I Wish You All the Best

by Mason Deaver

“Well,” Mom starts. “As long as you’re keeping your grades up. When does your report card come in?” “Next week.” It’ll be all As, except in English, which will probably earn me a “We’re not angry, just disappointed.”

“I have a doctor’s appointment. I’m leaving after this period.” “Oh, urologist?” he asks with probably the straightest face I’ve ever seen. “What? No,” I sputter. “And why was that your first guess? Never mind.”

I’ve been mentally preparing myself to come out all over again, but I’ve been doing that for a while now. That was one of the things I realized early. If you’re queer, your life has the potential to become one long coming-out moment. If I ever want to be called the right pronouns, I’ll have to correct people and put myself out there first and who knows what could happen.

“Okay. You like to read, what’s your favorite book?” Nathan leans back and lets out a low, long groan. “How could you make me choose?”

Mom and Dad were strictly no mammalian or reptilian pets. They did let me have a fish when I was ten though. A little goldfish that I named Goldie. Because I was definitely creative with my name choices.

“I knew I should’ve just copied Mr. Darcy’s speech.”