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The feeling had been easy to ignore since Monday. Ben had convinced himself just not to think about it, to not think about how much of a fool he’d make of himself. To not think about how it would be infinitely better if he could back out beforehand—to fake sick, to say his parents planned something suddenly. But somehow, it landed with him in the front seat of his car, hands drumming along the wheel, headed towards his demise: the roller skating rink Skeeter had invited him and Ricky to. A simple hangout for them, her, and Emily.
The sound of their shared playlist, curated just for the occasion, helped him tune out the entire conversation. Ricky sat beside him, feet on the dashboard, having called shotgun as soon as he could. Ben was hyperaware of the few worried glances he had shot him over the course of time, but he ignored it. Ricky currently had his back turned in the passenger seat, seemingly getting the hint Ben wouldn’t talk, rambling to Skeeter and Emily in the back about something or other. Ben had hardly spoken a word the entire time, keeping his hands clenched around the wheel in agitation and letting the music surround him instead.
While he was excited to be able to go out for once, there was one minor issue eating away at him: he had no fucking clue how to skate.
Every recent time Donna had asked him to go to the ice skating rink, Ben turned it down. He had only gone a couple times with her as a child, and just couldn’t get the hang of it. He had spent his entire time cowering by the wall and insisting that he wanted to go home. And since then, he had lost the little skating experience he had barely obtained.
It was the entire reason he had been dreading the trip. Every message he got from their group chat titled friends of dorothy was from Emily about how excited she was, how happy she was that they were all able to go out together for once. And he sat there, eyes locked on the road like a hawk to try and distract himself from what would be his impending doom. Maybe I’ll just crash the car and die and then I won’t have to go was a thought he had for a split second, but he decided that it wouldn’t be worth it.
There wouldn’t be any way to outrun the consequences at that point, Ben knew it, deep in his soul. It was just a matter of avoiding them until the time was right. So, he was just going to die of embarrassment instead. Curl up in a ball in the middle of the rink and start flailing so loud they would ban him from the establishment, and maybe get run over by a few other skaters. Surely, that would work. Bashing his head into the dashboard also looked pretty tempting, but he didn’t really want everyone to stare at him now.
All he could think about was how Ricky would without a doubt laugh at him. He must have had some kind of experience on wheels, since he showed off that damned ‘thrifted’ skateboard everywhere he went. Skeeter seemed like she was able to rollerskate before she could walk properly, and surely she had taught Emily a thing or two—he was the only one going to look like an absolute idiot out there, he was sure—
A sudden snap of fingers in front of his face evaporated his train of thought. He suddenly became conscious of how insane he must’ve looked the entire time, when he noticed it felt like he hadn’t blinked in the past four hours. Ben’s eyes flickered off track to Ricky waving a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Ben?” He said, a smirk glued onto his face, yet with a hint of uneasiness behind it. Ben’s grip tightened on the wheel, the rush of being taken out of mindset and the sudden realization that there were three other people in the car overwhelming him. “I’m driving, shitbird.”
“I’m just trying to make sure you’re still with us.” Ricky laughed after he spoke—the softer kind that came out when he was cracking a joke yet being concerned at the same time. Ben smiled weakly, surprised that it wasn’t entirely forced, but still had a lurking nervousness underneath it.
Ricky was a whole other issue to him. The lip ring that gleamed when he got too close, the engraved smirk on his face, the sound of his quiet giggling even after someone told him to shut up.
Skeeter had never said the words double date, yet they kept rotating in Ben’s mind. The way she said you two when inviting them, like a pair. A couple.
It took everything in Ben’s head and heart to remind himself that they weren’t dating—even though he wished with all his heart that it could’ve been a double date. Or maybe he was just a creepy weirdo with delusions of a guy he’d turn down too many times to go back to. Ben probably would’ve turned down the idea of rollerskating if it were anyone else entirely, but Ricky coming along changed the entire ordeal for him, as awkward as it was to admit.
