Learning to Fly

That night I locked myself in my room. Jordan, utilizing that damn big brother sense of his, knew something was wrong the moment I refused to come down for dinner. He tried to get me to come out of my room by attempting to bribe me with everything from pizza to cheesecake to $20. But I wouldn't respond beyond just saying I didn't feel good. He finally gave up around nine, leaving me to my misery. Caleb texted me as some point telling me he was sorry, but I didn't respond to it. I had decided it would be best if I didn't. I still couldn't handle talking to him. I finally cried myself to sleep around midnight, never even bothering to take off my clothes.

I awoke the next morning dreading the day. Slowly I dragged myself out of bed and went into the bathroom and inspected my bruises, they looked even worse now than they did last night, deep purples contrasting with sickly yellows. And fuck did they hurt.

I took a hot shower, carefully washing where it hurt the most. Once finished, I brushed my teeth and hit up my Old Spice Fiji deodorant before changing into a fresh shirt and pair of jeans. Grabbing my hoodie in anticipation of what the news had warned would be the first cold morning of the year, I headed downstairs. Jordan had already placed some chocolate chip Eggos in the toaster for me and left out the bacon flavored syrup (It's a real thing I promise), as well as a note saying he headed into work early to get a head start on a mechanical job.

Relieved that I would get to avoid Jordan for now, I ate what I could of my waffles before deciding I wasn't all that hungry. I dumped the remainder of my food in the trash, grabbed my backpack and headed out the door as soon as I slipped on my shoes, locking it behind me.

I heard a text alert go off and saw a message from Caleb.

"Am I gonna c u or should I take the bus?"

"I'm taking the bus."

It was accurate, but the response was mostly so I didn't have to be a dick and tell him I didn't want to see him this morning (We had separate buses conveniently enough). I needed time to process how to keep Caleb safe from Willie and I couldn't do that if I had to spend half my time fantasizing about him like some weirdo and the other half yelling at him to mind his own business.

I stood at the stop with some random kids I didn't know, a few of them looking at me weirdly since this was actually the first time I had ever ridden the bus in the morning. I pulled my hoodie over my head, partly to hide from their looks and partly because it really was brisk this morning and I REALLY hated the cold. I plugged my headphones in and began listening to music.

The bus finally pulled up and I boarded. After finding an empty row a little more than halfway down the bus, I sat down and looked out the window as we began our trek to whatever stops remained and then off to my hell.

At some point along the journey I pulled my phone out and texted Jake. I honestly don't really remember doing it, but I guess I subconsciously decided to reach out to the one person I knew understood the hellish nightmare I found myself in. I only realized I had texted him when I received an alert that he had responded, asking me what was up.

I texted back asking him if he could meet me in the cafeteria. To which he responded that he could and asked if everything was ok.

I didn't respond to his question. I just... just didn't want to, I guess. I don't really understand what my reasons were honestly. Most of the morning was a fog for me until we finally reached the school.

I made my way into the cafeteria and over to the vending machines, grabbing a Dr. Pepper and texting Jake my location. I took gradual sips on my drink, carefully observing the students idly gathered, going about their mornings in a number of different ways.

I wonder how many of them know what kind of monster lurks these hallways. I thought to myself.

I looked up towards where the cafeteria turns into the main hallway and as if on cue, became filled with dread as I saw Weathers and his cronies walking down it, acting like everything was swell in the world, which, to them, I'm sure it was.

Don't look this way. Don't look this way, I silently prayed as I looked down, hoping they wouldn't see me.

My luck held and they continued down the hallway and out of sight without ever even looking in my general direction. So far this day has been an improvement. I breathed a sigh of relief and began watching the bus entrance at the back of the cafeteria to either find Jake or avoid Caleb. Or both I guess.

Fortune smiled on me again when I saw Jake's lanky form walk through the doors. He was wearing some baggy jeans with sneakers and a dark grey t-shirt underneath an unbuttoned read plaid shirt. I flagged him down and he gave me a small wave and made his way over to me.

