Page 31

Parker and William might be as socially awkward as me, but they know something is wrong when we meet to talk about the next steps for the code of the app.

I met them both in Boston, about eight months after I left Dirk. I was in a bad place, mentally, and my parents helped me find a... support group.

A place for people like me.

Or as close to “like me” as anyone can be. No two Autistic people are the same. The less severe the cases, the less overlap in characteristics, but when I first walked into CAMM, it felt like I was home.

That’s way too sentimental and emotional for my liking, so I’ve never told anyone but Dr. Becky about it, but it is the truth.

There were boys and girls ranging from three years to forty, and the level of severity was just as diverse .

With two advanced universities close by, that meant there were a lot of people in their twenties there as well.

Today, I’m sure that place saved my life after the breakup, not because I wanted to hurt myself physically, but because I was determined to isolate myself completely.

And that’s where I met the two men who are helping me bring ESoothe to relative life.

It’s also the place where I learned to be thankful for my brain.

I saw a six-year-old girl with very severe symptoms paint the most beautiful picture, and I found the beauty in our way of thinking.

She pointed at the family card after she finished her masterpiece, and of course there weren’t any discernible shapes in the drawing, but it was so colorful and. .. happy.

She let us know—and her parents later that day—that’s how she felt about her family.

And that is how I normally feel every time I walk into the Manhattan location of CAMM—which Parker, William, and I all decided to keep visiting after they agreed to move here with me.

“What’s wrong?” William asks only seconds after I sit in the chair they saved for me.

Not that the cafe is full of people—none of us would be able to handle that—but they made a point of it anyway by putting both their laptop bags on it.

His brown curly hair is as unkempt as always, his black-framed glasses are askew and have a little smudge on the top left corner, and he’s wearing his signature uniform—sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

I have no idea how he can stand the heat in that outfit, but I also know it’s none of my business so I’ve never asked .

“Nothing’s wrong,” I tell them, hoping they believe me so we can talk about what’s important.

“Your shoulders are low and your mouth is downturned,” Parker points out.

He’s as well put-together as always, wearing tan dress pants that complement the white linen button down well.

His blond hair is the same short, almost military-style cut as always, since he clips it every day, and his cheeks are clean-shaven.

Like me, they’ve memorized physical cues and how they relate to emotions, so in theory I could just explain I had a hard time sleeping last night—which I did—but I don’t have the energy, I realize.

“I talked to a possible investor last night and they haven’t gotten back to me. Also, after that talk, I think I ruined the only friendship I’ve managed to start to build in years.”

When they don’t say anything to that, I look up for a fraction of a second and see William frowning and Parker with his emotionless expression.

“We’re your friends,” William says after another moment, and if I’m not mistaken, he sounds angry.

“I’m your employer,” I counter.

“We were close before you hired us,” Parker points out, still not giving me any clues to how he’s feeling. “I think this hurts my feelings,” he says after a moment, and though it’s helpful, it’s also just another blow.

“I think so too,” William adds.

Jesus, I can’t stop fucking things up left and right, can I?

“I apologize. I wasn’t?—”

“We’ve never said it out loud,” William interrupts me, and it’s clear he’s in his head. “I have thought it a time or two, that we’re your friends, but we haven’t said it, so this is not all your fault.”

“I agree,” Parker says with a decisive nod. “You don’t have to apologize, but from now on you should know we are your friends.”

For a moment, I can’t say anything. They’re staring over my shoulder or at my forehead, which gives me a chance to stare all I want without feeling the need to look away.

I regain my ability to speak, but I still don’t know what to say... except... “If you don’t know what to say, then say something nice.” I hear Dad’s voice in my head.

What Mom said right after flits into my head automatically and makes me smile. “But only if they’re nice to you. If they’re not, then you tell them you think their existence is a flaw in the universe and move along . ”

That part doesn’t apply here, but it’s been more than helpful over the years—except when I saw Dirk again for the first time in years and froze, of course.

Right now, though, I can think of plenty of nice things to say to Parker and William.

