by Mason Deaver
Maybe she can talk me through this.
Except we don’t have an appointment until next Thursday. I guess I could ask for an earlier time, but I feel like that might make Hannah suspicious. She’d definitely know something was wrong then. Besides, there’s so much to do at school now.
It’s definitely getting closer to … well, everything. So far, I’ve gotten forms about tutoring for final exams, and even a few people wanting me to tutor them in Calculus; a flyer for senior night; information on prom and graduation tickets. It’s almost hard to swallow. Just a few short weeks, and this will all be over.
“Hey, I’ve got something for you.” Nathan digs around in his backpack during homeroom.
“What is it?” I eye the monstrosity in Nathan’s hands. It’s wrapped mostly in masking tape, but I can see the cartoon faces of BB-8 and Oscar Isaac poking through in a few places.
“It’s a present,” he says slowly. “You open it.”
I take the bundle and stare at it.
“You know, you’re pretty bad at this whole opening thing.” He pulls his chair closer. “Go ahead, I want to see your face.”
I try my best to unwrap it carefully, but with the tape the wrapping paper just sort of rips off in clumps. And underneath it all is a brand-new sketchbook. Hardcover, spiral bound, no doodles on the front, or notes or extra pieces of paper poking through the edges.
“I …”
“Thought you might need a new one, your other one was looking a little messy.”
“Thank you.” I look up at him, and he’s smiling like a total goof.
“My pleasure. I meant to give it to you the night we saw the movie, but it totally slipped my mind.”
“It’s perfect.” The bell rings, and all our classmates rush out.
We look at each other for just a beat too long. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in Chem.”
It’s a decent distraction from Mom and Dad, at least for a little while. But there’s still this gnawing at me. Maybe I should meet with them, just to hear what they have to say. Realistically, I don’t think I could ever go back to their house, but just because they messed up once doesn’t mean we can’t fix what’s left between us.
Right?
Hannah won’t be too pleased, but maybe she’ll understand, and maybe this will be her shot too. It won’t be perfect, but maybe we’ll get to be a happy family one day.
“How was the rest of your break, Ben?” Dr. Taylor asks me when we’re both seated in her office. The door closed, that wall between me and Hannah up.
“Good.” I feel myself relax on the ugly yellow couch. Things are definitely getting easier with Dr. Taylor. I don’t mind the appointments nowadays, and I think they’re actually helping me. “I didn’t do much, I hung out with my friend Nathan a little,” I say. “How was yours?”
“Oh, well.” Dr. Taylor chuckles. “Unfortunately, I don’t get much of a break, but my daughter was excited. I took a few days off and we went down to South Carolina to see my parents.”
“That sounds nice,” I say. I think this is actually the first time I’ve heard Dr. Taylor mention family. There’s something sort of neat about it, imagining this whole life she has that I don’t even know about.
“Is there anything specific you wanted to start the session with, Ben?” she asks.
“Actually, yeah. I really wanted to talk about something that happened.”
“Okay.” She clicks her pen, always at the ready. “Go ahead.”
“I found a message from my mother, on Facebook. It’s a few months old at this point, but the other night I was talking with my friend. He knows I was kicked out, and it got me thinking about what they’d been doing since I left.”
Dr. Taylor hangs on to my every word. I mean, she always does that, but there’s something different in her expression now.
“My mom apologized, she wanted to see if I would meet with her and Dad so we could talk.” I pull out my phone and bring up the message, letting Dr. Taylor read over it quickly.
“I see, and how did it feel, seeing that?”
“It was … weird. I felt sort of numb.”
“Do you think she really means it?” Dr. Taylor gives my phone back. “The apology?”
“I don’t really know, I guess it’s hard to tell over the message. Besides, it’s so old, who knows if they feel the same way now.”
“Have you thought about telling Hannah?”
“Oh God, no, that wouldn’t be pretty,” I say a little more loudly than I probably should.
Dr. Taylor actually chuckles a bit, which makes me feel better. “So, do you want to meet with them?”
“That was what I wanted to ask you. If you thought it was a good idea.”
“Well.” She lets out a slow breath. “That can be a tricky question. On the one hand, you want to hear them out, don’t you?”
I nod.
“And on the other,” she continues, “was their behavior really something you could see forgiving?”
“I’m not sure.” I don’t want to think back to that night, but I can’t help it. So cold, so alone, scared out of my freaking mind. And all because of them. “I want to think they’ve changed, but I don’t want to open myself up like that again.”
“It’s a scary thought.” Dr. Taylor sighs. “Honestly, I’m not comfortable suggesting you go. You’ve made a lot of progress, Ben, and seeing them again could potentially undo months of work on your part.”
I sigh. I figured she’d say that. And it does make sense. Hell, the night they showed up at Hannah’s should be enough to convince me to just ignore the message. Delete my Facebook so they can’t contact me again.
But they know where Hannah lives. They know where I am. So if I just delete my Facebook, there’s still the chance they’ll just show up on her doorstep one day. And them showing up unannounced won’t be pretty.