"Hey," he said as walked up to me.

"Hey," I responded back.

"You are looking rather `emo' this morning. Is that your thing or are you having a particular bad morning?" he asked in a tone that I decided was sarcasm.

I ignored his question and motioned for him to follow me and I led him to a back hallway that no one usually used at this point in the morning. Without saying a word, I just lifted my shirt and hoodie and showed him my side, turning slightly so he could get a view of my back as well.

Jake sighed at the sight.

"I told you Weathers was not to be taken lightly."

"Fuck you dude," I replied as I lowered my shirt and hoodie.

"I'm sympathetic Koenig. Believe me I am. But I have gotten worse than that. Once he beat me so bad I missed school the next day."

"Christ..." was all I could say. And what's with the last names?

"You can get used to the beatings. I did. The worst part though is the uncertainty. Of not knowing when or where he is going to beat you again. The always looking over your shoulder. And sometimes he just plays mind games with you. Taunts you, making threats. There have been days I have been driven almost insane wondering if a casual comment he makes to me in passing is just him toying with me or a harbinger of things to come."

"He threatened Caleb, Jake. He told me if I told anyone about what happened he will hurt him," I informed him, my voice cracking slightly. To this Jake's normally world-weary eyes softened.

"You have to believe him. Obviously, I did not have a `threatening stage' when Weathers started after me and Andrew. He made both of our lives a type of hell right from the start. But I can imagine the mental hell hearing that must have been," he told me sympathetically.

Well there's a first name. I noticed before replying, "Yeah. And worse, Caleb found me in the locker room after it happened yesterday, and I had to lie to him. Again. He totally doesn't believe me when I told him I slipped…​"

Jake gave me a look that effectively said, "and you're surprised how?"

"Ok Mr. Expert! What would you have said!?"

"I do not know but one look at you says you did a little more than slip. If that was Weathers' `suggested' story he must be getting lazy. But I digress. What happened? I am going to assume it did not go well."

I sighed before proceeding to tell him everything that happened after Caleb found me. Jake listened in silence, only occasionally nodding.

"So that's where me and him are now," I said, pausing a moment before continuing. "I don't know what to do. I feel like the only option I have is to push him away so he won't get hurt by Willie, but I don't want to lose my best fucking friend and be the reason he's hurting on the inside. I'm at such a fucking loss." I finished, running my hands through my hair.

"Well you should definitely keep some space from Caleb for the immediate future (first name again there, but then again, I also never told him Caleb's last name). Your guys' feelings are... running high we will say. You both need some time to cool off more than likely. But do not push him away forever. I do not wish to see anyone else to end up alone like me," Jake counseled me.

Damn he's actually kinda wise.

I nodded in understanding before replying, "Thanks dude. I appreciate the understanding and advice. And you're not alone, not anymore at least." I smiled at Jake and reached out to pat his shoulder, but he stopped me.

"Sorry, nothing personal but unless its sex stuff, I am not much for touching," he said, though with a smile of his own.

"Understood. Unless it's your dick I can't touch you," I grinned goofily at him, and, for a moment at least, I felt like my old self.

"Yeah, something like that," Jake said with playful eye roll before glancing over at the digital clock hanging on the wall. "Hey though, school will be starting pretty soon. I would assume that you also would prefer to not be late."

With that, we said our goodbyes and headed our separate ways. I managed to avoid Caleb the rest of the day, at least, the parts where we didn't share a class, though it seemed like he was doing the same to me. That being said, I caught him looking at me a few times in class. But whenever I would meet his gaze, I saw the hurt and anger that was residing inside him. Seeing that killed me, but I didn't have a choice right now.

After school is where my luck ran out with avoiding people. As the bus approached my stop, I saw Jordan's truck in the driveway.

Fuck, I sighed to myself. So that's why he went in so early this morning.

I got off the bus and slowly made my way to the house. Every step bringing more and more dread of the inevitable interrogation Jordan was going to put me through. I paused at the door for moment, briefly considering turning around and going somewhere else.

