Page 70 of I Wish You All the Best

“So what are your plans for today?” she eventually asks.

“Nothing.” I shrug. I guess I have a whole week to look forward to. A week without the art room, my portrait of Nathan left alone. A week without Sophie or Meleika. “What about you?”

“Thomas is finally catching up on sleep. But I need to go to the grocery store. Want to come with? It’s right next to a shopping center. Maybe we can find you some new clothes while we’re out.”

“We could do that,” I say. Maybe this is the chance we’ve both been waiting for. We’re older, and without Mom and Dad around, it might be easier. Besides, I’d rather not have to raid her closet the next time I want to go out. Not that I’m too eager for another party, but you never know when you might need semi-decent-looking clothes.

“You want breakfast? I’m starving,” she says after a solid minute of neither of us contributing to the conversation.

“Not hungry.”

“Okay.” She stands up and walks back inside. I wait until I hear the click of the door before I pull out my phone. I’ve gone nearly a week without talking to Mariam. Not totally ignoring, but it’s been mostly one-sided conversations. I just really haven’t felt like talking much at the moment.

Me: Morning!

I text them on the off chance they’re up. It only takes a few seconds for them to reply. They must be working on something to be awake as early as they are.

Mariam: heyo! how we doing?

Me: Fine, you’re up early…

Mariam: meetings, planning, editing, articles to write.

Mariam: I’m runnin’ on fumes, Benji

Me: Yikes…

Mariam: What about you? Anything new???

Me: Not really, school’s kicking my ass, dealing with some more stuff.

Not a great excuse, but hopefully they will understand my radio silence.

Mariam: Noice! I’m always up for some existential crises.

Me: Always a fun time.

Mariam: So what’s on the agenda for us today?

Me: Hannah wants to go out, get some groceries, look at some clothes.

Mariam: Nice, nice!

I rub my face while I consider the pros and cons of telling Mariam about last night, my hand scratching the stubbly hair that’s just poking up on my jaw. I yank my hand away and try to forget about it, but I know I won’t feel better until I actually shave it off, which I probably won’t be able to do until tonight.

A few of the message boards I’ve read said things like facial hair growth contributes to body or gender dysmorphia. So that was a fun thing to learn. I don’t exactly remember when I discovered the whole thing made me uncomfortable. It was just one of those gradual things, like my hair, or my nose.

Mariam: gasp! I almost forgot! You haven’t met the new girl!

Me: New girl?

Mariam sends me a selfie of them with a girl at a coffee shop or restaurant or somewhere. They’re both really cute, Mariam as always, their dark purple lipstick matching their hijab. This girl is kissing Mariam’s cheek, her hair dyed a similar purple, eye shadow dark. She looks vaguely witchy, and I love it.

Me: She’s so cute!!!

Mariam: omg she’s so amazing. Her name is Shauna. like we’ve been out every day this week. We went to the movies last night and she held my hand the entire time and it was PERFECT! Like I think I died and I’m in heaven right now honestly.

Me: Sounds nice