The Curious One

Forewarning

"Luna, I'm so sorry."

I had heard those words numerous times since we left the nightclub. It was now after eight o'clock at night, and as promised I was walking him back to his apartment. Luckily, he was not one of those guys who was too prideful for receiving help from me. If Nick did that, it would be to make sure I got home safe, not because he was embarrassed to have the traditional "girl role" in the situation. When he did actually try for a moment to protest and flip the cards on me, I crossed my arms across my chest and attempted to look serious. It was not until I mentioned that after what he did I deserved to have my way in something that he ashamedly complied. It brought back that same phrase again, with a slight variation.

"Luna, I really am so sorry, I didn't . . . uh, you know . . . mean it?"

At this failed attempt at making an excuse, I turned around and, with some guilt for making him feel worse, and walked several feet ahead of him. I heard him sigh quietly from behind me, but he didn't try to catch up. Guiltiness growing, I took a deep breath before waiting for him and wrapping my arm around his for a few seconds. Nothing serious happened this time, just him flinching slightly.

"What are you thinking right now?" I asked, looking up into his dark eyes. His were darker than my own, but only because of my flecks of deep green. My irises were highlighted by a ring of lighter brown, like a golden color. He told me that once, and then suddenly excused himself from the room. I think he was having one of his anxiety attacks, all because he just gave me a compliment. That's why I had to ask what was on his mind, otherwise, he wouldn't be able to tell me.

His face darkened, and his response was ambiguous. "I'm afraid of what you think of me. You're one of the only people who supports me for who I am. You know I have trouble connecting with people."

"Hey, don't you ever think there is something wrong with being autistic. It doesn't mean you aren't able to do something other people can do--"

"Yeah, yeah," he brushed off my advice with a wave of his hand. "I've been told that many times, usually paired with the words 'high functioning'. Like I'm a machine that gets along despite being half broken, only half of a machine."

"Nicolas," I reached out an arm to give him a side hug, but he held back. I tried to gently expand his comfort zone in ways of sociability and affection, but sometimes it was too much for him. I did not want to push him too hard, for he was already perfect just the way he was. I put my arm down, and he sighed again. He seemed frustrated with himself this time instead of me.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"I know." I smiled at him and continued to walk along, shivering slightly through my thin sweater. He looked down at his own attire, a simple striped t-shirt.

"Sorry, can't help you much here. I didn't plan on gallivanting around town quite like this." He laughed for a moment before glancing toward the ground sadly. "I can't believe this happened. If only I was normal...I'm tired of being different from other people." If only he would have known then how much I related to that statement.

"Nick, you are wonderful the way you are. You're incredibly smart, going to a great college and doing very well there. And you met me and my friends there too. If you haven't been able to tell in these past few months, we're certainly not ordinary either."

"I know, sorry." He couldn't help himself. "I know you guys have a lot to deal with too, but I can't really understand it because you haven't really told me."

Even though he apologized immediately for what he had just said, I froze in place. I trusted him as much as Ella or Kelli or Freya, and at college, he did not have many other individuals who would be themselves around him. I had to tell him. I turned to face him and began to open my mouth until I saw something behind him.