Chances Aren't (24 page)

"But, I think—"

"I've never, ever had a real girlfriend all these freaking years and I think I'm on the verge of putting that together finally… and, and you've come all this way to ruin that for me." Ben shakes his head. "Thanks, thanks a lot for that."

I put my hand to my forehead and sigh. "Just do what you want. I give up." I point directly at young Ben. "Ten years from now you're going to wake up one morning in a cold sweat and think yeah, he tried to warn me, but I was too much of an idiot to listen."

"Yeah, okay." His shoulders bounce up and down as he silently chuckles while rolling his eyes at me.

I mumble something under my breath then turn and head off to the bathroom.

After drinking one more beer, I fall asleep easily, curled up uncomfortably on the bean bag chair. I spend the next two days hiding in the room, sulking, drinking beer and eating way too much junk food as young Ben goes about living his life or my life or whatever the heck you want to call it. We don't talk much. He's all smiles when he returns from his Friday night date with Emily and I pretended to be already asleep when he walks through the door.

On Sunday morning, he wakes early and while he's in the shower, I'm lying on the floor using the edge of the beanbag as a pillow, staring up at the ceiling and replaying in my head all the events since I returned to this place and this time. Part of me is wishing I could go with him, a bigger part than I'm willing to admit. God, this was a fun time in my life. Probably the most fun I ever had and will ever have. I guess I can't blame him for riding it out and seeing where it takes him.

When he returns to the room with a towel wrapped around his waist, he takes a short breath and makes a sour face. "I'm tolerating you being here, but dude, you badly need to take a shower."

"I know. I know."

"I'll sneak out and be gone pretty much all day, so why don't you pull yourself together, get cleaned up and find something to do outside of this room. I mean, don’t do anything crazy and have the cops be looking for me later, but do something."

"Okay." I hoist myself up on the beanbag, pulling my knees to my chest and take a deep breath.

He looks at me holding onto the edge of his towel. "Could you please turn the other way?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

I turn over on my stomach and listen while he gets dressed. When he's done, he says, "I'm leaving now."

"Okay. Have fun, I guess."

"Look, I know you're only trying to help, but I think I know what I'm doing here."

"Yeah, I know you think you are."

After giving me a tired look, he turns away.

"Hey," I call out.

"What is it?" Turning back to me, he folds his arms.

"Do you think, um, you could maybe bring me back a plate?" Shrugging, I give him a pathetic look.

"You're unbelievable." With that, he turns and walks out the door.

Groggily, I climb up onto the bed and pull my knees up in the fetal position, closing my eyes. I let out a series of wimpy moans. Suddenly my eyes shoot open and I get to my feet. "Fuck it."

I strip down, wrap Ben's damp towel around my waist and head off to the shower without bothering to put on my tennis shoes. "Yeah, really, really, fuck it."

Once I'm dressed, I head outside turning left and head toward campus. I've been back here four days now and have yet to set foot on university property. There's not a single cloud in the sky and it's not overly hot for being July in Maryland. It's an amazing day and I'm wasting it.

I see only a handful of people walking around since it's the middle of summer break, but it still feels good to be back and be young and full of energy. Maybe I'm looking at this all wrong. Maybe I could actually stay here. There's a chance William isn't going to drag me back to the future. If he does, he'll be doing so while I'm kicking and screaming.

I sit down on a bench and think about my options. I've always wanted to live in California. I could spend a few weeks here working and save some money. Then I could get on a bus, go cross country and start a new life in the sunny mild temperatures of the west coast. Who's to say there can't be two Ben Hunters hanging around? He can stay on the east coast and fill himself with pasta sauce and meatballs until he explodes while I go play beach volleyball with hot young California girls. It could work. I mean, why couldn't it work? Three thousand miles apart, no one would ever spot the two of us together. I could get a job and earn enough money to start investing. If I put into practice the albeit simple, but rock-solid guaranteed investment plan I laid out for Greg, I'll have more money than I know what to do with in about five years.

I rise to my feet wearing a wide smile and head back toward the frat house. Fifty yards away I spot a drop dead gorgeous girl walking toward me. When she's only a few feet from me, our eyes meet and I say, "You're beautiful."

She returns a smile and gives me a curious look. "Thanks."

Spinning around, I walk backwards and add, "Have a good day."

"You too."

After making some sort of awkwardly lame hand gesture and nodding my head, I spin back around and continue home wearing a smile that won't quit.

As I near the edge of campus I hear the sound of a basketball being dribbled and head toward it. When I reach the court, I discover a group of guys playing a full court game. After watching for a few minutes they ask me to play since the teams are odd. I'm not the best player on the planet, but I can hold my own. I'm a little better defensively than shooting and have been known to steal a pass or two, the only problem is that my lay-ups aren't so good. We play for over an hour and I'm surprised how my young legs carry me up and down the court with ease. I make a few shots and steals and play some decent defense.

After the games, I'm still full of energy so I head to the gym on campus to lift weights. I can bench press two hundred sixty pounds and looking in the mirror at myself, I could really get used to having this young body once again. There's no pain in my back when I move the certain way, no aching in my legs when I overexert myself and I had long forgotten what it feels like to have a body that isn't failing.

Returning to the frat house, I call Swensen's from the hall phone and ask if they're looking for anyone to work that night and luckily they are. When I enter the room, I hear noise over on Alan's side and walk over. I find him searching through the bottom drawer of his dresser.

