I Wish You All the Best(23)

“Ben,” Thomas cuts in. “Do you want to talk about anything?”

“No, just not today.” I try to make the words sound like a firm statement, but I doubt it actually comes out that way. “Please?”

Hannah and Thomas pass a look between them. “Okay,” Thomas says. “Do you need us to do anything?”

Even if there is something they can do, I doubt I’d be able to tell them. I’ve never been so scared like that. It was like I shut down. I couldn’t even speak; it was like my brain just refused to form the words.

“No, there’s nothing.”





Every night that weekend, I dream about my parents. I wake up covered in sweat, the sheets tangled around my legs. I only remember Mom’s face, the frigidity of that night. Saturday night I manage to fall back asleep after a while. Sunday is a different story though. No matter how hard I try, my mind refuses to rest. So after an hour of wrestling with my sheets, I know it’s no use. I’ll be a zombie tomorrow morning at school.

In some combination of my insomnia and curiosity, I go downstairs to the living room and pull out the laptop, googling the causes of insomnia, but that doesn’t help. One, because I’m not sure that’s what this is, and sometimes self-diagnosis can be dangerous. And two, the results yield anything from asthma to sinus issues to arthritis. None of which I’ve ever had to deal with. But there are two causes that stick out to me, right near the middle of the page.

Anxiety and depression are two of the key factors contributing to insomnia. Patients will usually experience— I stop, almost looking up anxiety, but I don’t want to open that can of worms. I close the tab and grab my headphones, killing time by listening to one of my playlists and taking BuzzFeed quizzes. Eventually I go to Mariam’s channel and watch their latest video.

A few hours later, the sun starts to peek up from behind the curtains, bathing the room in a warm glow. Another night lost. I head back upstairs and take a quick shower. Hannah and Thomas are still asleep, or one of them is. I can hear someone moving around in their bedroom.

“Morning, Ben.” Thomas marches down the steps about an hour later, buttoning the sleeves of his shirt.

“Morning.”

He opens the refrigerator and grabs a bottle of water. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” I swallow the last bit of cereal and drink the leftover milk, which is the best part, honestly.

“Oh, that sucks. I’ve had those nights.” Thomas leans against the counter. “So …”

Uh-oh. I’m already bracing for the worst. “So …” I repeat.

“Nathan’s been asking about you.”

I eye Thomas suspiciously. “Asked what about me?”

“He, uh …” Thomas laughs, less like he finds this funny, and more like he doesn’t want to say the next part of his sentence. “He was wondering what he did to offend you.”

My heart drops. “Oh.” It’s all I can really think to say.

“I told him I didn’t think you were mad at him or anything. Just that you were going through some stuff.”

I open my mouth to ask a question, but Thomas is already one step ahead of me. “I didn’t tell him anything,” he assures me. “Kept it vague and mysterious, just how you like it.”

I let out a sigh of relief and walk over to the sink to rinse out the bowl. “Thank you.”

“He’s a good kid, just a little nosy.”

I glare at Thomas. “A little?”

That makes him genuinely laugh. “Okay, he’s a lot nosy, but he’s got a big heart. He likes to make people feel welcome.”

“Yeah.” I open the dishwasher, stacking the bowl so it fits perfectly. I don’t know what to make of Nathan yet, honestly. He seems cool enough, and he’s been nothing but nice to me since I got to Raleigh, almost to a fault. Like he has something inside him that’s telling him he can’t leave me alone for more than five seconds. “I should be nicer to him, shouldn’t I?”

“Maybe,” Thomas begins to say. “You should at least give him a chance. It can’t be easy, I mean, your life is … Well, a lot has happened over the last few weeks, Ben. You need someone you can talk to.”

“I thought that’s why I was seeing Dr. Taylor.”

“Okay, well, it helps to talk to someone your own age who you aren’t paying to dissect everything you say.”

“I guess.” I sigh. I can only rely on Mariam for so much. Between the time difference and them traveling so much to speak with nonbinary and queer groups across the country, having a friend might not be so bad.

Thomas pats my shoulder and gives me one of those awkward smiles. “You want to go ahead and leave? I can get a head start on my grading.”

“Okay.”



There’s not really anywhere for me to go so early in the morning. Mrs. Liu won’t be in for another hour, and it feels awkward to be in the art room before she is.

I like Thomas and all, but I’m not prepared to spend an extra hour in his classroom with nothing between us but awkward conversation and even more awkward silence. So I head back to the quad. At least now I can be alone, and the place doesn’t reek of cigarette smoke and pot yet.