“You have to pick one,” Dominic says from behind me. “You can’t give him a choice.”
“A bear,” I say.
Ben turns and grabs a crayon.
Oh, Ben. Oh, Dom. This isn’t fair. This shouldn’t have happened to either of you. I’m sorry. I’m so—
“Autism,” Dominic says before I can ask. He says it in a quiet voice, one with an air of acceptance and challenge, as if he expects me to say something to the contrary. “High-functioning. Diagnosed a few months ago. Explained a lot when we finally heard what it was.”
I wonder who “we” is, but don’t ask. Not yet. “I thought as much,” I say.
“Oh?”
“They thought I had it too. When I was three or four.”
“You never told me that.” I can hear the surprise in his voice.
I shrug, but still don’t look at him. “Didn’t seem important.”
“Julie?” he asks.
“She thought something was wrong with me,” I say, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “I talked about strange stuff. I could list off dozens of constellations.” I remember something Dominic said before I knew who Ben was. “I had to have my routines.”
“It wasn’t, though?”
“No. There was no real explanation for my weirdness.”
“Ben’s not weird,” Dominic says coolly.
I turn to look at him and see the anger on his face. I instantly feel like shit. “That’s not what I meant. I was just saying that about me.”
He watches me for a moment before he nods and looks away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “It’s been tough.”
“He has his routines, too, huh?”
“Yeah. Everything has a specific place. Everything has a specific time. Everything has to be done in a specific way.”
I look back down at Ben. The bear he’s drawing is better than anything I could hope to draw, down to the tiniest details: the fur, the claws on its feet that are the same color as the nose.
“Ursidae,” I hear Ben mutter.
I look back up at Dom, a question in my eyes.
“Scientific name for bears,” he says. “You had constellations, he has his animals. He can name quite a few. He learned Bear first, though. Because of your brother. And Otter.”
“Mustelidae,” Ben mutters.
“I didn’t know,” I say to Dominic. It almost sounds like an apology. I don’t know what else to say.
“About?”
“This. Ben. Everything.”
“I know. I made sure.”
“Why?”
“You left.”