“At the end of the day, it’s your call, Ben. I can’t stop you.”
“Hannah would go ballistic if she ever found out,” I say.
“And that’s her battle to fight, not yours. Maybe I’m wrong. Perhaps this could be a healing thing? Maybe it will bring all four of you together.”
“You think?”
“I don’t know for certain. I can’t promise you’ll meet with them and everything will have magically changed, and they’ll be as accepting and loving as you’d dream they’d be.”
“Right.” I feel my stomach lurch. “I think I want to try.”
Dr. Taylor nods her head slightly. “Can I offer some advice?”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?” I try to laugh.
“True.” Dr. Taylor shows off her bright smile. “If this is something you decide to do, maybe you should have a friend with you. This boy from school maybe?”
“I don’t know if I can do that. I’m not out to him yet.”
“Understandable, but perhaps just having him close by would inspire some confidence?”
“Maybe.” I can’t imagine asking Nathan to be a part of this. But the idea of him being there, even if he just stands outside while we talk or something, it does make me feel better. That would take a lot of explaining on my part though, and I don’t know if I can do that to him.
“Ben?” Dr. Taylor peers over the frames of her glasses.
“Sorry,” I say, rubbing my hands on my knees. “I think I’m going to do it. I want to talk to them, to hear their side of things.”
Dr. Taylor’s mouth is nearly a straight line. “Just be cautious, okay?”
“I will.”
The second I get home, I head up to my room, making sure the door’s closed. That probably seems a little too suspicious, but let Hannah and Thomas think what they want. I open Facebook on my phone and go right to my messages, rereading the one from Mom again. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read this thing over the last week. Parts of it are burned into my memory, other parts I forget are there until my eyes glaze over them again. I click on the box to type my reply, b
ut the words still won’t come. I’ve tried and tried to figure out how I’d reply, but I still don’t know what I should say.
A text from Mariam pulls me away from the app, their message flashing along the top of the screen.
Mariam: Hey random question…
Mariam: You live in NC right?
Me: Yeah…
Mariam: Awesome!
I almost ask them what’s going on, but they respond a few seconds later.
Mariam: What city?
Me: Raleigh
Mariam: Excellent!
Me: Why?
Mariam: Reasons…
Me: You plan on revealing those any time soon?
Mariam: I’m finalizing my tour schedule
I swear I can know Mariam for the rest of my life, and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to them saying “tour schedule.” Or the fact that they’re basically paid to give speeches and discuss being queer, and what it means to them. Then I realize what they’re trying to get at.
Me: Wait… does that mean what I think it does?
Mariam: That I’m going to Harry Potter World after I talk at the University of Florida? Hell yeah!
Me: Mariam…
Mariam: What! I get really excited about Harry Potter
Me: Are you coming to Raleigh?
Mariam: Maybeeeeeeee ;)
Mariam: There’s this support group there, they wanted me to come and speak.
The support group. The brochure is still stuffed away in my dresser, under piles of useless paper I’ve gotten from school.
Mariam: They partnered with one of the colleges there, NC State?
Me: Yeah
Mariam: A mouthful.
Mariam: They want me to do a little seminar for the group since the university talk is just for students.
Me: Oh cool
Mariam: My friend, you are not nearly as excited as you should be.
Mariam: We’re finally going to get to meet! Like in person, like I’m gonna be standing there and you’re gonna be standing there and it’s going to be magical!!!!
Me: No, it’s cool. I’m excited
Mariam: Really not coming across the chat, friendo
Me: It’s um… It’s weird.
Mariam: What up?
For a split second, I think about telling Mariam, but I really just feel like they’d try to talk me out of it.
Me: Nothing. What’s the name of the group you’re speaking for?
Mariam: Safe Space Project
Me: That’s the support group my therapist wanted me to go to.
Mariam: Oh, did you ever go?
Me: No
Dr. Taylor and Hannah have both stopped bringing it up, thankfully, but I find myself thinking about it every few days. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to start going in the summer, when I wouldn’t have to deal with anyone at school if they saw me at the meeting, so perhaps that would make things easier? Maybe by then I can work up the courage to actually come out.
Mariam: I understand, it can be scary
Mariam: Either way we’re hanging out, seminar or not
Me: You know it
Mariam: Oh, so guess what happened to me today with Shauna…
Everything sort of feels like it’s crowding around me all at once. Like I have to make a fucking list of everything that’s going on. Mrs. Liu keeps asking about the art show. It’s definitely happening, she has the support of her other students, who want to start meeting after school to plan everything.
But I still can’t give her an answer, and I don’t know what’s really stopping me. I just hate this pressure, and her constant reminders aren’t helping.
There’s also Mom and Dad.
I feel like every time Hannah looks at me, she knows. She doesn’t, but I feel so damn guilty. And I still don’t have a proper response to Mom’s message. I keep typing things out, but nothing seems right. What do you say to the people who raised you after they no longer want you?
Then there’s the actual meeting. The idea of being alone with them, it’s terrifying. I can’t ask Hannah to come with me for obvious reasons. And I don’t want to force Thomas to lie to her and go with me. It seems like too big a thing to ask Dr. Taylor.
