and then shows them to me for approval. I nod, and she throws them in my arms.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You like Dr. Taylor, right?” The question takes me off guard.
“She’s fine.” Seems like an odd question since I’ve been going to Dr. Taylor for almost three months now. “Why?”
“Just wondering. I was talking with a friend, the one that referred me. She said that it can sometimes be hard to find a psychiatrist you can stick with, especially on the first try. Dr. Taylor was their fourth option.”
“I didn’t know you could switch like that.”
Hannah eyes me. “Do you want to?”
“No, no. She’s great.” Besides, I don’t think I can handle a new doctor. Start over, come out all over again, talk about Mom and Dad, and Hannah, and things I’ve already let out into the world. Even if that world only consists of two people.
“What about the medication?” she asks.
I shrug. “I think it’s working; I’m not really sure though.”
“Have you given any more thought to that support group?”
I freeze. “How do you know about that?”
“There was the pamphlet in your dresser. I promise I wasn’t snooping, just putting away some clothes and … well …”
“Oh. Not really.” Please tell me she wasn’t going through my things. That she was just putting away socks or shirts that she’d washed, and just opened the drawer by mistake.
“Can I ask a question?” She throws down the other pair of jeans she was eyeing.
“I thought that’s what you were doing?” I try to laugh, but I can feel my face heating up.
“Oh, ha-ha.” She cackles sarcastically. “But seriously, like, why don’t you want to go? Don’t you think it’d help?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you looked up their website or anything?”
“No.” I look around, we’re pretty much alone in this section of the store. “I just don’t want to come out to a bunch of strangers.” That’s part of it, but it’s also a local group, and I don’t think I could handle walking in there and seeing someone from school.
“What about trying it just once? The pamphlet said you don’t have to be out or anything. You don’t have to talk about why you’re there.”
“I just really don’t want to go.” Even if I don’t do the whole coming-out thing again, I’ll have a room full of people staring at me, wondering why I’m there. And do I really have the right to sit in on their private meetings if I’m not going to share anything?
“I just think it might help.”
“Well, I don’t think it will. Can we please drop it?”
“Okay,” she says defensively, and my heart sinks. She sounds so much like Dad right now. “Do you think you’ll ever come out to anyone else?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re only out to who? Me, Thomas, Dr. Taylor. Mom and Dad. Do you think you’ll ever come out to anyone else?”
“Why does that matter?” I don’t want to get angry, but I also don’t appreciate how she’s asking all this. Why is this so important to her?
“It was just a question,” she argues.
“Well, that’s up to me to decide, okay?”
“Ben.” She groans. “Listen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it … That wasn’t cool of me.”
I sigh. Great. “It’s fine.” I hang my head down and pretend to look at some sweaters.
“No, it’s not.” She grabs the clothes in my arms. “You want to get out of here?”
Like no tomorrow. “Only if you’re ready.”
“Yeah, sure. Mind if we still stop by the grocery store?”
“That’s fine.” I follow Hannah to the checkout line.
“So, when do I get to meet this Nathan kid?”
“What?” Dear God, let these conversations end, please.
“He picked you up last night, right?”
“We’re just friends.”
“Well, I didn’t suggest otherwise.” Hannah gives me a sly smile. Dammit. “But if you say so.”
“I do say so,” I protest, even though part of me wants to ask her what I can do about Nathan. Either how to get rid of whatever these feelings are, or how I can actually get him to maybe, possibly, like me? Because the thought of this is terrifying.
Nope.
I need to distract myself, because I cannot do this right now. I stare at the junk that decorates the shelves along the checkout line. Water bottles, ChapStick, “As Seen on TV” stuff, and other things no one really needs or wants until they realize they don’t have it.
My eyes settle on the rack of nail polish, all in these sweet-looking pastel colors. I can’t help but think about Sophie and Meleika’s nails, always flawless.