“You two are the smartest men I know, and I’m grateful every day that you agreed to help with ESoothe. Being your friend is an honor,” I admit.

It’s overly sentimental, I know, but the moment calls for it, and since they’re as bad at emoting as me, they freeze as well.

I give them time, just like they gave me, and we sit in silence for a few minutes.

In those few minutes, I decide that if we’re going to be friends, we might need to organize some time for friendship rituals.

“That was very nice,” Parker says eventually.

William clears his throat a couple of times and nods. “It was.”

“It’s the truth,” I tell them simply. “And I think maybe we could start to take part in one or two rituals that friendships are associated with.”

That gets their attention. Parker even raises his eyebrows. William leans forward and rests his elbow on the table and puts his chin on his fist.

“Like what?” he asks eagerly.

“We could engage in sharing personal information and the consequential communal tradition of resourceful solution-sharing in hopes of positive results.” Parker barely moves his mouth as he speaks.

We all think quietly for a moment and then William draws the logical conclusion. “Do you mean give advice?”

“Yes,” Parker says with a single pointed nod.

“I hardly think we’re qualified, but we can give it a go. We should start with Liam, then.” William turns to me and sits back, looking serious once more. “You should explain what happened.”

“All right,” I murmur and shift on my seat, trying to get comfortable.

“As I said before, last night I talked to a possible investor and I haven’t heard back from her.

She seemed happy and agreeable when we parted ways.

The other thing is...” I hedge, not knowing how much detail to give them, but then I decide on full disclosure.

“I met Carter about a month ago. Since then we’ve seen each other quite a lot in different situations.

The one that triggered the most action was when we were having dinner after my sister left me alone with him where he works, and my ex-boyfriend saw us. ”

“That piece of shit from Boston?” William demands hotly.

“He’s not a good person at all,” Parker states.

“He’s not,” I agree. “In any case, that started this chain reaction where Carter became aggravated by Dirk...”

I take them through the story step by step, and they don’t interrupt again. Sadly they don’t talk at all when I finish.

“I kissed him since I believed the attraction I was feeling was reciprocated because of his behavior, but it turns out he’s just a really good actor. So now I feel like I’ll just never be able to be in the same room as him.”

They’re clearly thinking about the situation, so again, I give them time to do so.

“So he didn’t push you away,” William states, once more leaning forward.

“He didn’t,” I confirm. “He stepped back.”

“Can we see what he texted you?” Parker asks. “Maybe that will give us more insight.”

I have the texts memorized by now, but I take my phone out anyway and show them.

Carter

I’m sorry for the way I reacted tonight. My intention has never been to lead you on or embarrass you. I also realize I never expressed to you that I’m straight and I apologize for that as well.

It’s unfair that only queer people have to announce their sexuality when they meet new people, isn’t it?

In any case, I still want to be your friend, Liam. If you’ll have me that is.

I will take a few days to think about everything that happened tonight and how I feel more carefully, and I hope you do the same without shame or guilt because you shouldn’t feel any of those.

But I do want to keep having you in my life.

“He seems thoughtful,” William says, then hums.

“And like a good person,” Parker adds.

“He is ,” I stress. “I know he’s a good person.”

“Then we can deduce he’s being honest in these messages, right?” Parker asks.

“I think so,” William agrees.

“Then why do you feel like you can’t be in the same room as him?” Parker asks me. “From all the information you’ve provided, it doesn’t seem like he’d mock you.”

“And,” William shouts before I can answer, jumping in his seat a little. “He won’t make you feel bad or embarrass you.”

“I don’t think he will,” I tell them, trying to remain calm. “But I’m still embarrassed.”

“Why?” Parker doesn’t ask with an air of desperation but of honest curiosity.

“Because I mistook his behavior even after we specifically discussed how to act like we’re in love. I knew he was acting and I still believed somehow that he had real feelings for me.”

“But he’s clearly not judging you for it, and you told us you explained to him how you struggle with interpreting people’s actions, so he must understand, right?” William is practically on top of the table now.

“But it was such a stupid mistake,” I cry out, and feel the embarrassment creep back in.