Page 41 of I Wish You All the Best

Me: I don’t really know…

Me: He can’t come over here, he doesn’t even know I live with Hannah.

Mariam: And you don’t want to go over to his house?

Me: It makes me nervous.

Mariam: Understandable.

Mariam: Well, what if you went out? Got some lunch or coffee or something? Go to a public place.

Me: I don’t know, this is the first time I’ve done something like this…

Mariam: Your parents didn’t let you go out with friends?

Me: They would… but no one ever really wanted to hang out around me.

I was always seen as that “weird” kid. The one who was too quiet and never wanted to hang out with kids on the playground. That reputation sort of followed me through middle school and right up until I left Wayne High.

Mariam: that sucks, I know the feeling all too well

Me: Why am I freaking out so much?

Mariam: You’ve been through a lot, Benji, I mean, the last month has been rough for you, it’s okay to be scared or worried.

Me: But he’s just a boy. And I don’t know…

Me: He seems too nice to hate what I am

Mariam: Trust me hun, boys are scary. I lived with two of them and dated three. And you’ve seen Twitter, right? A cesspool.

Okay, that makes me laugh. This is why I always go to Mariam. They can usually make me feel better, no matter how stressed I am about something.

Mariam: But this Nathan dude seems like a good guy. And not one of those self-proclaimed good guys or whatever who tips his hat with a m’lady.

Me: Maybe…

Mariam: Do you actually want to hang out with him?

Me: Yeah. He’s nice.

Mariam: I think you owe it to yourself. Making friends is hard but having someone your own age can help. Even if he doesn’t know what you’re going through exactly, you both know that feeling. I’ve never met a single teen that has it all together.

Mariam: And as much as I love my title as your bestie there’s only so much I can do when we’re a country apart from each other.

Me: How’d you get so smart, Mariam?

Mariam: I didn’t graduate from Berkeley with a 4.0 for nothing.

Me: Thanks.

I roll over and grab my phone off my nightstand. Nathan stole it at lunch yesterday, so now there’s a close-up selfie of the two of us set as my background. In fact, I’m pretty sure my camera roll is now an even 60 percent reference photos, 40 percent Nathan selfies.

We didn’t confirm anything about the tutoring yet, and I’m not even sure that he remembers what we agreed to. Oh God, what if he doesn’t remember, and I just text him right out of the blue and he has no idea what I’m talking about?

Or what if he doesn’t want me to tutor him anymore? I’m not sure which might be worse.

Me: Still up for tomorrow?