Page 72 of I Wish You All the Best

I sort of wish she’d see what I’m saying, but she’s never really been the best at that. Maybe I could hide it under my clothes, so Hannah won’t notice. But there’s really no way to sneak it past her, especially if she’s footing the bill for all of this.

“What do you think?” She pulls out this bright white dress with red polka dots. I’d never be able to pull off something like that, but I sort of like the idea of being able to wear it. Maybe how it would feel brushing past my legs.

“Looks good,” I say.

“You look like you’re thinking,” she says.

“Huh?”

“Like your brain’s busy.” She chuckles. “Thomas says I have a look like that too. Maybe it runs in the family.”

“Maybe.”

She nudges me a little. “So, what’re you thinking?”

“Mrs. Liu’s doing an art show at school,” I say, the excuse coming easy. It’s not a total deflection; I have been thinking a lot about the show. I just don’t think Hannah would really understand how I’m feeling about everything else.

“Oh, did she ask you to submit one of your paintings?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to do it?”

I shrug. “Not sure yet.”

Hannah scoffs. “Come on, your stuff is amazing. Why wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know. Guess I’m just nervous.” I don’t know why. It’s just a student show. But there’s still this bundle of nerves I feel when I think about showing my stuff off to that many people.

I’m just overthinking it; I know I am. Hell, it is just a student show; I doubt there will be a lot of people there. But still.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Benji. You should submit something.” Hannah eyes the dress again before putting it back on the rack, and all I want to do is reach out and grab it. She moves closer to the stacked piles of jeans next. “So, are you excited to be out of school? Must be nice to be able to relax for a few days.”

“Yeah.”

She grabs a pair of black jeans at the bottom of the pile, checks the size, and then shows them to me for approval. I nod, and she throws them in my arms.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You like Dr. Taylor, right?” The question takes me off guard.

“She’s fine.” Seems like an odd question since I’ve been going to Dr. Taylor for almost three months now. “Why?”

“Just wondering. I was talking with a friend, the one that referred me. She said that it can sometimes be hard to find a psychiatrist you can stick with, especially on the first try. Dr. Taylor was their fourth option.”

“I didn’t know you could switch like that.”

Hannah eyes me. “Do you want to?”

“No, no. She’s great.” Besides, I don’t think I can handle a new doctor. Start over, come out all over again, talk about Mom and Dad, and Hannah, and things I’ve already let out into the world. Even if that world only consists of two people.

“What about the medication?” she asks.

I shrug. “I think it’s working; I’m not really sure though.”

“Have you given any more thought to that support group?”

I freeze. “How do you know about that?”