So that just leaves Nathan.
And somehow, asking him seems scarier than anything else.
“Ben?” Meleika nudges me with her shoulder.
“Huh? Oh, sorry.”
“I asked if you were going to be part of that art show Mrs. Liu’s planning?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Then I think about it. “How do you even know about it?”
“She’s already advertising for it.” Meleika reaches into her backpack. “She wanted the student council to hang up flyers.”
“Why wouldn’t you enter it?” Nathan asks. “That’s like Ina Garten not entering a cooking contest.”
“Ina Garten?” I look at him. In fact, all three of us give him a strange look.
“My dad likes the Food Network, but that wasn’t the point here,” Nathan argues. “You should do it.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, if you decide to do it,” Sophie starts to say, “make sure we get tickets. I’ve got the perfect outfit.”
Meleika eyes her. “You have the perfect outfit for a student art show?”
“Totally!” Sophie says. “Now sit still, I’ve got to finish these nails.”
“And with that, I’m going to get some water.” Nathan taps his knuckles against the table. “Anyone want anything?”
“I’m good,” I say. Sophie and Meleika are too busy focusing on Meleika’s nails. Sophie’s got this new black polish that almost seems blue when you look at it just the right way. It’s so stunning I’m legit considering asking her to do mine. Then it hits me. “Actually, yeah. I’ll go with you.”
Nathan looks a little surprised, but it lasts maybe a split second. “All righty, then.”
I follow him to the vending machine out in the hallway in front of the cafeteria. I guess the line is way too long to wait in just to buy a bottle of water.
“So …” I say, staring at the huge logo.
“So …” Nathan eyes the big blue vending machine.
“So.” I tuck my hands into my pockets and shuffle my feet around. “I wanted to ask you a favor. A big favor.”
“Okay.” The corners of his mouth perk up a little. “No chance I could ask you to do this in riddle form?”
“Yeah, no.” I sigh. “It’s a bit of a weird request.”
“It’s not that hard to make questions riddles,” Nathan says.
“Not what I meant.” I shake my head. “I just need your help.”
“Hide a body, no, wait. You need to get revenge on someone? I’ve got the perfect way to ruin someone’s gas tank.”
“No, it’s not that. Just let me talk, please.” Though the gas tank trick might come in handy later. “My mom sent me a message online, she and my dad really want to talk to me.”
Nathan’s smile vanishes in an instant. “About how they kicked you out?” He pulls a dollar out of his wallet and feeds it into the vending machine.
“That might come up, yeah.” I get in closer. “And I’d just feel better about having someone there.”
“And your sister isn’t an option?”
I shake my head. “I don’t need you to sit in on it or anything, but just like, knowing you’re there might help me.”
“Do I have that effect?” Nathan’s still not smiling, and I’m getting sort of worried.
I really need there to be a cap on how many times cheeks can blush per day. “Kind of. It’d really help to have a friend there.”
“And you really think this is a good idea?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “But I feel like I have to hear them out, listen to what they have to say.”
“Ben—”
“Just … please, just this one thing. Please?”
Nathan lets out a long sigh. “When are you meeting?”
“Friday night
.” I pull out my phone and stare at the message I sent. Eventually I’d found the right words, which is to say that after all my worrying, I simply told them a time and place we could meet. I’d thought for days about adding something else, about asking for some kind of an explanation, or maybe going off on Mom.
But none of that seemed right. I wanted to hear them first, face-to-face.
“Robin’s.” I tell him. “That Italian place downtown.”
“Oh, I’ve been there.” Nathan takes his bottle of water out of the little dispenser at the bottom. “Don’t get the eggplant Parmesan. It’s terrible.”
“Noted,” I say. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
“They’ll be there around seven, is that okay?”
Nathan smiles. “It’s a date!”
Yeah, I’m fucked.
I should most definitely not have agreed to do this, but it’s too late now. Short of just grabbing Nathan and running back out into the parking lot.
But Mom and Dad know where Hannah lives, probably.
I catch Nathan’s eye from across the restaurant. He looks pretty comfortable for a guy who’s basically here alone. He catches me looking and pulls out his phone, then my phone buzzes.
Nathan: I still think I should’ve worn the hat and sunglasses.
I roll my eyes.
Me: They don’t know what you look like.
Nathan: Still!
Me: This isn’t a sting operation or anything.
“Well, hello.”
I jump in my seat and nearly let my phone clatter to the floor before I grab it at the last second. It’s my parents, standing there, smiles on their faces as they look down at me.
“Hi,” I say, unsure if I should stand up or not.
I stay seated, and the two of them follow after a few beats of awkward silence. My phone vibrates again, but I ignore it. Probably just Nathan.
“You’ve let your hair get too long” is the first thing Dad says.
“I like it this way,” I say, touching the ends. It’s not quite to my shoulders yet, but Sophie says I’m like a walking stalk of broccoli.
Meleika said cauliflower, because of how pale I am.