Chapter 7 #2
“The same reason it bothers most people I tell. They didn’t appreciate how easily I could invade their privacy, uncover their secrets.
” I clear my throat as I try to push away the memories of the beatings I suffered.
“When I was a child, I didn’t know there was something different about me or how much trouble I’d get into by being honest. On more than one occasion, my parents would host a large feast or celebration.
They’d tell a guest one thing, and I’d contradict them, revealing their thoughts aloud. ”
She chuckles at this. “That’s adorable.”
“It was not,” I reply stiffly.
Her face falls at my tone, but I press on.
“It took a long time to understand the difference between spoken words and thoughts, especially since I would hear them at the same volume. Now I can close my mind off enough to turn the thoughts of others into a muffled sound, but it can be difficult in large crowds.”
“Wait. Have you been reading my thoughts?”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t easy to block them at first. You broadcast quite loudly. In the brew shop, for instance.”
Scarlet creeps up her neck.
“But I haven’t since, and I won’t if that’s what you want.”
She chews on the inside of her cheek as she considers this. “Yeah, I’d prefer to keep that door closed, if you don’t mind.”
“Not a problem.” My body feels heavy, as if I’m walking through thick mud.
I need to get through this and be done with it.
“Anyway, it didn’t matter how much control I had over it.
I revolted and embarrassed them. When I grew too large to accept a beating without fighting back, they cut me out of the family, and I found my way here. ”
“Hey Akkal,” June calls out. My son has wandered a significant distance ahead of us at this point.
“Come on back, bud.” He follows her command and runs a circle around us singing and dancing with his warrior toy.
Then she presses a hand against her chest. “I can’t believe they treated you that way.
Their own son.” She gazes at something in the distance. “That level of cruelty makes me sick.”
I heave a sigh, surprisingly thankful she now knows my secret. “It’s not uncommon among royals with children who are different.”
She wraps her fingers around my wrist, her eyes twinkling with glee. “But different is the whole point! People who are different make life interesting. They give you brand-new perspectives.”
We resume walking, Akkal’s arms wrapped around my thigh and his two feet land atop my larger one. It’s not so much a walk for me as it is a stagger, but June doesn’t seem to mind my slower pace.
“The daycare where I worked had several kids on the autism spectrum, and they were my favorites to spend time with.” I notice a wistfulness in her expression, and it spreads warmth through my chest. “We get so used to processing information one way, you know? Seeing the world around us only one way. Then someone with autism walks in with their deep focus, exceptional memory, and radically authentic soul, and it shakes the foundation. You see things differently. Especially when they’re kids because, at least where I’m from, there’s an inherent lack of honesty in adulthood.
And don’t get me wrong, I’m not proposing we go around telling people their clothes are ugly and their ambitions are impossible to reach, but being around brutally honest kids is refreshing. ”
“What is autism?” I ask, curious about these humans with their own special abilities.
She shrugs. “It just means your brain works differently than others.”
Interesting. A pang of longing grows within my gut at the prospect of going to Earth and being seen as someone special because my brain works differently. Or perhaps the daycare was just lucky to have an empathetic employee like June on their staff.
Across the street, we spot the two orange idiots walking around in their white guard suits. “Beware,” I say quietly to June. “We’re being observed.”
She pokes her head around me and rolls her eyes at the sight of them. They notice us a moment later, and without discussing it, we wrap our arms around each other, smile, and wave at them, pretending to be a happy family.
Through her teeth, June says, “Yeah, go fuck yourselves, you giant skintags,” and I have to turn away to laugh.
We make it to the frozen stick stand, and I order one for each of us. This is June’s first time trying the iconic island treat, and the moan of pleasure she lets out when her tongue runs along the length of it has my cock rising to attention.
“Oh wow, this tastes like pineapple,” she says, now wrapping her lips around the tip and making an obscene sucking noise. “So good.”
Ficq me. This female is going to make me spend in my pants in public.
As she finishes her stick, she spots a group of local females gathered around a table eating maxifusi wraps.
I recognize them from around town but don’t know any of their names.
“I should go say hi and introduce myself.” She looks eager and excited as she runs her fingers through the purple ends of her hair and smooths out the flowing linen dress swirling around her ankles.
I give her a nod of encouragement as she scurries toward them.
They’re seated far enough away I can’t hear every word being uttered but still close enough I can read the interaction in a general sense.
With this many people around, I keep their thoughts blocked out completely.
June’s smile is bright, and her face animated as she speaks.
I see a few of them exchange glances as they continue eating.
One of them—the female with dark hair, slim hips, and reptilian eyes—says something in response to June, but I don’t catch the words. What is unmistakable is the light it stole from June’s eyes. Her expression tightens, but she recovers quickly with a grin that takes effort to hold.
Then I hear, “murderer,” uttered as June walks away. I can tell she hears it too, and my blood boils. Another says, “qyunta villekt,” which means king slayer, at a slightly higher volume, and I hope with my entire body June doesn’t know much slang in the universal tongue.
“How did it go?” I ask when she reaches us, knowing the answer but not wanting to acknowledge I witnessed the mistreatment.
“Oh, great. Yeah.” She’s nodding, but it’s jerky and overcompensating. “I’m sure I’ll see them soon.”
She remains silent the rest of the walk back home, and I don’t need to read her mind to see how much pain she’s wading through.
It’s written all over her face. I’m not sure how to handle this.
If she wants to move on as if it never happened, I should give her that chance, yes?
Or should I be honest and tell her I heard everything?
Ultimately, I decide not to bring it up. I’ve been on the receiving end of my fair share of mockery and sometimes verbally acknowledging it makes it worse. Perhaps she just wants to forget. For now, I will remind her in subtle ways that Akkal and I will be her friends for as long as she wants us.