He had been telling himself it wasn’t a crush for a while. But all the little things Ricky did for him made him think he was really in love. He just didn’t know how to go about it anymore.
God, no wonder Lola broke up with me because she knew the rumors of me being gay were true, he pondered, trying to keep a straight face so as to not show how many emotions were running through his head. Ben knew that he had other things to think about, but he was stuck on the two most disturbingly relevant things—the fact that Ricky was still right next to him, and that they were approaching the rink right about then.
The bright, eye-catching light emitting from the sign of the roller rink came into view. It wasn’t a huge building, somewhat quant, but the parking lot looked crowded. It wasn't surprising for the weekend, but it was less than ideal for Ben.
Maybe we won’t find a parking spot and we’ll have to go home.
But his thoughts of desperately wanting to leave made him consider something else—the fact Ricky was so excited to be there. The way his face lit up when Skeeter invited them, when he talked about showing off to everyone around. His happy rambling in the seat next to Ben, though he had difficulty processing most of it.
I’ll tough it out. It’ll be fine. He repeated meaningless affirmations to himself in his head as he stepped out of the car, shoes firmly hitting the pavement. He took intentionally slow steps towards the building, watching as Ricky skipped his way towards it with levels of enthusiasm Ben could barely dream of reaching. Emily walked alongside him, and Ben felt Skeeter following behind his slow pace, but tried not to pay attention to it.
As he was about to step through the gates of hell, he felt a tug on the sleeve of his flannel. Ben flinched at the touch, trying to keep a straight face and ignoring the churning in his stomach as he turned around to see Skeeter with her fingers clenched on his sleeve.
He didn’t even have time to speak before she took it upon herself to confront him. Skeeter’s expression was stern, suspicious. “Ben, are you feeling okay?” She asked, voice heavy with worry. It was always like she had a sixth sense when it came to her being able to tell when people were anxious.
Fuck. He stared at her, making a poor attempt at looking like he had no idea what she could be concerned about. “What?”
Skeeter hesitated before speaking, trying to find the words to describe what she noticed. “You seemed really… off. The entire car ride.” Ben felt a bead of sweat run down his palm, unaware of how anxious he came off as. “You weren’t really talking to anyone, even when I brought up Garfield.”
How did I miss that? “I- I’m okay”, he said, too quick for comfort, “just feeling anxious about… uh…. things. It’s not important.” And has absolutely nothing to do with where we are right now.
Skeeter raised an eyebrow at him. “You can always talk to any of us, y’know.” An awkward pause hung in the air, her gaze narrowing. “Is it because of Ricky?”
“What? No—“ He stammered, feeling the blood rush to his face with slight embarrassment. “What would Ricky have to do with any of this?”
Skeeter looked like she was catching onto him, if she hadn’t already figured him out. “Just curious.”
“It’s not about Ricky. I’m fine, I promise.” He forced a smile that he knew didn’t fit his face quite right. Skeeter let go of his sleeve, leaving a crease in the fabric, but he could tell that she wasn’t at all convinced he was okay.
“C’mon, don’t wanna keep them waiting.” Ben turned on his heel, not looking back at Skeeter while he hurried inside at an unnatural speed for him. He kept his hands shoved in his pockets, trying to come off as cool as possible when the chatter inside hit him.
He stepped onto a brightly patterned carpet dotted with different swirls, stars, and squiggles. There were people dotted all over the area, eating with their friends off in a table area by the corner, the rink full with people sliding in and out. Workers rushed around behind the front desk with collections of boxes for different sizes, holding the skates that would be his very enemy. It wasn’t exactly crowded, but every person Ben noticed was another person who would watch him fail miserably. The thought that no one would actually care that much didn’t cross his muddled mind.
He swore under his breath. Skeeter came through the door behind him. Ricky and Emily stood by the front desk, idly looking around for the two until Ricky perked up at the sight of Ben and Skeeter walking in—Ben could’ve sworn he felt his heart skip.