Oh who the fuck am I kidding, he knows I'm home. He'll chase my ass down if I try and pull that stunt again. Seriously. That actually happened once.

I took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping inside and shutting it behind me and waiting for my summoning.

"Jesse. Kitchen. Now." Came my brother's stern voice.

I walked into the kitchen and saw Jordan sitting at the table drinking a bottle of his favorite beer, Dos Equis.

"Have a good day at school?" he asked.

Ok, easy start at least.

"Yeah it was fine. How was work?"

"It was good. Spivey let me bounce a little early. You’re smart enough to know why," he replied, looking at me expectantly.

"I had a bad day yesterday. Caleb and me got into it pretty bad and I just wanted to be alone last night ok?" I explained, hoping he'd just buy it, even though it was pretty much the truth.

He looked at me and nodded, processing the information I had just presented him. He then took another drink of his beer and responded,

"Two things." He held up two fingers as he said that, because apparently I don't know what two is. "First, what did you two children squabble about this time? And second, why in the hell are you walking around so funny?"

Fuck is my walk that off? Dammit! I need to play this off, but how?

"Well?" Jordan asked with a slight bit of impatience.

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck! Think Jesse! You need an excuse.... SUICIDES! THANK YOU COACH LESTER, YOU FUCKING DICK!

"I was late to gym yesterday. Coach told me I had to stay after and run suicides as punishment. I talked back and he made me do it again today during gym. I'm just really sore from it," I lied out my fucking quick-thinking ass.

Jordan nodded and replied, "Alright. I hope you learned your lesson."

"You have no idea bro."

"Now what about you and Caleb?"

"He was giving me shit about `screwing up for once' and I was so annoyed and pissed off about the suicides yesterday that I snapped at him pretty bad. And well, you know he can get feisty sometimes and we just need some time to cool off from being hotheads."

Bingo. Could write a goddamn book on lying. Wait, I shouldn't be proud of that.

Jordan meanwhile just sighed and took another drink.

"God you two. Well I'm not feeling cooking tonight, so I'm thinking it's take-out Thursday. What you feeling?"

So thankfully it appears he bought my story. Unlike with Caleb, if Jordan didn't buy my story there's no way to get him off my case. He would literally tie me to a chair and extract the information from me KGB style. Or something close to that at least.

"Chinese maybe? Haven't had Panda's in a while," I answered him.

"Yeah I can do that. I'll go pick it up around 6:30," he told me as he got up and finished his beer.

"Cool. Hey, so, I'm gonna head up to my room. Do some homework."

"Ok. And Jesse?" he said to me as I turned to head upstairs.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning back to look at him.

"Just remember, if there's ever anything bothering you, you can talk to me. I'm always here for you no matter what."

"Yeah. I know." I immediately turned back around and hurried up the stairs before I got emotional.

'''

Friday came and went uneventfully. I continued to keep my distance from Caleb, though it was now primarily out of fear of Willie seeing me with him and learning who Caleb was, rather than me just not wanting to deal with Caleb wanting me to tell him the truth of my bruises.

I guess Jordan assumed we would have already made up because he was surprised when I got home Friday and I had Grant with me instead of Caleb.

Oh yeah, I should probably back up a tad really quick.

Grant approached me at lunch today and asked me what was up between me and Caleb since this was the second day in a row that we weren't sitting together at lunch. I just told him we got into it and need some space. Fortunately, Grant's not the prying type and just took it at that. I ended up inviting him over to hang out that night and play some Gears 4 with me.

So where were we... ok right, Jordan was surprised to see Grant (I mean, he knows I have other friends, right?), but quickly did the standard `hello, how are you' routine before telling us he was ordering some Pizza Hut (stuffed crust for the win!) and he'd let us know when it was here.

It was a fun night; it was really just the night I needed honestly. I was able to completely forget all the shit going on in my life for a bit. And Grant showed me the proper way to chainsaw motherfuckers online. Ah, the small things in life. Oh, and pizza is good too. Don't wanna forget that. But there was one part of the night I probably should touch on.

