counseling. I just feel so … drained.
By the time we make it back to their house, Hannah is gone, her spot in the garage empty. “I’m going to work on some lesson plans. You can relax in the living room or do whatever. There’s food in the kitchen if you get hungry. Nothing’s off-limits, so don’t hesitate.” Thomas drops his keys in a bowl by the door.
I retrace my steps back into the living room and take the same seat on the couch as before, pulling out the laptop. A few seconds after booting it up, the notifications start going wild. It’s Mariam.
Mariam: Benji???? What’s up???
Mariam: Don’t go ignoring me kiddo, don’t tell me you got your phone taken away again???
Mariam: Helloooooooo?
Mariam: Is everything okay Benji?
Mariam: B E N J A M I N????
That’s Mariam for you.
Me: Hey
I figure out the time zones between North Carolina and California in my head; at three hours behind they’ll probably be getting out of bed by now. Mariam is a total night owl, which usually means they are up by ten at the earliest.
Mariam: How we doing today???
Me: Not good.
I consider lying to Mariam, no reason to make them worry. But they’d figure it out one way or the other. If not now, then the next time we FaceTime and they don’t recognize my new bedroom.
Mariam: Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?
Me: I came out to my mom and dad.
Mariam: Oh no…
Me: They kicked me out
Me: I’m with my sister now
Mariam: Fuck…
Mariam: The sister that your parents hate?
Me: The very one.
Mariam: Ben, I’m so sorry, I don’t even know what to say.
Mariam: So what’s the plan?
Me: I have no clue. I got enrolled in this other school, but other than that…
Me: Just trying to figure things out, get going again.
Mariam: Oh Ben… I feel so useless. I wish I knew what to say to you right now.
Me: It’s fine, there’s really nothing you can do.
Mariam: No, it’s not fine. I’m so… angry, sad.
Even trying to make a joke feels empty right now, but before I can stop myself, my fingers are typing it out automatically.
Me: I think they call that smad.
Mariam: Don’t make me laugh right now, please.
Mariam: Oh god, okay
Mariam: Listen I have to go get ready for a meeting. But I’ll message you the second I’m out. I love you Benji. So much. <3
Me: Love you too.
I close the laptop and tuck it away, ignoring the growl in my stomach. Thomas said to help myself to food, but I don’t think he realizes just how awkward that’ll be. I can wait.
If I have to.
I try to waste time flipping through the channels on the TV, but nothing’s catching my eye. After another hour, I check my messages again, but Mariam hasn’t responded, so I pull up their YouTube channel and pick a video at random, watching with the volume low since I don’t have my headphones. Doesn’t matter, they caption all their videos.
I feel myself relaxing. That weird weight on my chest feels a little lighter right now. Like I can actually breathe for the first time in hours. I found Mariam’s channel on a message board for trans and nonbinary teens after I’d started questioning my own identity and spent a whole night binging their videos and vlogs. Mariam talked about pretty much anything and everything. From immigrating to the United States from Bahrain, to coming out to their family, to dating as a nonbinary person.
Their videos are the reason I know what I identify as, and when I finally mustered the courage to come out to someone, it was Mariam. That was a super awkward night. In fact, I made a Twitter account just to talk to them. But they worked me through it, and we just kept talking until we realized we shared a mutual love for Steven Universe. Hell, they’re one of the few people who I let call me Benji.
I can hear the door swing open, and Hannah comes barreling through from the garage, plastic bags hanging from her fingers and wrists. “Ben? Thomas? Y’all back yet?”
“In here,” I say, but I don’t think she hears me.
From the sound of it, she’s moving down the hall right into the kitchen. I hear her grunt, and then something lands on the counter with a thud. What in the fresh hell? I slip past the still-swinging door, staring at everything Hannah’s laid out.
“What is all this?” I ask, staring at the bags sporting the