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, but 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: