‘…I can’t be who you want me to be.’

At first, she gave no response. She probably hadn’t expected that answer. Maybe the thought of rejection hadn’t even crossed her mind, and in her own planned version of the conversation Jack was supposed to say yes. They were close friends after all, weren’t they?

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, not quite offended but certainly hurt.

‘I’ll never have a girlfriend, Gracie. Or a boyfriend. Or anyone. It’s my fault, not yours. There’s something up with my brain, and not just autism. It means I can’t find people attractive. Even pretty people… or people I really care about. And I do care about you. Honestly, I do. But if you can’t have me as just a friend then you can’t have me at all. I’m sorry… I don’t get to have a say in this. It’s my brain. My soul truly cares about you, but my brain doesn’t… well, you know. I’m sorry.’

Gracie gave no words in return. Her breathing got louder and more erratic, and the mattress rose underneath Jack, revealing that she had stood up. One creak of the door later, the room fell silent.

Well bloody played, Jack. The one person who will ever want to go out with a weird kid like you , and you broke her heart as punishment for asking.

Then again, thought the other side of his brain, not telling her would have hurt her more in the long run. Whichever way I chose it was going to be wrong, but at least I chose the lesser evil.

It was the type of thought train that could have occupied his brain for the entire night if he had not been interrupted. But a moment later, Simon completed the set of interrupters by bursting into the room.

Finally, after holding himself together so well through the evening, Jack ran out of patience.

‘Oh, bloody burning balls of crap,’ Jack snarled, far too loudly, ‘is there anyone else behind you in the bloody queue, Simon? A hedgehog with a poorly foot that only I can look after? Or a fox wanting career advice or something? Do I have to declare “base” before people respect that my day is over and I’m in bed now?!’

The silence was predictable, and horrible.

But it was quiet enough for a different voice to enter Jack’s head: one he had not heard in its physical form since he was twelve.

Jack, said a voice in his mind that reminded him of his mother, if that had truly been what she had sounded like. It’s because they rely on you. Don’t you get it? You’re valuedhere, and sometimes being valued is hard.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. It made little difference to his vision, but it helped him to focus the chaos in his head.