Getting a Clue | ✓

Chapter 5

I didn't do well with suddenly changing plans. I would have felt better if I'd had a couple of weeks to really ruminate over the idea of going over the Jethro's house. I needed time to thoroughly mentally map the entire situation.

And yeah, I knew that was kind of just an anxiety thing and not really necessary and all that. Except for all those times I had been dumped into a situation unprepared and I had fucked things up because I hadn't known what to do.

That's the thing about autism and how it feeds into social anxiety, I think. We do fuck up. If I abandoned caution entirely, I'd fuck up a lot more and not always in ways that didn't matter. The line between what was useful and what was self destructive was blurred.

And frankly the whole thing was not so much within my control, either, which I supposed was the bad part. It didn't matter if I didn't want to think or worry about this shit. I could decide not to and literally five seconds later I'd be right back there.

Jethro was, ironically, providing the best distraction. They were painting, and he kept sending me pictures and basically live texting the entire class. He wasn't a very good painter, which was kind of a relief to see. He had too many skills and it made me feel inadequate.

I made sure I was ready and waiting outside by the time he came to get me after school. I wanted to avoid any possibility of my dad saying anything embarrassing to him.

Jethro greeted me with a smile. He had a flower tucked behind his ear. "Hey."

"Hey." God, I hoped I could act like a normal human for two fucking hours. Or at least an acceptably abnormal one.

Jethro led the way down a quieter side street, off the main road. "Haven't changed your mind about me cutting your hair?"

That was the absolute least of my worries. Could he actually cut hair? I hardly gave a shit. If he fucked it up I'd just shave it all off and probably still end up looking better than I did now. "Nope."

"My house is about twenty minutes walk from here. Not too far!"

But more than long enough for my lack of conversation skills to become apparent. "You have paint on your hands."

"Yeah, I didn't want to waste time after class trying to wash it all off." He lifted his hands up and wiggled his painty fingers in front of him. "Got places to be today."

It took me a moment to realise he meant with me. It would never stop surprising me that he actually valued my company. "It suits you, anyway. Colourful."

"Well, you know me." He shot me a smile. "If I'm going to be a dirty boy, I'll do it with style."

And somehow the conversation kept going, and it was only minimally weird and awkward.

Jethro lived in a normal house on a normal street. I didn't know what I'd been expecting, but somehow anything mundane about him came as a surprise.

He led me upstairs, and there it was. His room was much closer to my expectations.

Jethro never missed an opportunity to express who he was, and his bedroom decoration reflected that. He had a lava lamp, and fairy lights, and art prints on his walls. It was kind of chaotic, but at the same time it came together. Much like him.

The first thing he did was go over and open the little door to Linda's cage. She immediately climbed out onto the table the cage was on and sniffed the air.

"You can say hello if you want," Jethro told me. "She won't bite."

"What if I'm just really tasty?" I asked, but I offered the rat my hand anyway.