Mia and the girls around her giggle. Okay. Um. Because you’re… special.
Thank you, I say.
More giggles.
I mean, Mia says, you’re the kind of special that’s a little weird.
Weird?
Mia crosses her arms and breathes out LOUD. Your behavior? You know?
What do you mean? I ask.
She rolls her eyes. Your behavior is… well… disturbing.
Disturbing? My behavior is disturbing? The school shooter’s behavior was disturbing. I start shaking my hands because that word is too scary and I can barely breathe.
She looks at my hands that are shaking faster and faster. Yes. Disturbing.
I am NOT disturbing!
You’re disturbing us right now, one of the girls says. The rest of them start laughing.
Guys, guys! another girl says. Stop it! Stop laughing! She’s autistic. Like William H.
My hands are shaking really fast now. I am NOT autistic!
Some of the girls laugh.
William doesn’t talk. Can you HEAR ME TALKING?
Okay but —
William eats DIRT and SCREAMS when he gets mad! I AM NOT AUTISTIC! I am breathing hard and I want to jump out of my skin but I grit my teeth and shake my hands harder and turn and run away and I hear screaming and I don’t know if it’s music class or Mia or me.
I am sitting in Mrs. Brook’s room staring at the table. I thought special was good, I mutter.
We’re all special in different ways, she says. Special IS good.
Not if it’s disturbing. How come she called me disturbing? And guess what? She disturbs me!
I can feel Mrs. Brook nodding even though I don’t Look At The Person.
Besides, I tell her, I’m NOT autistic. William H. is autistic.
Caitlin, she says. Did you know that William is very good at soccer? And that he can play the piano? And that he’s my friend?
No. I knew that he had Mrs. Brook time but I didn’t know they were friends.
I like William, Mrs. Brook says. And I can’t play the piano at all or play soccer. We all have different talents —
I know, I say.
But Mrs. Brook talks right on top of my words — and just because we’re better at some things than William doesn’t mean we’re any better than he is.
I didn’t say that.
But it sounds like that’s what you meant.
I nod and sigh. It is what I meant.
Do you see how it’s not fair for you to —
Yes, I say. It’s my turn to talk on top of her words now. I Get It. William H. even remembers to smile a lot more than I do so there are several things he’s better at than me. I sigh again. But I’m still not like him. Not exactly. I Look At The Person. Am I?
We all fall on the spectrum of behavior somewhere. She puts one hand on one side of the table and her other grips the far side. Here’s the spectrum, she says. It’s a line and we’re all on it. Some of us are farther along the line than others.
I know from art class that a spectrum is all the colors of the rainbow. It’s more like a prism than a line. Or maybe a fat line with lots of colors. I don’t like the way colors blur together in art. How do you know where one ends and the other begins? I have to know exactly where I am in space. That’s why I draw in black and white.
Mrs. Brook picks up one hand and runs a finger almost all the way to the end of the table. You’re around here. Very high functioning. Very smart. Very capable.
William H. is on the other side, I say.
William is farther along the line. Yes.
I grip the edges of the table like Mrs. Brook and squinch my eyes at the tabletop and wonder which spot EXACTLY is me. I don’t want to run into anyone else. You just don’t know what might happen.
Are you feeling better now Caitlin?
I think I’ll skip the friend thing.
You should be very proud of yourself for trying so hard today. Remember that everyone can find a friend. She is still gripping the edges of the table. So hard that her knuckles are pale. And obviously we need to work on friendship skills in the fifth grade as a whole. These girls need some educating.
They need to learn some finesse too, I say.
Mrs. Brook nods. Yes. And some better friendship skills.
I know it. They will never make friends that way.
CHAPTER 31
IT’S A GIRL THING
AFTER RECESS I HATE PE THE most. Recess I hate because everyone screams and runs around crazy and grabs you and pushes you and you have absolutely no idea what will happen next. At least in PE there is a teacher so you know what will happen next even though it might involve screaming, grabbing and running around crazy.
Class! Mr. Mason shouts. He always shouts. It’s just what PE teachers do. Boys! JoshNelson-BruceShaneJoey! Stop that right now or you’ll be getting a special one-way ticket to see Miss Harper!
I don’t see why they get to have a special one-way ticket to the principal’s office. I’m behaving myself perfectly and I am getting no free tickets.
I’m breaking you boys up! Josh — Josh! You and Nelson are on that side of the gym and the rest of you hooligans are on this side! Shane and Bruce! You’re in charge of William H. His assistant isn’t here today. Make sure he doesn’t run off if I turn my back!
Can we have free play today? a boy asks.
When pigs fly, Mr. Mason says. I’m not sure what he means by that.
Dodgeball today! he yells, and I start sucking on my sleeve. Dodgeball is bad enough but I hope he doesn’t try to make us wear pinnies. I hate the feel of them. And they remind me of clamshells and I hate the gooey icky inside of a clam.
He goes to the closet and pulls out the big cardboard box with the pinnies and I start sucking both sleeves. He grabs William H. who is trying to run out the door. Shane and Bruce! What did I just tell you? You’re watching William H.! Everyone else — put on these pinnies! And hurry! William H. loves dodgeball so the sooner we get this game started the better! Mr. Mason starts throwing yellow and red pinnies at people around the gym.
A yellow one lands at my feet and I stare at it.
Come on Caitlin! Pick it up!
I stare at it.
What’s the problem!
I don’t like clams.
Me neither! Put on the pinnie!
Mr. Mason! Shane yells. I can’t hold William H.!
Mr. Mason swears and goes to grab William H. Hurry up and get ready! He looks over at me. Caitlin! The pinnie!