Chapter 2 #2
Lucas flipped him off as he took another massive bite. He’d always been a messy eater, and his ex-dad had always hated that about him. But he didn’t understand the point. It had taken him years and years to understand the concept that people could know things about him just by looking.
Even now, it was the most bizarre concept. You could just point your face at someone and know what they were wearing? Or if they had globs of delicious, delicious guacamole on their cheek?
Fucking wild.
Though he supposed he did understand it as the same concept as echolocation.
He wasn’t the most skilled at it, as his brain wasn’t wired that way.
There were days he wished he had that flavor of autism because it would make life a lot easier.
But what he could use, he assumed was something like sight.
He could tap his cane in a parking lot and get some idea of how far away a building was or how tall it stood. So…yeah. He kind of got it.
“You might want to use a napkin before we get to the house. That Oliver dude is there.”
A few months ago—hell, a few weeks ago—that might have had Lucas jumping out of his skin at the sound of Oliver’s name, but his crush was over.
It was more than over. It had been obliterated. Oliver was a new recruit to their party, and he had a very nice voice.
It was low and rumbly and reminded Lucas of Christmas spices. He laughed at Lucas’s jokes and always made sure not only to include him but to give extra descriptions of what was going on around the board since the tactile map and pieces could only provide so much information.
Lucas’s crush could be seen from outer space. And Gage, though he didn’t come around as often as he used to, was around enough to tell Lucas that he should go for it. That there was no way Oliver was doing all that to be nice.
He was hot, and so was Oliver. It would be a great match.
So, three weeks ago, he decided it was time. He was going to take the leap. The last time he’d confessed to someone, it had been Gage, and it had torn his heart almost completely in two. He’d only just started healing and feeling ready to take another risk.
This time, he wasn’t rejected to his face.
This time, he’d come around the corner with one hand on the wall, following Oliver’s voice because he was on the phone.
And he froze at the sound of Oliver’s clove-and-nutmeg voice using the R-slur.
“Yeah, I mean, call it charity or whatever. I should mark this down in case I ever need to do community service. They’d totally count that, right?
Some fucking blind autistic? You should see the way he flaps his hands, dude. ”
He didn’t stick around for the rest of what Oliver thought about him. He turned on his heel and made his way back to the table and sat. His hands didn’t so much as twitch for the rest of the night.
Everyone asked him if he was okay. Everyone pointed out he wasn’t being himself.
Especially Gage.
But he’d been too chickenshit and too humiliated to say it aloud. So he lived with the pain of knowing how his former crush had seen him, and he lived with Gage still thinking that Lucas wanted him.
“You know what? I’m feeling kind of meh. Can you take me home instead?”
“Bro. This is my one night off,” Gage whined. “Please don’t do this to me.”
“You go. You’ll have fun. You can even drop me here if you want. It’s like a thirty-minute walk and—”
“I’m not going to drop my best friend in the middle of ass-fuck nowhere and make him walk home. Fuck you.”
Lucas smiled and leaned back. “Thanks.”
Gage hummed, then shattered the moment by asking, “Is it Oliver? Something happened, didn’t it?”
Lucas bit his tongue so hard he tasted copper. He wanted to tell him so badly. It was burning a hole in his sternum. He hated keeping secrets, and he hated lying. But he also didn’t want to be the guy who ruined the harmony of their party.
He’d get over it. It wasn’t like Oliver was the first person to think of him that way, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. So why cause a stir now? He had more pressing matters in his life—like when was he going to lose his virginity?
And to whom?
And where?
“Why don’t I hang out with you,” Gage said as the car began to slow. Lucas recognized the driving pattern. They were about to turn into the parking lot of his apartment. “We can watch a movie or something.”
“Dude. Go finish the fucking campaign.” Gage was the DM for the first time in almost a year. “You worked for, like, two months on that thing. I’m going to sit here, listen to a really, really sexy audiobook, and probably pass out with my dick in my hand.”
“Why are you the worst?” Gage asked as he pulled into his usual parking space.
Lucas grinned at him. “I’m a damn delight. Now, kiss my forehead and send me off to bed.”
Gage sighed but did as he was asked, and since they were in the privacy of Gage’s car, Lucas let himself do a little hand-flapping stim. But just a small one.
“That right there,” Gage said.
Lucas froze halfway leaning down to pick up his cane. “What? Where? Is it a bug?”
“It’s you,” Gage said. “You’re…being weird.”
“I mean…yeah. That’s kind of my whole thing,” Lucas said slowly.
