wandered in later, we forged a silent pact not to tell him about my hot Grindr encounter. At least not yet.
When I got home after a long evening spent grading essays and writing out lesson plans, I checked Grindr again, pulling up my message history with HelpingHands. He hadn't blocked me yet, but he also hadn't sent anything else.
I started to write "I had a good time the other night" three separate times, deleting it in a mad rush before I could hit send. I needed to just delete the app, or at least that account, but I couldn't force myself to do it.
Instead, I just closed it down and spent the rest of the night fantasizing about what could have been.
10
Reuben
"We're just going to watch."
I'd pulled my car into the Horizon parking lot ten minutes ago and had spent the majority of that time trying to reassure my nephew.
"Just going to watch," I told him again, "I promise."
"And you can't break a promise."
"That's right."
I wanted to add that if he decided he'd rather join in than just watch, he could do that too, but I didn't want to make him feel like I was pushing for it. This really was just a test run to see how they played, what the other players were like, and whether or not the DM would support David's preferred way of playing the game.
I'd talked to the Director a few days ago, and she'd assured me that there was room for David at this program. Several of the other participants fell somewhere on the spectrum, and she'd said it wasn't at all uncommon for the players to fixate on the rules. The DM who ran these games, Elliot, apparently had the patience of ten saints and plenty of experience running a D&D campaign with all types of players.
I'd been hopeful about it when I got off the phone with her. Then I'd talked to David, and he'd immediately shut it down. I understood why. He didn't want a repeat of what happened at the comics store. After talking about it, I was able to get him to consider it, after which we moved to the compromise stage where he said he'd go, but only to watch.
I figured that was where we were going to stay for a while, and I was fine with it. Watching would be good for both of us. Maybe I could pick up some things in person that I couldn't get from the rulebooks or from watching seasoned professionals play on a tiny screen.
Opening up the car door, I stepped out and waited for David. He had his headphones with him, though they were still around his neck. These days he took them everywhere in case there was just too much going on. They seemed to help, and I would sure as shit fight anybody who tried to tell him he was "rude" for wearing them indoors.
Hopefully, that wouldn't be an issue here.
Looking up at the building with its nice, pleasant landscaping, tinted windows to protect from the sun, and a sign that looked pretty outdated -- and honestly geared toward much younger kids, with that hand-painted look -- I started to feel nervous. What if this place wasn't a good fit? Just because they had autistic kids here didn't mean they knew how to accommodate every kid with autism. That was one of the things the family counselor had drilled into me and Ruth. There wasn't a "one size fits all" solution. David was his own person with his own triggers and his own way of coping. We needed to work with him to find those things and help him in the most supportive way possible.
I wondered what she'd think of this but decided not to dwell on it too long.
"You ready, bud?" I asked, calling over my shoulder.
David looked up at me, then nodded, a look of determination on his face. I opened the door and held it for him to come in, at which point we were immediately greeted by a big, circular desk with lots of literature around it.
"Hello, have you been here before?" a young woman asked, smiling at David and I.
"Uh, no. I called earlier in the week. They said we could spectate the Dungeons & Dragons game?"
"Oh, of course." She pushed her rolling chair away from the desk and came around to show us toward a side door. "It's through here, allllll the way down the hall, last door on the left.