom had cooked had obviously taken longer than she had intended.
Ben took over setting the table as his sister and his father came into the room and took their places.
“How nice of his royal highness to grace us with an appearance,” his father joked.
“Can’t blame him for not showing up,” his sister Karen complained when their mom entered the room with a meatloaf.
Ben had no complaints. Meatloaf was one of his favorite meals. Lately he couldn’t seem to get enough red meat in his system. His mother’s meatloaf was made with strips of bacon on top and slathered with ketchup, which caused his mouth to water as she set it down. He was glad to be home for dinner tonight.