Chapter 16 Andrew #2
“Do I want to know what you’re thinking about right now?” Amanda asks, tapping his wrist gently to get his attention.
“Nicki,” Andrew answers honestly.
“That’s so weird,” Amanda says, shaking her head. “Not bad weird, so don’t over think this later, okay? I’ve just never never seen anyone smile like that about Nicholas. He’s such an asshole.”
“Yeah,” Andrew laughs. “He is, right?”
“So no rose-colored glasses? You don’t think Nicholas shits rainbows? You know he’s an asshole and you still like him?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, Nicki is an asshole,” Andrew confirms, “but he’s honest. And not in that cruel way some people are where they say they’re being honest, but they’re just being mean.
Well, he was mean that first day, but in general, he’s just not concerned with what people think of him, which means he says what he means.
Do you know what a relief it is to be around someone who doesn’t make jokes, or use constant innuendo, or say one thing while meaning something else?
Whatever he says, he means. Most days, I wake up knowing that I have to mask to get through, that I’m going to spend the day dealing with things that make me uncomfortable or confuse me, and I’ve got to be ten steps ahead of everyone, so no one realizes how damn hard my brain is working, or how much stimuli I’m taking in. It’s exhausting.”
“You’ve never said. I mean, I guessed but you never told us. Why?”
“I didn’t want to. I don’t want pity, but it’s so hard to be in my brain.
Every single day from the moment I wake up until I go to bed, my brain is running.
I’m thinking and planning and trying to anticipate and navigate every single social interaction.
I’m taking in ten times more stimuli than most neurotypical people—the textures and the smells and the sounds never end.
I do everything I can to mitigate that—I eat the same things, and I dress the same, and I control everything I can because some days the smallest change is more than I can cope with.
I don’t have to do that with Nicki because he’s blunt, and he’s honest about what he wants or thinks, even when it’s selfish.
I can’t explain it, but something about Nicki makes it feel easier to be me. ”
“Andrew.”
Andrew clears his throat, scrubbing a hand over his face. His cheeks feel hot, and he wonders if that’s from the headache or the word vomit. He can’t believe he just said all that. Thank god Nicki isn’t here to hear it all. He’s not sure he’s ready to confess all of that just yet.
“He’s an asshole, but he’s not to me, not anymore. I like being around him. He makes me feel good about who I am, even when I’m not trying to be someone worth being around. I can just breathe a little easier when he’s around.”
“Shit, you really like him.”
“I mean, I said that. Or I implied it.”
“No, you like him,” Amanda utters, sniffling.
“Are you crying?”
“No,” Amanda says, most definitely crying. “I’m going to kill him if he ever hurts you.”
“He won’t,” Andrew insists, unsure why he’s so certain.
It’s too early to know for sure if things will work out, but whatever is happening between them is different than anything Andrew has ever experienced.
Maybe because they did it all backwards, getting to know each other with fake dates before it meant anything.
Whatever the reason, this thing between them is real, and the relief at being known at his worst right off the bat, of not having to mask, has him trusting Nicki in a way he’s never trusted anyone except Charlie.
Hell, even with Charlie he holds a little back, wanting—needing—to protect him, to protect all of his brothers really.
But Nicki doesn’t need Andrew to protect him.
He doesn’t need Andrew to be strong all the time or put together.
Having someone in his corner, in only his corner, feels good. Maybe it’s selfish that he likes that Nicki only cares about him, but after a lifetime of caring about everyone else, having someone put him first when he knows he can’t do that himself, lifts the burden from Andrew’s shoulders.
“So, what exactly did Nicki’s chef make for today?” Amanda asks, pulling back to swipe at her eyes.
“I’m not sure, actually.”
“You don’t know.” Amanda looks utterly shocked. “You, the man who won’t even let someone else pick out a cake for his birthday because you’re worried it’ll be wrong, let Nicholas handle this?”
“Sort of? Nicki already talked to the chef about my, you know—food stuff. He’s been making my food even with Nicki gone. He knows all the things I like and don’t like, and I guess Nicki gave him a list or something. He told me not to stress, and he’d handle it so we could have fun.”
“I need to sit down, I'm going to faint. Nicholas is being responsible. Andrew is letting someone else handle things. I’ve entered an alternative universe.”