Ricky darted over to them, confused eyes flicking between Ben and Skeeter. “What took you guys so long? I thought you guys had clipped into a different dimension or something.”
“No, no, I was just—making sure I didn’t leave my phone in the car.” He patted one of his pockets for show as Ricky stared, clearly not buying it. He probably knew something was up, but Ben refused to let the thought catch up to him. “Well, if you’re all ready, let’s go.” Emily said, taking the lead. Ben reluctantly follows the group, wanting nothing more than to just stay behind.
Every step he took was another towards imminent embarrassment. He kept his hands shoved in his pockets, desperately trying to ignore how badly he was trembling. Ricky walked beside him, his hand lingering by his side, fingernails painted black and red with the usual chips in them.
Ricky was always a part of the problem, whether there was too much of him or too little. Whether it was the first few months when they first met and Ben did everything he could to avoid him, or now when he could hardly breathe when he got lost in Ricky’s eyes. He couldn’t blame Skeeter for assuming that Ricky was a contributor to his anxiety with how much of a fool he made himself around him.
The four approached the front counter together, Emily checking that they all knew their sizes and making them swear on their souls that they would pay her back for everything she paid for. Ben nodded along anxiously, trying not to let the box containing the skates slip once it was shoved in his hands.
Rainbow patterns along the carpet made him dizzy as he kept his eyes on the ground, following the group towards a bench for them to put on their skates. His thoughts raced, slipping his shoes off in unison with everyone else.
They have no idea how much of an idiot I am. They have no idea that I don’t know what I’m doing. They think I’m going to be a natural at this.
His skates were a distracting bright blue—almost the same shade as Ricky’s eyes, except the skates were more of a dark turquoise. His eyes were the color of the sky, the ones he had sketched an insane amount of times to the point where he could’ve drawn him with a blindfold on—fuck. Stop thinking about it. He didn’t notice how heavily he was breathing until he let out a distinctive sigh once both of his skates were actually on.
Skeeter zipped off towards the rink, yelling something to Emily that was inaudible to Ben over the sound of his eardrums thudding from the internal panic. He stood up, skates ready, pushing off of the bench to keep himself from wobbling. Everything was setting in at once, that he was really doing this. That he really didn’t tell anyone beforehand that he couldn’t do it. He hobbled along awkwardly towards the rink, trying his best to keep his breath steady. He didn’t know why Ricky and Emily were staying behind, but it was good that they were preoccupied—giving him time to stall and figure out if he did know what he was doing. Disco lights shone brightly above him, covering the flooring in spots of distracting purple and green. Another person exited the rink swiftly as he stepped on.
The wooden floors might as well have been made of ice with how Ben almost slipped face-first before he barely made it in.
His hand gripped the wall with force he didn’t know he had, keeping himself stable.
I’m beyond screwed, he thought, eyes wide with pure fear. He put both hands behind him to hold onto the wall, shimmying along out of view from anyone coming in and seeing how embarrassed he could possibly look. His vision blurred, everyone moving past him in a weird array of colors supposedly people. Nobody was looking at him. He kept his grip firm, breathing steadying. As he stared down at the floor, covered in past marks, he noticed his feet weren’t shaking that much.
This is easy…
Another person came up close to him—a pair of pale yellow rollerskates bumping up to him. A familiar Boston accent spoke over the music. “Brookie, what’s the matter?”
Ben froze, meeting Ricky’s eyes, a lopsided frown lining his face.
“I’m just being… out of the way,” he said. A poor, obvious excuse. Ricky was practically the worst person to see him fail at being a person right now. He looked Ben up and down—at him clinging onto the rink’s bounds, not an ounce of faith in his soul.
“I can teach you to skate, if you want. You never mentioned not knowing how.” Ricky offered calmly.
A heartbeat skipped in his chest. All the others in the rink fell away from him, leaving his senses—the music, even the bright lights. Ricky’s eyes were terribly distracting in the moment. That bright, captivating blue.
