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It’s the first day of grade 12; this day has been creeping up on me for the last 18 years; the thought of this day has given me anxiety so bad it felt like an elephant was sitting on me. But I am here now, and that is all that matters.
I walk into my homeroom class, and I see a vaguely familiar teacher, I walk past some faces that look vaguely familiar sitting in rows upon rows of desks. In the seat next to mine, I see someone sitting there chewing at his fingernails and sketching in a full sketchbook. I'd like to know what kind of stuff he can draw. I sit in my chair next to the mystery boy and ask him for his name.
“Hi, I'm Jessy. Nice to meet you, what's your name?”
“Q-Quinn…” I can tell he's not used to people talking to him.
“Quinn… I've never seen you around before. Are you new here?”
He didn't respond. After I asked him the first question he started shaking, I didn't see that until now.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you shaking?”
He didn’t respond again; he just sat there with the pads of his hands digging into his eyes. I saw a single tear drop from his face. He was crying.
I spent the rest of that class feeling guilty as ever.
After homeroom orientation, I stopped him before he left class to ask why he was crying earlier.
“Hey man, I just wanted to know if you were ok,” I ask him in a very gentle voice.
“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“It's just, I, you were crying; I didn’t want to antagonize you anymore while you were crying, so I just waited until now to ask what’s up because I didn’t know if I said something or if I freaked you out somehow-”
He interrupts me with profuse apologies.
“Oh- I’m so sorry if I made you think that, oh my god, I’m so so sorry. I definitely wasn’t crying because of anything you said, it's just, I have autism so new social situations cause me to break down sometimes. Once again, I am SO sorry if I made you think you were doing something wrong.”
“No, no, I completely understand I have ADHD, so I definitely understand your struggle with new social situations. With that said, do you want to be my study partner? Mr. Clark said that we need to have 3 pages done for next week.”
“Yeah, sure, I'd love that,” Quinn replied.
After school, we walked to my house, once we got there my mom immediately started interrogating Quinn.
“Ooooh, who's this nice-looking young man, Jessy?”
“Really, Mom? We just got here.” I rolled my eyes at her.
We went to my room without exchanging another word until we got to my room.
“What was that about Jessy?” Quinn questioned
“That was my mom being “supportive” of me.”
“What do you mean by supportive?”
I hesitated to answer Quinn's question.
“Well, usually I get to know someone before telling them this, but you seem trustworthy enough…” I lead on.
“O-oh? What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, I-I’m.. I’m gay.”
There was an awkward silence that filled the room when suddenly my mom burst through the door.
“Who wants cookies!!” my mom borderline screamed at us.