“It’s not that surprising,” Andrew balks.
“Yes, it is. Andrew, you never let anyone help you. Ever.”
“Yes, I do,” Andrew protests. “I let Alec cook.”
“That’s because he’s a damn good cook, but aside from Alec cooking, you do everything for any get together. Holidays, birthdays, our monthly bitch and brunch. You need to be in control of every single detail all the time, sweetie.”
“I’m not that bad,” Andrew protests.
“You are,” Amanda says, “and I love you. I know you like to be in control, but I don’t think I realized why.”
Andrew taps each of his fingers against his thumb, counting to be sure he does it the same amount of times on each hand while he tries to plan his reply.
He doesn’t usually explain to people how hard things are for him.
Realizing he was autistic a few years ago was a lightbulb moment for Andrew, but it wasn’t until Jason started dating Emerson, bringing another autistic person into their family, that things changed for him.
Not immediately, or outwardly, but seeing the way Emerson doesn’t mask, sometimes by choice, and sometimes because he literally can’t, and also how he self-accommodates, has made Andrew more aware of his own behaviors and needs.
He’s not sure he even clocked how hard he masks until Emerson was around.
Sometimes he wants to let go, to stop holding so tightly to control and being what everyone needs, but then he remembers how he crashed out in the rage room, or how he’s not even sure what parts of his personality are his masking, what are the autism and what are just him, and he panics.
Which is exactly why he simply doesn’t discuss any of this usually or think about it. He dissociates and distracts.
“Have you been sleeping?” Amanda unexpectedly asks.
“Hmmm?”
“Sleeping,” she repeats. “You look exhausted.”
“I slept,” Andrew replies, because it’s not a lie. He just didn’t sleep much. Truthfully, since this thing with Nicki started, he’s been struggling to sleep, and since their mutual confessions a few days ago, things have only gotten worse.
His sleep issues have always been exasperated by stress or change, two things he’s experienced in multitudes lately, and he’s tired.
So tired. With Nicki gone, he’s had time alone to compartmentalize and plan, but where that would normally leave him calmer, he’s restless.
If he’s honest with himself, which he always is, he misses Nicki.
It’s an odd feeling since the only person Andrew has ever wanted to be around all the time is Charlie.
Even then, he sometimes needs breaks from Charlie because he’s just a lot.
While it’s still early days, he hasn’t felt that urge to escape from Nicki yet. He definitely appreciated the time to think, but now all he wants is for Nicki to be home. To be held and cuddled so he can take a nap.
“Sweetie,” Amanda starts. “If all the prep is done, you should lay down and rest. Eden and Addy won’t be here for another hour.”
“I can’t nap while you’re here, you’re a guest.”
“You can absolutely nap while I’m here. In fact, if you do, it’ll give me a chance to catch up on work.
I left my MacBook in the car and could get some things done.
Don’t know if I mentioned it but I’m working on building up a civil lawsuit for that guy who leaked the cell phone photos of you and Nicki from the office.
I know the guy got fired, but that’s not good enough. I’m going to bury him.”
“You’re kind of terrifying,” Andrew points out.
“Thanks,” Amanda smiles.
“Seriously, you don’t need to do that just for me.”
“Sweetie, not only did that asshole violate one of my clients, he violated one of my best friends. I will pursue this to the end of my abilities and then some. Don’t worry about this, let me and Nicki worry about it ok?”
Andrew feels like he should argue about letting other people handle his problems but for once he doesn’t want to. He’s exhausted, and the lack of sleep is starting to catch up with him. Maybe that’s why his head is pounding and his appetite has been weird.
“I could maybe lay down on the couch,” he says, tempted to go to his bed but knowing he would never be able to lay down there without showering and changing first, and he definitely doesn’t want to do that with Amanda. The couch is a compromise his brain will allow.
“Sounds like a plan. I’m gonna grab my Mac from the car and work in the kitchen. I’ll wake you up when Eden gets here.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I’m sure,” Amanda tells him, ushering him into the living room.
Andrew stares at the couch, the memory of him and Nicki watching a movie there just last week flashing in his brain. Moving to the exact same spot, he grabs the couch pillow, curling his arms around it and closing his eyes. Just to rest for a few minutes. That’s all. He probably won’t even sleep.
* * *