Me too.
What are your plans for spring break?
Not sure yet. I want to see my sister Lizzy. I don’t get to see her as much during the school year.
So you’re going home?
Probably not. She’s attending a drama camp for autistic kids so she won’t even be home. I want to volunteer at it next year because it’s the kind of stuff I want to do after I graduate.
You’ll be great at that. You have such a kind heart, it sounds right up your alley.
And it’s important to give back. I volunteer whenever I can.
You do?
Yup. Usually it’s through my work. I’ve served a lot of soup.
And what do you do for work again?
Nice try.
Seriously, though. This camp is great, and they do important work.
What do you love about it?
I love the way they treat these kids. How patient they are, never treating them like a burden. I see that so much, especially with Lizzy. People treat her like she’s not a person, like she can’t understand the cruel things being said about her. It’s horrible.
I have experience with that too, with someone in my life.
Someone with ASD?
No, but something similar. My brother was different from his peers. And he was treated like shit because of it.
I’m sorry. I’ve seen people treat Lizzy like she’s not even in the room just because she’s nonverbal. Like she’s not part of a conversation simply because she can’t use words to join in. But she communicates in other ways. And she has emotions like the rest of us. It’s hard when people can’t look past someone’s looks or abilities.
Why do you think I wear a mask?
Sorry, that was a joke. Just trying to make you smile. Wasn’t sure if that came through in text.
Bummer. So you’re not rocking a Phantom of the Opera situation under there?
I am not.
When do I get to see what you look like?
Several hours go by before I give up waiting for a response. This back-and-forth has been going on for about nine months, and I’m nearly at my wit’s end. I’m ready to see the man underneath the mask. He’s probably worried that I won’t find him attractive, but that’s the last thought in my mind. I’ve spent a lot of time getting to know him through text, and I couldn’t be more attracted to him.
I can’t wait to go back to his room at the club for another session. He made all these rules for us to follow, but sometimes I wonder why we even have them when we’re constantly breaking them. Our dynamic was only supposed to exist in the club, but he sought me out through text. He started opening up about his personal life and never stopped me when I broke his rule and asked about his. He’s definitely done more than just solve my touching problem—heck, he hasn’t even touched or seen me since August. And it’s pretty obvious we’re both catching feelings.
His lessons at the club last summer helped me more than he knows, and I ache to feel his touch on my skin again. And even though it should, the thought of his hands on me doesn’t scare me.
——————
I end up staying on campus for spring break. The resident advisor on my floor, Lindsey, says it’s okay for me to stay because she is too, even though the school normally closes the dorms all week. But they lock up the buildings when they close them to students, and our keys only work on interior doors.
“This is my number,” Lindsey says, handing me a slip of paper as she stands in the door of my room. “If you leave the building this week, you’ll need to text me to get in.”
“Thanks.” I pull out my phone and add her number to my contacts. “I’m not really planning on many excursions, but I’ll text you.”