It was somewhere around 11 pm. Jordan had gone to bed already because he had work in the morning. Me and Grant had just won a multiplayer match on Gears 4 and decided to take a little break to go to the bathroom and grab some fresh sodas. As we returned to the upstairs common area, which me and Jordan had turned into a game room, we plopped down on the couch and began chit chatting. Nothing major at first, school and gaming talk really. Then came the girls.

"So dude, You know who Rhett Anderson is right?" Grant asked me suddenly after he finished explaining the best way to survive on a certain Gears map.

"Uh... I think I have her in my geography class? Why?" I asked.

"You think you have her in your class? Dude! A chick as hot as that you should definitely know!"

Ah Christ, I really don't wanna have a `who's hotter' debate or try and judge boobs on people I don't even know...

"Well I'm thinking about asking her out to the homecoming dance. I know she's probably out of my league but hey, go big or go home right?" Grant told me with the excitement of a Labrador puppy fetching its first ball.

Aha! Now I remember her! Long brunette hair, small face with a pointy nose and huge boobs! And don't judge me for remembering her because of her huge tits. They stand out ok?

"Hey that's the spirit! Go for it dude!" I encouraged him. I mean, he's probably gonna get shot down horribly but hey, how can I not be excited for him right now?

"You thinking of asking anyone to the dance?"

Damnit to fuck. How did I not see that question coming?

"Uh... Well... See... um..." Any damn day now Jesse! "Dances aren't really my thing. So I'm not gonna go. Soooo... no need to ask anyone!" Huh, actually not bad. Also, it's true! So that helps.

"Ah ok I can understand that," Grant replied. "Well any girls that have caught your eye in general?"

Jesus ever-loving Christ I can't escape this topic!

"Nah, not right now. I haven't been looking that hard though. I don't think I'm really ready to date yet you know?" You know, I actually believe that one myself. Nice Jesse James.

Grant briefly thought about what I said before replying, "Yeah, I guess. You’re probably just a late bloomer in the dating department. Or hey, maybe you just secretly like dudes!"

He added a playful shove at the end to let me know he wasn't being serious but it still kinda hit me. I'm not gay... maybe bi... but definitely not gay. I'm just a late bloomer, like he initially said...

I guess I was silent a little too long because Grant quickly added, "Hey just messing dude. You're a late bloomer."

"Yeah I know you are," I replied. "It's all good. Just a little tired, I guess. Been a long week." By the way, just now noticed you can't spell replied without lied. Which I had been making a habit of lately.

"Yeah I bet. By the way, I know I asked earlier, but you and Caleb gonna be ok? He seems miserable."

I actually did see that coming. Didn't want to talk about it, but I saw it coming.

"Yeah, like I said before, we got into it bad and just need some space. Don't worry about it dude."

Grant just nodded and asked if I was ready to play some more matches on Gears 4. I happily agreed so we could get off of girls and Caleb and the night returned to its much-needed carefree feel.

Grant went home the next morning and since Jordan had to work at least part of the day on Saturday I had the house to myself to just recover. I won't bore you with the details, but I spent the day trying to be a normal teen. Namely played more video games, ate cold pizza and masturbated a bunch. Though it probably wasn't normal I kept trying to watch porn with boyish looking girls and it still wasn't doing everything for me...

Anyway, Sunday was standard for the fall. Watched football with Jordan, though it was minus Caleb this time and I know Jordan wanted to say something about it. But he thankfully left it alone.

The week... well the week was awkward. Keeping distance from Caleb for this long was absolutely unheard of for me and it fucking sucked. I could see from the occasional looks I took of him that he was just as miserable as I was. I hated myself so much but... well I'm beating a dead horse at this point I guess.

Willie fortunately must have been preoccupied with other things because he didn't harass me or Jake at all this week. So blessings for that.

Speaking of Jake, he invited me over to his house Saturday. So that's neat. And I really need something to do besides obsess over the fact I miss my best friend I have to stay away from... yeah, Jake's house. Should be interesting.

