Page 131 of I Wish You All the Best

“Yeah.”

“Great, so I’m not the only one that’s totally nervous, right?”

“Not at all.” I press the button for the elevator.

“Good.” Nathan sighs as the doors slide open. “Are you going to tell Sophie and Meleika?”

I shrug. “Don’t really know. Do you think they’d be okay with it?”

“I think they’d be fine with your being a ten-foot-tall lizard person in a skin suit.”

“Let’s not test that theory.” I feel the familiar brush of his hand against mine.

“Thank you,” he says. “For trusting me with this.”

Our palms press together, fingers dancing. “I was scared out of my mind to be honest.”

“I hope I didn’t make you feel like it wasn’t safe or anything.”

“It wasn’t really you, it was … the after. Like what was going to happen when I finally did it. I really didn’t want to lose you either.”

“I’m very proud of you, Ben.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“I’m getting kind of excited.” Nathan stares at the numbers above the door, watching them rise slowly. “For the meeting.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” I offer.

I have to push away the idea that we’re in the wrong building. I doubled-checked all the addresses and the group’s page says they meet in the community center. This has to be the right building. I breathe a sigh of relief when the elevator door opens because right there on the list of offices and their room numbers is “Project Safe Space—Room 414.”

The directory just outside the elevator says that’s to the left, so we follow the arrows, counting down the rooms until I see the one labeled 414. For some reason I’m expecting a big rainbow banner that says “All Are Welcome Here!” or flags hanging all around the door or something, but it matches the rest of the rooms. In fact, the only “decoration,” if it can even be called that, is the poster that lists the meetings, naming them “Project Safe Space,” and giving the dates for the meetings underneath.

“Ready?” Nathan pulls on the door handle.

“Yeah.”

Mariam’s already being called to the front of the room when we step in. They catch us, and a smile lights up their face before they refocus on the papers in front of them.

There are only a few stares from other people when we decide to burst in, taking a spot at the back. Mariam doesn’t miss a beat though and just keeps going. The actual talk itself lasts about an hour, but then there’s another half hour of people asking Mariam questions, and it seems like with every one of them, Mariam falls down this rabbit hole of explanation. They never told me what the subject of the talk would be, but Mariam delves deep into the need for more queer safe spaces. Specifically ones geared toward queer minors, places that don’t focus on dancing or drinking, like most clubs do.

And it’s not like I didn’t know it before, but sitting here, listening to them talk, it hits me just how brilliant my best friend actually is.

“Okay, everyone. I’d love to keep going,” they say. “But unfortunately, that’s all the questions for now.”

The applause is immediate. People even give them a standing ovation, which coming from a smaller crowd is sort of odd. But maybe Mariam deserves that sort of reaction. Nathan and I sort of hang near the back, but since we are new faces, we still catch some attention.

“Hi!” This guy walks up to us.

He’s cute, or I guess they’re cute. I shouldn’t be assuming anyone’s pronouns. The chances of me screwing up are probably higher here. I shouldn’t do that anyway, honestly; I know the pain all too well. “Are you here for the group?” they ask.

“Kinda.” I clear my throat. “My name is Ben.”

“I’m Nathan.” He gives a wave.

“Micah.” They don’t reach to shake my hand or anything, which I appreciate. “What are your pronouns?” they ask.

“Oh, um.” I don’t really know why that catches me off guard. “They and them, please.”