the next the sun was shining through the thin curtains of the bedroom. I’m guessing this is what being hit by an eighteen-wheeler feels like.
“Oh, Ben, this is my husband, Thomas.” Hannah nods to the guy at the table. It’s weird to think there’s this brother-in-law I have now, one that I’ve literally only ever seen pictures of.
Thomas raises his mug to me. “Nice to finally meet you. Hannah’s told me a lot of stories.”
No doubt I was a kid in all of them. Hannah offers me a seat at their super tall bistro-style table that sits in the far corner, the windows letting in way too much light for so early in the morning. Though a quick glance at the microwave tells me it’s nearly noon.
“Ben.” Hannah takes the seat next to Thomas, her hands folded. “Can you tell us what happened?”
I suppose there really isn’t any avoiding it, and I do owe them an explanation of some kind. The problem is I don’t even know where to begin with this. I mean I know where to start, but it’s like my mouth doesn’t want to work, like it’s stuffed with cotton or something, and I know whatever I say probably won’t make much sense.
“I’m going to go upstairs. Maybe you two should talk alone.” Thomas takes his mug and pushes his chair under the table, stretching his legs. I watch the kitchen door swing on its hinges after he leaves, back and forth until it steadily slows, and the door settles into its natural place.
“Please, Benji, talk to me.”
Okay. I can do this. I did it last night. Those three words and this whole thing could be over. But do I really even know my sister? Can she even help me? Maybe this was all some huge mistake.
But she might be my only shot at some kind of normalcy, at least for now.
“I’m … nonbinary,” I finally spit out. I even manage to make it two words instead of three.
Hannah leans back in her seat, sort of staring at me and not staring at me at the same time. This was a mistake. I’d found somewhere to go and now I’ve fucked it up all over again. Jesus, where could I go after this? Mom will have definitely called Grandma, probably Aunt Susan too. And I can’t exactly show up at any of my classmates’ houses. Besides, how would I even make it back home without paying for a taxi or something? I push back in my chair, preparing to go upstairs and get my things before I remember I don’t have any things with me.
At least that means a straight shot. Right out the door. There’s no way I’ll remember how to get home, so I’ll have to stop at a gas station or something, get directions. How am I even supposed to walk that far without shoes or socks?
“No, Ben, wait.” Hannah grabs my wrist, and I almost pull away. Her grip is too tight though. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” She looks at me. First at my face, then the rest of my body, as if I’ve somehow transformed right in front of her. “So, Mom and Dad kicked you out for that?”
I nod.
“Figures.”
“I thought they’d understand.” I really, really did. I mean, I’m their child. I thought that might account for something.
“I’m sorry, kiddo.” She nods to the chair. “Sit back down. Please.”
I eye her before I take my seat again, rubbing my sweaty palms on the knees of my jeans. I haven’t showered yet, which makes me feel that much more disgusting. Like I’m covered in a film I’ll never crawl out of.
“You’re eighteen, right?”
I nod.
“Have you graduated yet?” she asks.
I feel like the answer should be obvious, but I have to remind myself again. She’s been gone for ten years. “No.”
“Okay, this is a question I already know the answer to, but do you want to go back there?”
Even at the idea my stomach clenches, like there’s a fist slowly closing around it. “No. Please, no.”
“Okay, okay. It’s all right. We’ll need to talk about some things, okay? Like school, new clothes, everything else you’ll need. I’ve already talked with Thomas, and we don’t mind you living here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, kid.” She runs a hand through her red hair, a dye job, I’m guessing, since no one in our family has red hair. And the chances of her hair suddenly turning red naturally seem bleak. She hasn’t changed much since she