The thing about autism is, it doesn’t just go away because you want to do something. There were some games that I’d love to play that were just too visually noisy for me to deal with. There were concerts and conventions and fares I’d have loved to go to, but my brain didn’t deal well with crowds.

And I wanted to stay at Jethro’s place the next morning. Or… I wanted to want to stay. But I was crashing.

I hadn’t slept well at all last night, and I hated it. I mean, it wasn’t surprising. His bed and his pillows and his blankets were all different from mine, Linda kept making noises during the night, and sharing a bed with another person was nothing like sharing it with Pippi.

But I liked him. In movies that was always a special kind of magic that fixed everything. If you were meant to be with someone, then you always wanted to be with them and you were always happier when you were together. You didn’t want to go home because they didn’t have the cereal you liked.

I just hoped he didn’t take it personally when I texted my dad at 9:30 to come and pick me up.

Both of my parents showed up to get me, and then they spent half an hour talking to Jethro’s parents while I lurked awkwardly waiting to leave. 

“You okay?” Jethro whispered to me as I sat on their sofa, rubbing at the short, spiky part of my hair.

“Tired.” That was my standard excuse. It required the least explanation and was usually not untrue, even if there was much more to it than that.

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“Mm.”

“Not used to sharing a bed?”

I shrugged. “Not used to lots of things. And I’m very bad at getting used to new things.”

“That’s okay.” Jethro leant over and rested his head on my shoulder. “It’s okay if we have to do things differently, or not at all, or lots of times before you’re comfortable with them.”

Fuck, he was so perfect. I took hold of his hand just because I wanted to touch some part of him. Even his fingers were more elegantly shaped than mine. “So… what’s actually going on here, with us?”

His thumb curved around to brush over the back of my hand. “Hm?”

“I mean, like, full disclosure, I didn’t realise the thing yesterday was a date until you were actually holding my hand and I only figured out you weren’t straight a couple of weeks before that.”

He lifted his head to look at me. “Oh, shit, sorry, I didn’t realise I wasn’t clear on the date thing.” His expression pinched slightly. “Did think I was pretty clear on the not straight thing, though, but if you have any tips on looking more queer than I already do I’m open to them.”

“You can’t tell someone’s sexuality from what they look like.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jethro said, though he didn’t sound particularly convinced. Maybe because he’d clearly been able to work out my whole thing just fine without being told.

“But yeah, I mean, like… are we dating now, or…”

Jethro gave me a confused but fond smile. “Well, I’m not sure I really hold the authority to just decide that kind of thing on my own. Do you want us to be dating?”

This felt like a standoff. Like, I didn’t really want to just say yes before I knew what he wanted in case it wasn’t that. Because that’d be embarrassing. But… he wouldn’t do that, would he? If he wasn’t down with that, he wouldn’t set me up to humiliate myself, right?

“Yeah,” I said after a few awkward seconds of silence.

“So… will you be my boyfriend?”

I couldn’t help the smile that overtook my face. “Yeah. I will.”

#

A few days later, in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon game of Snakes and Ladders, Jethro sent me a picture of himself dressed as Peter Pan followed by, I got the part!

And damn, he really was wearing tights. The costume included a tunic that went over the top and kept things decent, but damn. I bet his ass looked amazing.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile,” Tayla commented. “It’s your turn.”

“Sorry.” I rolled the dice and moved my piece. “My boyfriend got the part he wanted in his school play.”

I’d kinda just wanted to say that out loud. My boyfriend. It still didn’t feel real.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” Tayla said, and I assumed what she really meant was that she didn’t know I had relationships with other humans outside of my family at all. Which would have been fair. I mean, I still barely did, Jethro was just some weird fluke.

“Well, we only just started dating this weekend.”

“So you’re gay?” Brandon butted in. He had no tact. He did not care. I kind of liked him more for it.

“Yup.”

“That’s cool,” Brandon said. “My cousin’s gay. She’s getting married to her girlfriend soon and I’m gonna go to the wedding.”

Were we bonding? Was that what was happening here? We didn’t usually talk about anything more personal than our board game preferences.

“Do you have a picture of your boyfriend?” Tayla asked.

I had fifty fucking million pictures of my boyfriend. He sent them to me constantly and I was not complaining.

“Yeah, hold on.” I scrolled way back through my saved pictures and found that picture he’d taken of us together the first time he’d cut my hair. He’d sent it to me after I went home that day. I wasn’t sure they’d believe someone as gorgeous as Jethro was actually dating me if I didn’t at least prove I knew him and that he would willingly come into physical contact with me.

“Aw, you’re so cute together!” Tayla said. “Congrats on the boyfriend.”

“Thank you,” I said. “He’s a very high quality boy.”

“Oh, hey, before I forget, Mrs Hardacre is doing a textiles class next term for Wednesday afternoons. Like, learning to knit and stuff. She said there would be limited slots, but I can get you signed up in advance if you want.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” It did, actually. Maybe I could knit something for Jethro in thanks for my beloved necklace.

“Hey!” Brandon said. “Did you just offer him that because he’s gay?”

“No! I just remembered now, that’s all.”

Brandon folded his arms over his chest. “Well… you didn’t ask me if I wanted to take textiles with you next term.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes, I do!”

Tayla smiled and shook her head. “Okay, I’ll get you in too.”

#

After that, I sort of had friends somehow? The next time I passed Brandon on the way to class he stopped me and handed me a fistful of little Easter eggs, nodded, and kept going.

I ran into Tayla in the library and we had a long conversation about our pets. She seemed thrilled that I actually wanted to see pictures of her cats. When the bell rang, she asked for my number and gave me hers.

“Don’t call me,” I told her, because I hadn’t been upfront about that with Jethro and it hadn’t gone well.

“Okay…” she said, and I realised what I’d said had come out rudely.

“I mean, you can text me. I just hate, you know. Phone conversations.”

“Oh!” She brightened up again. “Yeah, me too. They’re super awkward. Send me a picture of your dog later, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Great! See you later.”

Huh. So maybe the secret to having friends was just, like… talking to people, at all, ever. Not that I’d super wanted them before, but now that people were talking to me it was kinda nice.