I got to his house around noon. Turns out he lives only about a 10-minute walk from me. The neighborhood was lower middle class but nice enough. He lived in a 2-story house with bluish tinted brick and a dark blue wooden door. The fence didn't look the greatest but most of them didn't anyway.

I walked up his house, rang the bell and waited. After a few moments a girl who appeared to be somewhere close to 20, had a lit cigarette in her snake-bite pierced mouth and looked like someone who frequented an Avril Lavigne concert, answered the door.

"Can I help you?" she asked rather bitchy as she took a drag on her fag (I'm proud of that rhyme. You can kiss my ass if you don't like it.).

"I'm looking for Jake?" I said (Asked?).

"Hey dipshit. One of your fag friends is here to see you," she called out without taking her eyes off me. Also, fag friend? What the fuck? Do I look gay? I don't think I do…​ What makes people think that? Or is this instant karma for the rhyme?

"He is not a fag Zoe. Not everyone I talk to is. You do not need to be such a bitch," I heard Jake say calmly from the top of the stairs.

Damn! Jake's got zingers!

"Watch your mouth you little fag!" the one called Zoe replied back with more than a hint of venom, turning to look up at Jake.

I used the opportunity to take a peek inside. The house wasn't anything super special, probably (well, definitely) could use some spot cleaning and the furniture was definitely a bit older but seemed functional enough. There was an odd smell though I was trying to finger...

"Can you please just let him in, and you can get back to smoking your pot." I heard Jake ask.

Pot. That's it. That's what I'm smelling. Though if she's smoking pot then why the hell did she light a cigarette... you know what? who cares.

"Whatever," Zoe said without hiding her contempt as she turned and started heading back towards the living room. "Have fun with my fag brother," she said to me without looking back, taking a deep drag and exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Feeling a tad awkward and still wondering if I was giving off gay vibes somehow, I slowly stepped inside and shut the door and went to take my shoes off.

"Take them off in my room, Koenig. Her dog may eat them otherwise if she lets him in."

Ok then. Zoe has a shoe-eating dog. Fun fact to store away for I don't know when.

I made my way up the stairs and into Jakes room, following him. When we got inside, I looked around briefly. His room was pretty dated looking like the rest of the house, but it was actually pretty immaculate. Twin-sized bed made, no dirty clothes laying out, all his books and such on his bookshelf neat and organized. Chess board on the small desk already set up.

"Sorry about my sister. She can be a bitch sometimes," Jake explained as he shut the door.

"Ah sister. Figured that was the relation. And it’s cool," I replied back. But seriously? Fag? "But doesn't it bother you that she calls you names?"

Jake just gave a nonchalant shrug. "I guess it did once. But as you know, there are worse things."

A shiver went up my spine as he said that, knowing all too well what he meant.

"So what did you wanna do?" I asked, really wanting to change the subject.

"Are you any good at cards?" Jake asked.

"I can play war and go fish. Everything else involves too much math and I'm out!" I joked. But seriously.

Jake however just looked at me like I was a moron (probably not wrong).

"Ok. Well, since I'm pretty sure you do not code... Can you play chess?"

"Yeah I used to play with Jordan a lot." Jake gave me a confused look. "Oh, have I never mentioned my brother? Yeah I live with him and his name is Jordan."

"What about your parents?"

"What about them?"

"Where are they at?

"I uh, don't actually know. Jordan doesn't really say much about them. I think my mom's dead though. Just the way Jordan talks about her from what I have gotten out of him. He always makes it seem like she only exists in the past. And my dad, well, I have never gotten Jordan to say anything about him," I explained.

"I am sorry to hear that," Jake replied flatly.

I feel like emotions aren't exactly this guy's thing.

"It's ok. I barely have any memories of my mom and none of my dad. So it's not like I knew them. So there's nothing to miss, I guess. Plus, I have Jordan and he's all the family I need," I said with a shrug.

"Ah ok. I understand."

"Like, you understand personally or just understand what I'm saying?" I asked.