“No! You’re being less weird, which is more weird. You’re not stimming like you used to with your hands,” Gage said, like that somehow answered all of Lucas’s questions. When he said nothing, Gage sighed. “Oliver said something about your stimming, didn’t he?”
Lucas knew he had a totally garbage poker face. He was screwed.
“I will kill him. I will tie him to a tree and cover him in honey, and release fire ants that will—”
“Okay, whoa, Nero. No ancient Roman torture or…wherever that shit comes from,” Lucas told him quickly. He should never have convinced Gage to study history. “It’s fine, okay? He made a couple of shitty comments, and I ignored them because I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”
“Yes you do. Especially when you like them,” Gage said. “You and I almost stopped being friends because I was being an angsty, angry teenager who wasn’t careful with your heart.”
Lucas allowed himself a small laugh. “You and I both know that was for the best. You are my platonic soulmate. We didn’t need to complicate it.”
“Yes, but you can’t sit here and tell me I didn’t hurt you.”
He couldn’t. So he didn’t.
“Anyway, so honey and…ants? A boat. Some hungry sea creatures and Oliver’s tormented body that—”
“Gage. Just…leave it, okay? Everyone else likes him, and they’ll probably have a better time if I’m not there.”
“I won’t.”
“Yes you will. Go have weird tentacle sex with a Mindflayer and call me when you’re done,” Lucas said.
He didn’t give Gage time to argue with him anymore.
He swiped his cane off the ground, unfolded it and tapped the curb, then stepped out with the rest of his burrito, chips, and guac tucked under his arm. “See you.”
“Bye.”
He slammed the door and hurried toward the entrance to his corridor before Gage could change his mind and follow him inside.
Rotting alone on his couch with leftovers was hardly the worst way to end his night. Maybe it wasn’t the best, but he’d live. He’d be fine.
And someday, maybe this wouldn’t be his life.
Someday, maybe—
“Das mine.”
Lucas froze three feet into the building. A child? He didn’t live near a child. Except…oh shit, the new neighbors. He’d almost forgotten he’d heard someone moving in. Oh god help him. God save him.
“Mine,” the tiny voice said again, and then without warning, Lucas’s cane was ripped from his hand, and he hit the ground on his knees with a heavy thud.
“Elodie! Oh my god, what are you doing?” The voice was gruff and a little familiar, but Lucas had never been good with fresh voices. It usually took him several times meeting a person to recognize them.
“Is my cane. See? Dis…dis is mine.”
“I am so sorry,” the deep, rumbling voice said.
The poor bastard was out of breath, and as Lucas climbed to his feet, he heard the man wrestling with the child.
He knew tiny fingers were both quick and strong, and in spite of the fact that he’d now lost his burrito and his guac somewhere, he smiled.
“No harm.”
“Yes, but—” The man grunted, and the child let out a screech that made Lucas want to shove his head into the concrete floor. “Sorry, Jesus. Elodie, go inside right now, or I’m going to duct-tape you to the sliding door.” The man paused. “Please don’t call CPS. It’s an empty threat.”
Lucas let out a small laugh. “Help me find my dinner and we’ll call it even?”
“Sure, I—ah. Right. Hang on.” Lucas felt a tap on the back of his hand, and his cane was returned to him. Then another tap, and there was his bag of slightly squashed chips, burrito, and his guac. Nothing seemed to be compromising the thin paper sack, so he assumed nothing had spilled.
“All is forgiven,” he said. “Are you, uh…new here, or whatever?”
The guy was very, very quiet for a moment. “We moved in last week. Ellie and I live in one-oh-four.”
That was two doors over to the left, Lucas realized with a sigh of relief. No tiny toddler feet keeping him up at all hours. He could live with it.
He tucked his cane against his shoulder, then stuck out his hand. “Lucas.”
The man hesitated for a beat too long, then took his hand. “Frankie.” It had a nice ring to it, in spite of the fact that Lucas was pretty sure he was another one of those “scared of the big, contagious blindness” guys.
Would it never end?
But then he realized the man’s handshake was lingering. Was it something else? Oh god, did he still have guac on his face? He pulled his hand back and attempted to wipe at his cheeks with his sleeve before remembering he wasn’t wearing sleeves.
Wonderful.
“Anyway, see you around,” he blurted, then turned on his heel.
He managed to get to his door in time to hear the guy mutter, “Yeah. I guess so.”
The hallway was silent after that, and when Lucas was certain he was alone, he shoved his key into the lock and stepped into his little sanctuary. Thank fuck.
But it was in that moment of stillness and silence he realized that he could still feel the impression of the man’s hand. And like his voice, it was oddly, inexplicably, familiar.