Dad. When I first realized I’m nonbinary, it was like this secret. One that I only I knew. Part of me wanted to keep it that way. But as the months passed, I felt it all bubbling over. Every comment at home or at school. Every time I was called Mr. or sir.
It just kept rising and rising until I just knew I had to tell someone. I had to get it out of me, like it was some sort of poison. And Mom and Dad were who I chose.
That’s what this feels like. Every time Nathan uses the wrong pronouns for me, it feels like a stab to the gut. Even if Mariam and Hannah and Thomas know to use the right ones. His words are the ones I care about the most right now.
I need him to know. For my sake.
For his.
“I want to tell him.” I say those five little words and they feel like they could end the world. “That I’m nonbinary.”
“Yeah?” I can sense the confusion in their voice. But this is the first step. The first logical one anyway. A declaration of love can come later.
“I’m scared, Mariam.” It’s like it’s all catching up with me, and it feels like a dream. I’m going to try and come out to Nathan Allan. I want to come out to Nathan Allan.
“I was too.” They put their hand over mine. “It’ll be worth it.”
“How do you know?”
They shrug. “What answer makes you feel better?”
“That you have a hunch? That it’ll all go amazingly, and he’ll love me for who and what I am. That he won’t hate me.”
Mariam laughs. “I have a hunch, galbi.”
“Galbi?” I look at them. “What’s that?”
“It means ‘my heart.’”
I lean in closer to them, shoulder to shoulder. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Benji.”
We walk around for another hour, thankfully avoiding the topic of my parents, or Nathan. It’s weird to finally be here with Mariam. And we’ve only known each other for about a year and a half now, but when you owe someone your life, can you really call them anything but your best friend?
If it wasn’t for them, I’m not exactly sure where I’d be. Probably still at home, wasting away under that roof all by myself, not really understanding who I am. Or if I did understand who I am, I probably wouldn’t have figured it out until much later.
“You should come and see me speak tonight,” Mariam says while we’re walking back to their hotel. Whatever organization they work for really shelled out. It’s not the nicest place in the city, but even just a night here can’t be cheap.
“Maybe.” It’s like the word rolls around in my head for a bit, and the second it’s out there, I hate it. Why am I not more excited about Mariam’s speech?
“Come on, smaller crowd, and if I just tell them you’re my friend, then no pressure, right?”
“Right.” I mean, I’ve been worried about the group this entire time, running across someone from school or just in general having to come out to an entire group of people. But this is for Mariam. For my best friend. For the person who probably saved my life.
I can’t believe I was thinking about not going.
God, I’m an asshole sometimes.
“I’ll be there.” I make the promise to them, and to myself. “Just have to do the most difficult thing I’ve ever done first.”
“It’s going to go amazingly, I promise.” Mariam reassures one. “Want to grab dinner when I’m done? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, a new project.”
“New project?” I ask.
Mariam just gives me a mysterious smile. “Yeah, I think you’ll like it.”
“Okay, I’ll be there.”
“Starts at six thirty. I’ll text you the address.”
I check my phone. There’s still plenty of time to get ready. Maybe I should ask Nathan. Maybe it’d answer any question he has. God, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m going to come out to Nathan Allan. It might not even be the actual coming out that scares me. It’s what he’s going to think of me after.
I try to waste time walking around the park, but that just makes me more nervous, so I sit in the car, slowly typing out a text one letter at a time, until it makes some sort of sense.
Me: Hey, can you meet me near the Wake County Community Center? I need to talk to you.
I close my eyes and hit send.
There, out of my hands. I have