"I understand what you are saying. Though my parents and I are not very close. So, I could almost understand personally."

Well this clearly needed a follow up.

"What do you mean dude?" I asked as I sat down on his bed. Jake remained standing as he responded,

"My parents take very little interest in my life beyond making sure I am clothed and fed. Basically, just enough to make Child Protective Services happy."

I was about to ask if they abused him too before he cut me off.

"Please do not misunderstand, they have never abused me. But they do not exactly love me either. I am just kind of a `requirement' to them. I guess having a son that has a degree of Asperger's Syndrome is not ideal for them."

"Wait, `Ass burgers'?" I asked with the most confused look on my face.

Jake rolled his eyes before replying, "It is pronounced As-per-ger's. I will not dull you with the details, but it is a type of autism and it is why I am not much for touching or why I don't really have any friends. Even before the bullying started. I also am a clean freak and have issues with displaying proper emotion, hence why I am always so stoic. Easier that way."

"Oh ok. I've heard of that before. I'm sorry to hear that dude," I told him sympathetically.

"There is no need to be. It is what it is. I have no control over it. Plus, it is a rather mild version of it from what I can gather."

"Well that's good... wait a minute, if you don't like being touched, then how come you said you're ok with sex stuff?" I asked quizzically.

"I am not sure honestly. It is not the greatest understood condition ever. But for whatever reason, whenever me and Andrew did stuff together, I did not mind being touched or touching someone."

"Ok..." I replied, still not really getting it.

"Look you do not need to understand it. I am not, nor will I be, offended. So how about we play that game of chess?" Jake offered.

"Yeah that sounds good. But really quick, I notice you refer to your ex as Andrew. But you refer to me and Willie by our last names. Why is that? Is that an autistic thing?'

Jake paused to think for a second. I honestly wondered if anyone had ever asked him that before.

"I am not sure Koenig. I just always have unless the share a very close relationship with them, in the case of Andrew, or they are `family', such as Zoe. I have never really given it much thought. Just another quirk of mine I suppose."

"So, Andrew, was he... like... you?" I asked awkwardly, unsure how to word my question.

"He was not. But he had a cousin from New York who was involved with someone on the spectrum. So through him he understood me better than most," Jake explained.

"Ah ok," I said with a nod. "So, chess then. You wanna be the black or the white pieces?" I asked as I looked over at the preset board.

"They are exactly the same," Jake said flatly.

"I mean... yeah... but some people... you know... have a preference." Needless to say, I was caught off guard by that.

"That is an odd preference to have unless you really just love to go first. So, unless your strategy is dependent on that, which is not a good strategy anyway, color has minimal impact on the outcome of the game," Jake replied matter of fact.

Ok... so I didn't have anything witty for that.

"You know, you're right! Doesn't matter at all! Just pick one and let's play!"

Jake just looked at me like I was speaking gibberish as he walked over and slowly picked up his chess board, carefully transporting it to his bed and setting it down.

"I did not say that. But since the white pieces are already in front of me, I will use those."

"Cool, I'm down with black!" I said as I repositioned myself on the bed.

"I do not know why you would not be. Like I said, the color of the pieces has minimal impact on the game."

Gods give me strength... "Jake let’s just start the game dude. Your move."

And then he proceeded to whip my ass. In less than 10 moves.

"Well, definitely thought that was going to go better..." I said flatly as Jake declared "Checkmate."

"Would you like to switch pieces and see if the white pieces work better for you?" Jake asked as he beat me.

My eyes immediately opened wide and I went on the offensive, "Ok now hold on, mofo you know damn well --" He's smiling. That bastard just got me! "Oh har-de-har-har! You made a joke. Smartass," I said with a playful smile.

"Humor is not my strong suit, but occasionally I pull it off," Jake replied, still smiling.

We actually spent the next couple hours playing chess. Jake was clearly showing why he was a member of the chess club, as he repeatedly whipped my ass as I stubbornly refused to switch pieces, determined to get a win using the black ones. He even gave himself a handicap and at the beginning of the last match removed his queen from the board and I still got my ass beat! I was having fun though. Made it my own little mini game to try and survive longer than the previous match.