“You’ll be fine, Brookie,” Ricky promised, holding out his hand to Ben. His mouth hung upon slightly, starstruck.
He felt a small spark of confidence, a smile forming, just from the way Ricky was looking at him. That he believed he could do it. Ben took his hand, trying to conceal the emotional mess his mind was at the moment. His palm was warm against Ben’s fingers as he pulled him off the wall—a little too forcefully.
Ben’s heart rate surged in a split second as he toppled forward. He held back screaming when his skates skidded across the floor—but just close enough that Ricky could catch him, arms wrapping around his waist in an instant.
Ben could hardly breathe from the proximity with how close their faces were from Ricky looking down at him. He was entirely sure Ricky had done it on purpose, his teasing smirk only confirming it.
“Jeez, Brookie, I know I’m easy to fall for, but there’s no need to be literally head over heels.” He said, not holding back a short laugh. Ben felt the blood rush to his face immediately, head spinning, his heart pounding so loud in his eardrums, he wouldn’t be surprised if Ricky could hear it.
“God, you’re so stupid sometimes.” Ben sighed, expression hardening but unable to resist grinning. He could feel Ricky’s breath on his face as he laughed. “Only sometimes? Wow, guess I have to put more effort in.”
In the corner of his eye, Ben caught Skeeter’s distinct gaze. She looked like she was supposed to be helping Emily with her skates—coming to a realization that he wasn’t the only one without much skating experience—but she seemed preoccupied by staring.
He stared right back, and it was like that singular glance caused time to stop.
It had become fairly obvious that Ben was falling for Ricky—to everyone but him, or so it felt.
Skeeter had first noticed when Ben and Lola were first dating. She was aware they had broken up now, and could imagine why considering the rumors spread through Dean’s school shipping account, but she had seen right through it.
Lola and Ricky looked impossibly alike. The first time Skeeter had spoken to Lola—outside of hearing Ricky complain about how she was stealing his man—was her asking if she knew a guy named Richard Collins who might be her secret evil gayer twin. Safe to say they got off on the wrong foot.
Then it was the fact that Ben would get grumpy at the idea of Ricky hanging out with anyone else. It wasn’t like she and Ben had anything against each other—since Skeeter wasn’t any competition—but there was always a subtle glare when she would assumingly ‘take away’ from their time together.
Now, it was just crystal clear as she watched Ben anxiously quivering on the rink floor. Not from the imbalance of the skates, she guessed, but from the way Ricky was holding him by his sides. She quietly observed them from the far corner, staring right in Ben’s direction, but not breaking eye contact. She squinted at his bright red face, trying to send a message, I know what you are.
“What are you looking at?” Emily questioned, following her gaze as Skeeter snapped her eyes back to her. They were up against the wall of the rink as well, out of the way of others, but on the opposite side of the room. Skeeter had the most skill out of the four, which she was well aware of. She thought that teaching Emily how to skate would be a nicer opportunity for them to spend some time alone, but it seemed like Ben needed his own help.
“Just look at them.” Skeeter said.
“Is this about your plan?” Emily whispered, eyebrows knitting together.
Skeeter had been plotting out the whole thing, and Emily was the first person she told. She needed to really see if Ricky’s tales of Ben staring at him for more than three seconds or how he always seemed on edge talking about his sexuality were true. Emily didn’t seem to believe her, but said that spending time together would be worth it considering how little they got.
“Yeah. I swear, Ben’s literally shaking over there.” She put her hand on Emily’s back, pointing her right in their direction. Emily frowned, peering towards the two boys like they were wild animals being observed.
“I don’t know why you’re worrying so much about this,” she said bluntly, eyebrows knitting together.
Skeeter sighed. “It’s just… Ricky’s insane about him. They’re insane about each other. I just wish they’d shut up and confess.” She glared at them, wishing she could just read both of their minds.
“It took you a bit to shut up and confess, didn’t it?” Emily nudged her lightly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Heat quickly rose to Skeeter’s face at the comment. “It wasn’t as obvious…” She said, smiling as Emily giggled at her.
