How to Think Like a Computer

May 16

Today I am going to my first birthday party.

First, I changed into my swimsuit. It's all blue and green, and it's basically shorts and a t-shirt made out of swimsuit material. I thought I might get cold, so I put on a sweater over it.

Then I told Alan about my camera-headband idea. He thought it sounded good.

Then I worked on a website that I'm making. I think it's going to be a blog with all of these journal entries on it. Some people might find them interesting someday.

Then someone's mom came to pick me up. My parents had arranged a carpool system of transportation because our maglev was doing something else at that time.

I sat down in the car, and put my bag on my lap. There were two girls next to me: Mia and Estelle. I know Mia because I often have to sit next to her in school, but I only know Estelle very vaguely. The boy sitting in the passenger seat, Devon, had earphones in and was (presumably) listening to music off the Ambinet. Devon's mom was sitting in the driver's seat. I don't see why it's still called the driver's seat, because the person doesn't drive the car: the car drives the people.

Mia and Estelle stopped talking as soon as I got in the car, which was nice, because I prefer it when people don't talk. Then Mia just started looking at me. That was strange.

"Awkward silence," Estelle whispered.

Devon's mom turned around. "Hey, sweeties, why aren't you talking? I'm sure Torrin would love to talk to you."

"She has autism," Mia said. "She doesn't talk."

"Oh, that's such a shame," murmured Devon's mom.

I was a bit offended, so I said: "I talk, but only when it's about a subject I'm interested in."

Devon's mom said: "Oh... um... okay. What do you like to talk about?"

I said immediately: "Computers."

No one responded, so I assumed that they didn't want to talk. That was perfectly fine with me.

After approximately thirty seconds of silence, Mia told the car to play the current top 40 pop hits. Extremely loud music blared out of the speakers, and I immediately covered my ears. I don't think Mia and Estelle noticed, because they were singing along.

"Turn it off!" I screamed.

They didn't pay any attention.

I pressed the "mute" button on the side of the door. The car suddenly became blissfully quiet.

"Hey!" yelled Estelle. "We were enjoying that!"

"I wasn't," I said.

"Well, it's not our fault you're so sensitive," said Mia.

This annoyed me a lot, so I told her angrily, "You don't understand. I can't handle—"

"This may come as a bit of a surprise, Torrin," Mia interrupted, "but the world doesn't actually revolve around you."

I was about to inform her that the world actually revolves around the sun, which in turn revolves around the center of the Milky Way galaxy, which in turn revolves around the gravitational anomaly in the vicinity of the Hydra-Centaurus Supercluster—but then I remembered that it was a metaphor and she was implying that I was egocentric. Which made me angry, because they were blaming me for my sensory processing disorder.

For the rest of the car ride, Mia and Estelle talked quietly about boring topics like celebrities, boys, reality TV shows, and shopping. I was glad because they weren't talking too loudly, and they weren't talking to me or about me.