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The clock on the wall behind him ticked at a steady pace. He picked at the skin on his fingers and looked anywhere but at the woman in front of him.
“Neil, have you ever been tested for Autism?”
His eyes shot up from where he had been looking at the small glass figurine sitting on the desk off to the side. He looked up towards Betsy’s face but focused on the wall behind her, not making eye contact but looking close enough to her eyes that it seemed like he was. He felt an odd pull in his throat and moved so he was sitting on his hands, no longer picking at the skin.
“No, why would I?” He questioned. Something felt off all of the sudden, but he couldn’t place what it was. His breath hitched ever so slightly and he unconsciously started to softly rock side to side in his seat.
Betsy shifted her hands in her lap and smiled at him. “Well, I think it could be beneficial for you to look more into it. Based on what I’ve seen and the little you’ve told me, it seems like there's a good chance that you might be autistic.”
Oh. He hadn’t thought about that before. He knew a little bit about autism, had heard it mentioned offhandedly before, but he never thought about it as something that applied to him.
He quickly pulled his hands out from under his thighs, no longer picking at the skin but instead twisting his fingers about.
“I uh,” He paused, not knowing what he wanted to say but trying to form words anyways. “I’ll look into it, I guess.”
He looked over at the bookshelves across the room, cataloguing the shapes and colours of the various objects on each shelf. A small glass fox figurine, shaped so it was sitting with its tail curled around its paws, stuck out to him. The light from the ceiling fixture bounced off the glass in a way that makes tiny light flares appear in a few spots.
Neil stood up, hands still fidgeting at his front, and turned back to face Betsy.
“I’m done for today.” He was abrupt in his departure, hand already on the doorknob by the time he finished his sentence. He hadn’t noticed his need to leave until he was already acting on it.
“Okay. That’s alright,” Betsy paused, and Neil looked back in her direction as he opened the door.
“Maybe try talking to Andrew about it, if that’s something you would be comfortable with. Have a good day, Neil.” She smiled at him, and he gave her one last look before walking out and closing the door behind him.
~
When Neil reached the top of the stairs that led to the roof, the door was ever so slightly cracked open. He had known before even setting out to the roof that Andrew would be up there already, but now that he was here he was suddenly filled with a small jittery feeling. Taking a deep breath, Neil gave a small shake of his hands at his sides and pushed the door open.
Andrew’s back was to Neil, and small tendrils of smoke could be seen coming from the cigarette he was smoking. One of his hands was feeling the cold cement he was sitting on, and he was tapping his fingers along the roof in a rhythmic pattern.
Neil felt something settle inside of him.
Walking out to meet Andrew on the roof’s edge, he made his steps known. Andrew kept his back to Neil, not stopping in his finger tapping. Taking a seat next to Andrew, Neil allowed one of his legs to swing off the edge of the roof while pulling the other to his chest, resting his head on his knee. He looked Andrew’s way, scanning his face and taking in every detail he could.
“Staring,” Andrew muttered. Neil let out a small smile at the comment, continuing to take in every detail of Andrew he could.
Wrapping his arms around his leg, Neil let out a sigh. As much as he hated the concept of psychiatry and letting someone into his head, he had given Betsy’s suggestion some thought.
Being known has always been something uncomfortable to Neil, and the idea of being identifiably different even more so. He had spent so much of his life trying to blend in and stay hidden that even now that he’s Neil Josten, someone real, he didn’t know how to feel about this.
It made a lot of sense.
He had always known that there was something different about him, but between his serial killer father and spending years on the run with his abusive mother, he hadn’t had much time to dwell on it. Coming to Palmetto had seen him caught up in Exy and biding his time before his father caught up to him. He had assumed his general paranoia and penchant for secrets had been the main source of his feelings of otherness, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Being with Andrew, he’d felt almost normal, and he had pushed any other feelings away the best he could.
“What are you thinking about, Rabbit?” Andrew asked, followed by him taking a drag from his cigarette.
His voice was flat and even in a way that some of the other foxes might say was emotionless, but Neil knew otherwise. Andrew was calming to Neil, he felt like they connected in a way that no one else did. This didn’t mean that Neil always knew what Andrew meant, or what he was feeling; Andrew was the person who Neil knew the best, and he knew it was the same for Andrew.
Neil looked away from Andrew, taking in the view of campus and the setting sun. His leg swayed back and forth where it was dangling over the edge, and he took in a slow breath.
“Betsy thinks I’m autistic. It makes a lot of sense.” Neil gave his leg a small squeeze while he said it. He wasn’t nervous really, he knew not to fear Andrew’s reaction, but he didn’t completely know what to expect.