“They’ll get around to it eventually.” She shrugged, taking Skeeter’s hand, looking slightly bored. Yet Skeeter wasn’t intent on giving up on her study that easily. She continued staring between people swerving in her vision and them.
Her eyes widened as Ben’s green eyes locked onto her from far away.
Shit. She quickly diverted her vision, a bead of sweat running down her palm. “Yeah, yeah— it’ll happen at some point. I just hope Ricky doesn’t lose his patience by then.”
“Brookie, what are you looking at?” Ricky said, looking him dead in the eye. His vision snapped back, remembering the fact Ricky was right in front of him.
“Nothing,” Ben lied. Ricky blinked before giving him a small, comforting smile.
“Hey, I know you’re nervous, but it’s fine. Just go slowly for a little bit. It’s just like ice skating.” Ricky’s hands shifted from his waist—to Ben’s slight disappointment—up to hold onto his hands, rubbing a slow circle with his thumb.
“…I don’t ice skate much either,” Ben admitted.
Ricky looked at him questioningly. “You’ve got a rink right near school. Why not?”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Because I suck at it.”
“No, you don’t,” Ricky insisted, “look at you right now!”
Ben had hardly noticed that his feet were moving before he looked down. Ricky had been slowly dragging him by the hands across the rink floor, and his legs had finally stabilized.
“Trust me, by the time we get out of here, it’ll be like you’ve always known how to skate.” Ricky grinned at him, eyes flickering back and forth between Ben and his side to be careful not to bump into anyone. His hands were warm against Ben’s and he couldn’t imagine how foolish he’d been to think he shouldn’t have come.
He paid little attention to the music, too enamored in the moment, but he recognized the faint 80s tune, I Think We’re Alone Now.
Ricky had a little too much faith in Ben’s learning abilities, but he had only fallen over about four times before Emily came over and they collectively decided it was time for a break.
The place had only gotten more crowded by the time they came, having to squeeze between people and watching where they put their feet. They gathered in the small food court, finding a booth suit for the four of them after ordering their own drinks.
Ricky slid into the seat beside him, slinging an arm across his shoulder with a Thug Shake in the other hand. Ben almost choked on his coke. Ricky had a habit of putting his arm on his shoulder, for reasons he couldn’t identify, but the touch had almost always been welcome for him. It made him feel secure, comforted. Even then, with his mind racing and barely being able to process the moment, he had a warm and fuzzy feeling with Ricky being so close to him.
Emily and Skeeter sat across from them, a slight pink tainting Skeeter’s cheeks as Ben could see Emily bump shoulders with her.
“Hey, Ben, for future reference, we’re not gonna stone you to death for not knowing how to roller skate.” Emily giggled, popping open two cans of Dr. Pepper for her and Skeeter.
“Or maybe we will,” Skeeter said ominously, leaning forward with a sinister grin. Her eye seemed to catch Ben’s, perhaps unintentionally, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that it felt like she had been watching him the entire time. Studying him.
Maybe she just thinks I suck at rollerskating.
“Ignore her.” Emily lightly shoved Skeeter with her hand, getting a bright laugh out of her. Ben sipped his drink in an attempt to look collected, thinking about how natural they looked together.
He wondered about how Skeeter had figured it out herself. It wasn’t a surprise when it came out that they were dating—from Heather, who somehow thought spreading the rumor would ruin their lives, when in reality it did nothing—but he had never asked them about it. He wasn’t particularly close with Skeeter or Emily in middle school, but hanging out with them now, he knew that they could be considered friends.
He was oddly jealous, of the fact it looked like they had it all figured out.
He glanced over at Ricky, whose shoe made slight contact with his underneath the table. Ben put his foot over his, and before he knew it there was a competitive game of footsie between them that nobody knew about but them.
