Page 81 of I Wish You All the Best

“Have you ever had a crush before, Ben?”

“Not really? I mean there are people on TV that I find attractive, but no one I’ve really been attracted to, if that makes any sense,” I say.

“Not even Chris Evans?” they ask.

“He’s too beautiful, that doesn’t count.”

“True. How do you feel around Nathan?”

It’s such a strange feeling, honestly, and I’ve never really felt that way around anyone before. “He makes me nervous, but not really in a bad way?” It sounds strange when I say it out loud, but that’s exactly how it feels.

“Like your stomach gets all weird and you feel like you’re going to be sick, but it never happens?”

“Gross, but accurate,” I say, because it is. It’s the truth.

“Yeah, you’re crushing, my friend. Hard-core too.”

“Oh.” Is it weird that I had to have my best friend confirm this for me? It feels weird. But at least I know for certain now. I have a crush on Nathan Allan.

“Has he said anything about his sexuality or anything?”

“Nope.”

“He doesn’t know you’re nonbinary, does he?”

“I’m not out to him. I don’t think I can be.”

“Oh, Benji.” They sound heartbroken.

“It’s fine, I’m getting used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to. Has he said anything that makes you think it’d be a bad thing to come out?” they ask.

“Not that I can really think of.”

“You just don’t want to?”

“I’m worried. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would out me or hate me. But what if he is?”

I could never imagine Nathan being that kind of person. But once I say those words, there is no taking them back. Now there’s no other school for me to transfer to, nowhere left for me to run. I’d be spending the next few months as a pariah.

“Oh, Ben … Maybe if you got him talking? Like, bring up something about sexuality or identity?”

“Because that’s totally natural and wouldn’t be suspicious in the least.”

“I wish I knew what to tell you. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I’ll get over him,” I say. What’s the point in pining so much? It won’t help me. Won’t help him. He deserves something less complicated, more grounded. “He’s probably going off to school anyway.” And I’ll be here.

“High school relationships hardly last after graduation anyway, if that helps.”

“It’s whatever,” I say as my phone starts to buzz on my nightstand. Speak of the devil and he shall text you. Maybe I just talked about him too much, and his Nathan-sense went off or something.

Nathan: Hey are you busy this weekend?

“That’s him,” I say to Mariam.

We haven’t really talked much since that night on the roof. Apparently, his parents sprung a trip to visit his grandmother in Maggie Valley at the last minute. Other than that, it’s been a handful of texts here and there, but never a conversation lasting more than a few minutes.