Andrew shifted, turning his body to face towards Neil while looking at him. He put out his cigarette on the cement next to him, flicking it off to the side. He let out a small hum and Neil turned to look at him, watching his hands.
“It does. I was wondering when this would come up.” Andrew looked to Neil’s arms wrapped around his leg and slowly lifted his hand to Neil’s pant leg, letting his fingers fidget with the fabric.
“It does?” Neil blurts.
“Mhmm,”
“You were wondering when this would come up?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Neil pauses, his body stopping in its movements. “How? How did you know this is something that would come up?”
Neil felt wound up, his body fizzing with a newly acquired energy. He couldn’t really place the feeling, but it seemed to settle somewhat when Andrew looked down towards his hand playing with Neil’s pant leg. His fingers gave one big tug of the fabric towards him, before tugging the fabric from side to side. Neil gave out a little huff, and found that he liked the sensation of the moving fabric on his leg.
Andrew let out a soft sigh, “It was something Betsy and I had talked about in our sessions, I told her to keep it in mind when you agreed to start seeing her.”
Neil was confused. He knew that it was likely Andrew talked about him at least somewhat in his appointments with Betsy, but why would she and Andrew talk about autism?
“What? Why would you talk about that with Betsy?” Neil moved one of his arms from where it was wrapped around his leg and slowly reached out to grab Andrew’s sleeve. His motions were slow enough that Andrew could pull away or tell Neil to stop, but he did no such thing.
He mirrored the way Andrew was tugging his pant leg with the arm of Andrew’s hoodie, one that was slightly too large for him and had Neil’s jersey number written on it. The hoodie had started off as Neil’s, but a few months ago they had stopped wearing their respective numbers almost entirely, instead wearing each other’s more and more.
Andrew scoffed at Neil’s action and unlatched his hand from the fabric he had been clinging to, reaching out to grab Neil’s hand instead. Neil let him do as he pleased, and watched as Andrew started to fidget with Neil’s fingers instead. The action was familiar, and Neil matched Andrew in playing with their fingers.
“It’s been a regular topic since I was diagnosed. I suspected you might be autistic as well and had brought up my observations to her.” Andrew looked back out towards campus, eyeing the parking lot down below. All of the foxes' cars were parked in their usual spots. The sun had set by now and a light purple covered the sky.
Neil paused, before looking up from their hands and towards Andrew. His blonde hair was tousled by the wind and Neil wanted to reach out and touch it. He was always mesmerized by how pretty Andrew was.
He took a moment to process the new information Andrew had just told him. Not only that Andrew himself was autistic, but also that he suspected Neil was too.
He nodded, mostly to himself. They were able to connect to each other in a way they both seemed unable to do with others; Neil felt the most real around Andrew, in more ways than one. Maybe this was part of the reason why?
“When did you get diagnosed?” Neil asked. He felt no resentment over Andrew not telling him, but he was curious. Was this a recent development, or had he known for longer?
“Just before winter break this past year. Betsy had brought it up after I came off the drugs the break before,” Andrew stops, seemingly in thought, “I had suspected for years but had given up on the idea.”
Neil gave some thought to the statement. It frustrated him to know that not one of the professionals Andrew had seen before Betsy had thought of him as more than the joyless monster they portrayed him as.
“Can we research more about it together? Learn more about it?” Neil questioned. This whole day felt like all these little pieces of himself and Andrew sliding into place, but it also raised so many questions.
Andrew let out a soft hum before stating a simple, “Yes.” His hand slid from where their fingers were softly fidgeting with each other’s to firmly grasp Neil’s hand. He stroked his thumb along the top of Neil’s.
Neil drew in a breath before dropping his leg from its position and moving closer to Andrew so their shoulders were pressed together. Andrew leaned into the touch.
“It scares me a little, I think,” Neil said. He watched a group of students burst from the tower’s entrance before they headed towards their car, their voices and laughter softly carrying up to the roof. The street lights were on now, and Neil watched the group's shadows dance along the pavement. “Being real.”
Andrew gave their hands a small squeeze, before turning to face him.
“Yes or no?”
Neil turned to Andrew and gave a soft smile.
“Yes,” He whispered.
Andrew’s hand came up to cup Neil’s cheek, before pulling him into a soft kiss. His lips were soft, and tasted of vanilla chapstick and cigarettes. The kiss was chaste.
Neil blinked his eyes open as Andrew pulled away and shuffled to stand. He stood up completely, and held out his hand for Neil to grab.
Neil caught his hand and brought himself to stand next to Andrew, their sides pressing together. Their hands stayed grasped together, though they didn’t look at each other.
“We’ll figure it out.” Andrew stated. He spoke the words like he always did, flat and straightforward: the truth.
Neil believed him.