It really felt like a double date. To anyone wandering by, people probably would've assumed that they were a couple. Kids at school always called them lovebirds and some prick from the yearbook club had even started calling them bricky as some kind of duo name, which Ben greatly disapproved of. The rumors had died down a bit after he started dating Lola, but now that it was over, and somehow him and Ricky were more touchy than ever, they'd be bound to start back up again. Ben couldn't place an opinion on the matter. Part of him wished that he could hold his hands in the hallways, kiss him after Ricky would walk him to class. It was frankly kind of embarrassing for a guy like him.
he wondered what could've been if he said yes to that date all those months ago.
Hours after everyone had gone home, Ben laid on his bed, the room comfortably silent. The rest of the day had been fine, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how badly he was overreacting earlier.
His phone on his bedside table read 11 AM. He had attempted to go to sleep numerous times, but it was impossible. He couldn’t get the thought of Ricky’s picture-perfect smirk out of his head.
The day was like something that had come out of a dream for him—it was almost like he could still feel Ricky’s hands on his waist. He stared up at the ceiling, lost in his mind. A light wind swept through the broken window, flowing through the night.
It was his first time really feeling like he was in love. He had some sort of romantic epiphany one afternoon with him, and it had been taking up his mind the entire time afterwards. He didn’t know if he threw away his shot long ago, after all those times Ricky had asked him out and he insisted that it was a no.
A short ding rang through the air. Ben glanced over at his phone, subconsciously hoping it was Ricky.
A text from Skeeter popped up on his home screen—his wallpaper a picture of Ricky from the time they went to Klara Burgers together—the notification taunting him. He checked it without care, partially wondering why she would’ve been messaging him so late.
skeeter : why were you being so ominous today
Ben flinched, immediately almost dropping his phone.
He had been too obvious with how flustered he was. It wasn’t like Skeeter was going to judge him—or he assumed so—but he wasn’t ready. He hadn’t told a soul, not even Donna, who was constantly curious about how much time he and Ricky spent together.
Play it cool, he thought, sweat forming on his palms as he messaged back.
ben : What do you mean
skeeter : you kept. like. glaring at me from across the table
ben : that’s just my face
skeeter : it wasn’t a mean glare it was a suspicious glare
ben : I don’t suspect you of anything
skeeter : well what if i suspect you of something
ben : why am I suspicious
skeeter : dude i SAW you when slipped into ricky’s arms are we NOT gonna talk about THAT
“Fuck.”
The word came out louder than it meant to, echoing in the empty space of Ben’s room over the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. He doubted that he could get out of talking about it now, because if he went to bed, Skeeter would know that he was avoiding talking about it. Panic filled him internally, breath growing shakier.
ben : it was just an accident it doesn’t matter i thought you said i wouldn’t get stoned to death
skeeter : i also saw you blush and i swear you were about to start giggling and kicking your feet when you two sat next to each other
skeeter : just tell me
skeeter : i wont stone you to death for being gay this isn’t the fucking 1950s go shoot your shot bro
ben : What is with you and stoning people to death
skeeter : i said i WONT stone you to death. what is with you and having a giant big massive crush on ricky and avoiding the question
ben : None of your business. It’s too late for this
There was an awkward period with a response from her. Assuming she had given up, hopefully not running behind his back and telling Ricky every little detail, he set his phone back down. The second he felt relieved, it buzzed again, and he was forced to pick it back up.
skeeter : i’m not like accusing you of anything scandalous i just think we should talk about this. and if you want me to set you guys up i can do that (i think)
Ben scowled at his phone, choosing not to respond this time out of pure anger from how Skeeter was practically ragebaiting him, instead throwing it down on his bed with an unsatisfying thunk. Another buzz came from his phone, but he ignored it, cursing under his breath, ignoring the fact he felt his face burning madly.
Every bone in his body told him he had to do something about his little crush before it was too late—but it was easy for fear to get the best of him. He grumbled to himself, pulling his bedsheets over his head and pressing his face down into his pillows.
The faint scent of cigarettes lingered on his pillow from the amount of times Ricky had laid there himself.