"Hey." I sit down on his bed.

"What's up?" He gives me a curious look. "Um, I can't believe I'm even asking this, but I guess I have no choice."

"What?"

"Are you the real Ben or the, you know, the one from the future?"

"Does it matter?"

"Kinda." He sneers.

I chuckle. "Future."

"Oh, okay."

"I know this has been weird for you."

"Yeah, a little."

"Imagine how the other Ben feels."

We share a laugh, then he asks, "Do we stay in touch, you and I, you know, in the future?"

"Not really."

"Well, that sucks."

"Yeah." I shrug. "You move to Boston."

"Huh?"

"And something like fifteen years from now I'm up there on a business trip and I call you about a month in advance and leave you a message that we should get together."

"What happened?"

"You, sorta blow me off. You call and leave me a message on my work phone while I'm up there telling me you can't meet for some reason..." I shrug. "...I forget."

"Sorry, dude."

"I mean I thought it was kind of a dick move, but people go their separate ways. We do speak on the phone once after that."

"Do you know anything about me? Am I married or…"

"You're divorced and working at this law firm— a partner, I think."

"Divorced huh?"

"Yeah." I give him a sympathetic look.

"What happened between me and my wife, do you know?"

"No, sorry we didn't talk about it."

"What's her name? Wait, no don't tell me." He frowns and pauses a moment. "But I'm a partner, that's cool."

"And you…" I shake my head thinking better of it.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Is it bad?" Rising to his feet, he looks at me concerned. "Tell me."

"Well, from the picture I saw of you online, you sorta got… heavy."

"Geez, I thought you were going to— big deal, so I'm fat. My father is, so I guess it's in my genes."

Something in his bottom drawer catches my eye and I smile. "What's… Is that…"

Using his foot, he slams the drawer closed. "It's nothing."

"Is that a leotard?"

He sighs and closes his eyes. "Well, yeah."

"Why the hell do you have a leotard?"

"I used to be a gymnast."

"No way." I scoff.

"Back in high school."

I chuckle. "How do I not know this about you?"

"I just don't talk about it."

Pointing to the drawer, I say, "Let me see it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, pull it out."

He sighs then removes it from the drawer and holds it up. It's bright blue with a red and white diagonal stripe across the chest. I cover my mouth to keep from bursting out laughing.

"What?" He looks insulted.

"Nothing." I cringe. "It just looks a little... confining."

"It's tight, but it's supposed to be."

"Oh." I rub my chin. "Tell me you don’t still wear that thing?"

"Every couple weeks I work out at the campus gym… alone. I know the gymnastics coach and he lets me do it."

"And you actually wear that?"

"Yeah." He shrugs.

"Who are you, Mitch Gaylord? Next you'll be telling me you wear a shiny leather jacket over your shirtless chest just like he did in his movie, what's it called… American, um… American Anthem. Did you see that?"

"I saw it," he grumbles. "And no, I don't have a leather jacket."

I let out one more chuckle before pulling myself together. "I'm just messing with you. So, you do the rings and horse and all that crap?"

"Yep."

"Wow. I just had no idea. Do me a favor."

"What?"

"Put it on. I've got to see you in that."

"No way."

"Oh come on. Now, that would make this whole trip back in time worthwhile— seeing you in that."

"Screw you." He sneers.

I grimace with pretend sadness. "It's just one disappointment after another."

"Sorry I can't help you." He shakes his head and laughs.

"It's okay. In the scheme of things, seeing you busting out of that, is pretty low on my list."

We share a laugh. "Well, I've got to go to work." Turning, I head toward the hall.

"Ben?"

"Yeah."

"I promise I'll try to stay in touch."

"You should." Giving him a sincere look, I move to within a foot of him. "I really think we should hug right now."

"Get the hell away from me." He pushes me back.

"You're no fun."

After a shower, I head over, eat a free meal and wait tables for six hours earning a little more than eighty seven dollars. It feels like a lot of money. I chuckle with the realization that it's not enough to pay for a week's groceries and gas in two thousand thirteen, but it's all I need right now.

When I return to the room, I find young Ben sound asleep and quietly strip out of my waffle smelling work clothes then pull on a pair of shorts. I open the refrigerator to grab a beer, but the delicious aroma of the amazing Italian sauce enters my nostrils and my eyelids flutter slowly closed. I find a foil-covered plate sitting on the shelf and retrieve it along with the beer.

Plopping down to sit on the floor in the hall between Ben's and Alan's side of the room, I tear into the plate of cold rigatoni, meatballs and pieces of beef and struggle to contain my groans of pleasure. Sure, rigatoni isn't my first choice of pasta, but halfway through, I realize I've never been happier than I am right at that moment. Taking a break from shoveling in the food, I go to work on my forgotten beer and pause another few seconds to let my stomach catch up to my mouth. I get back to it and when I'm done scraping up the last teaspoon of sauce from the plate, I finish the beer, take a quick trip to the bathroom down the hall and collapse on my blanket on the floor, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

"Hey, yo, dude."

I open my eyes to find young Ben standing over me. "What is it?"

"Can you do me a favor?"

"What is it?" After stretching my arms behind my head, I lift up grimacing, letting out a groan before plopping back down on the bean bag chair.

"Could you go to class for me and take notes? There's no test or anything today."