I look at him feeling utterly unglued. “Are you serious? Do you see me right now?” I’m about to burst into tears in public.
“I’m trying?—”
“Try harder. Jesus. Look, I’ll Venmo you for dinner, just send me a request.”
I leave in an abrupt way, drawing attention, which Deacon doesn’t appear to notice. I’m fighting back tears for about half the walk home as I replay the mess of what just happened in my head when it hits me.
Deacon’sautistic.
The word comes from out of nowhere and hits me square in the forehead, rewiring every thought about every encounter I’ve ever had with Deacon. Approximately half a second later, I feel like the most enormous asshole in the world to have just more or less shouted at him to do better in front of a roomful of people.
Autism would explain literally everything I ever questioned about him—especially the unconventional conversational style at dinner and at least a thousand other little things I always chalked up to shyness or even OCD in the past.
While I’ve got no doubt he’s shy, after that conversation, it’s obvious there’s a hell of a lot more to it than that.
When I sneak into the apartment without Millie noticing, and Apollo is circling my legs at the kitchen counter, I scrawl a note to Deacon on the notepad he keeps there. It’s one of the few ways we reliably communicate.
D—
Sorry I was so rude at dinner. You caught me off guard. I’m not mad at you or Isaac. I hope we can still be friends.
—Evan
That should make it clear where I stand on the matter of living here at least. Although, someone really does need to tell Isaac he’s double dipping because that man is not a fan of surprises.
And I guess I need to slowly back out of all of this. I know myself well enough to know that I’m in shock, but once that wears off, and I have to face the fact that the man I had a raging crush on is potentially falling for the man I hook up with on a near daily basis, I’m going to be devastated.
Hope is like the one thing I can survive on when all else fails, and the removal of all of it is going to sting like a bitch once the numbness wears off.
12
DEACON
While I don’t feel comfortable going into Evan’s bedroom to check and make sure he and I are really okay, after everything that happened tonight, I feel obligated as his roommate to touch base with him. But I’m not in any hurry to do it. I’m cleaning the kitchen slowly—cabinets and all—when he comes out to give Apollo his last walk of the evening.
I don’t say anything as he’s leaving with the dog, and he doesn’t do any more than glance at me.
Something like one minute after he leaves, there’s a knock on the door.
I grip the counter, hanging my head. I don’t think I can handle Millie right now. But I don’t want Evan to have to deal with her again tonight, either.
I crack open the door, but make it clear I’m not planning to invite her in. “Hey.”
“Is Evan here?”
“He’s…not.”
She peeks past me. “Is Apollo? I’d like to take some pictures of him.”
I shake my head. “Is Manon not okay?”
“She’s pregnant.”
“But is she sick? She’s doing okay, right?”
“This is hard on her little body, Deacon. She’s not even a year old, and she’s got who knows how many giant puppies in her belly. Her nipples are the size of quarters, and she has to pee every thirty minutes. I had to buy puppy pads. Do you know how much a dog C-section costs?”
“Why does she have to have a C-section?”
