The door closes behind him, and Dad turns to face her. “What did you do, Kathleen?” he barks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Harrison,” she snaps.
“Delta left. She said she had an emergency.”
My mother blinks, shocked. “H-How unfortunate.”
“Don’t try to pull that with us. I know you said something to that girl.”
“I simply asked her what her intentions were toward you, Sam. It’s not my fault she didn’t take that well.”
“What did you say to her?”
“I asked her what she knew about people like Sam, and she admitted she’d dated one. Do you want some Aspie chaser toying with his emotions?”
They continue to argue back and forth. The ugliness of their actions and the volume of thei
r voices increases. Hearing what she said to Delta makes me sick to my stomach. No wonder she left. I would’ve, too. Anger rises inside of me, and my head grows staticky. I tug at my hair.
“Sam. Don’t do that.” My mother’s voice sounds far away. Her touch is the last thing I want. I jerk away when she rubs my arm. I flap my fingers. It’s been a long time since I was this triggered. The intense feeling of helplessness, coupled with my outrage at my mother’s behavior on top of being overextended from socializing, has me at a tipping point.
“Can’t you see you’re making things worse? You’re agitating him.”
I pace back and forth, trying to regain my peace. There’s too much noise, too much emotion, too much everything.
“We can’t let him be seen like this,” Mother hisses.
“You think that’s our biggest concern?” my father yells.
“Keep your voice down, Harrison.”
I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
“It’s okay, son. Everything will be fine.” I’m caught in a storm I can’t navigate. I continue to pace and snap, trying to sink deeper into the sensations I’m familiar and comfortable with. I’m vaguely aware of the door closing.
“Sam.” Her voice is a soothing balm amid chaos. Small hands grip my forearms. “Sam. I’m here. Feel my hands on your arms. Listen to my voice. Breathe with me.”
She places one of my hands onto her chest. The steady beat and her exaggerated breaths help me navigate out of the roaring storm inside of my brain. I focus on matching her breaths. In and out. I inhale deeply, bringing her now familiar citrus sunshine into my nostrils.
“Breathe with me. Like that. In and out for counts of four. From the belly.”
Little by little, I return to myself. I blink and see her face.
“Hey. You back with me?” she whispers.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just left. Once I thought about it, I-I came back.”
I lean down and press my forehead to hers. She wraps her arms around me, and I pull her body to mine. Her warmth seeps into me. I tighten my grip, fighting against the desire to fade away once more.
“This was a bad one, huh?”
I nod.
“That was amazing.”
I turn my head to see my father. “Dad, I don’t want to see Mom again tonight.”