"That is fine. What would you like to do now?" Jake asked as he began to gather up all the chess pieces and place them in their proper locations on the board.

"Not sure exactly. We could always just sit here and talk, get to know each other better," I suggested as Jake slowly moved his chess board back to its original location.

"I suppose we could," Jake replied.

"We don't have to if you don't want to, dude."

"No it is fine. I am just not used to people wanting to know about me that is all," Jake told me as he sat back down on his bed Indian style across from me.

"Ok cool. Well I guess I'll go first. So... um... is it difficult living with Asperger's?"

"I suppose. I have definitely read how I can seem to other people who bother to notice me. But this is all I have ever known. So it is just my normal to me."

"Ok that makes sense, I guess. You definitely are pretty damn blunt though!" I said with a laugh.

"It is part of my charm I suppose."

Damn! He does have some wit when he wants to!

I chuckled and responded, "Yeah charm, let's go with that. So if you don't mind a quick follow up..."

"I do not," Jake replied before I could even finish asking.

"Oh, um, ok cool... So, like, I know you have trouble showing emotion, I've heard though that people on the spectrum have trouble reading emotions. Is that true?"

"Yes and no I suppose. It is true many people with autism have problems identifying emotional cues from other people but Autism itself is not the cause."

I must have looked as lost as I felt, because Jake quickly began to explain further.

"According to an article published by Rebecca Brewer from the University of East London and Jennifer Murphy from King's College in London last year, people with autism who have trouble recognizing emotion in others also have the condition known as alexithymia. People with this scan the eyes and mouth, the usual places we get our emotional cues from, in altered patterns, which is believed to be why they do not properly register other people's emotions in their mind," Jake finished explaining as if he was a lecturer himself.

I on the other hand just sat there like he had tried to explain the proper procedure for performing a triple bypass.

"Sooooo... for my mind's sake I'm just gonna shorten that to having autism doesn't mean you can't read emotions." My god maybe I'm not as smart as I sometimes think...

"That is fine. I am not trying to enlighten you. You asked and I answered. Whatever you get from it is up to you," Jake replied nonchalantly.

To that I gave Jake a blank look and what surely had to be history's most in-depth and philosophical thumbs-up ever.

"What would you like to be when you `grow up'?" Jake asked me as he moved the conversation along.

I actually had to think about that for a second. Didn't help.

"I really don't know. I guess I'll figure it out at some point," I told him with a shrug. "How about you?"

"Be a programmer for Google," Jake answered instantly.

"Oh wow you really have that figured out don't you!" I said a little surprised at his quick response.

"Yes. I greatly enjoy coding things and Google is one of the world's most successful companies. Plus, it would be nice for a change of scenery."

"Well I'm rooting for you, dude! It would be awesome to have a friend who works for Google!" I told him excitedly.

"Thank you. I really appreciate that, Koenig. I believe, though, it is your turn to ask a question."

Well, he doesn't waste time!

"Do you have a college picked out, too?"

"Stanford."

Jesus, he has his life all planned out doesn't he?

"Well that's cool! Since I've actually heard of that school, I'm assuming it's hard to get into?"

"Very much so. But I intend on making valedictorian. That should go a long way to helping me. Plus, having Asperger's can actually be used in my favor."

"How so?" I asked quizzically.

"Universities love diversity. My understanding is a valedictorian student with Asperger's would be very enticing to them," Jake explained.

"Well that's good I guess?" I really didn't know how to respond to that.

"It is a good thing Koenig. So, how long have you had feelings for Caleb?"

See? Back on schedule as promised! And look at how perceptive Jake is! If you've made it this far, and seriously, thank you for that, you're definitely gonna wanna stick around for the next installment!

Please email me anytime at JesseJamesNiftyEmail@Gmail.com and I'd be more than thrilled to respond to any and all comments, questions and yes, constructive criticism!

 — Jesse