“Hello, Jace. And call me Susan. Aidan is in the library.” Her gaze drops to the reusable shopping bag slung over my shoulder.
“I brought a few games my nephew enjoyed at that age. Since I’m a stranger, I figured he’d feel more comfortable if we had an activity or two.” Conversations with new people can be difficult for kids on the spectrum, so an activity will help. At least I know Aidan is verbal. There’s extensive training for buddies who are paired with nonverbal kids.
Her smile brightens. “Yes, that’s an excellent idea. We had some activities prepared, but I think this is better.”
I follow her inside and down a hall until we stop just outside the library. The wall is lined with windows on the top half, and I can see a dark-haired little boy sitting at a small table. He’s staring at a spot on the wall and running the zipper up and down on his sweatshirt. Two women are talking behind the librarian’s desk, next to a stack of fake presents that probably have been owned by the school since the ’80s. There are several holiday displays on top of the five-foot-tall bookshelves. One is a twelve-inch pink Christmas tree with silver and hot pink paper clips for decorations, and another is a Hanukkah display featuring a menorah with a few dreidels scattered around it. But it’s the foot-and-a-half-tall Santa surrounded by smaller elves that catches my eye. It looks like some older kids have made a few alterations. Santa is holding two dreidels in his hand like they’re craps dice, and a couple of elves have Monopoly money in their hands as if they’re placing bets.
“Aidan’s nervous,” Susan says. “His teacher, Ms. Liu, is going to introduce you. She’ll leave soon afterward if Aidan feels comfortable. He knows you’re coming, but he’s anxious.”
“Understandable,” I say. I’m nervous too, but I don’t admit it.
She opens the door and motions for me to enter.
The little boy’s dark eyes flit to me, but he looks away quickly. One of the women behind the desk glances up at me. She’s young, probably younger than I am, and the look in her eyes goes from friendly to speculative as she walks over. “Hi, I’m Rebecca Liu. I take it you’re Jace, Aidan’s new buddy?”
“Jace Hagan,” I say, offering my hand.
She shakes it, and I notice her gaze lingering on my bicep, but then her cheeks flush, and she says, “Aidan is a little anxious.”
“No worries,” I say, shifting my focus to him. He’s staring off into the distance, but Susan is watching me. She’s taken a seat next to the librarian’s desk. I feel like Aidan and I are in a fish tank at an aquarium, and I can’t help thinking it will make him more nervous.
Ms. Liu has turned her attention to my new friend. “Aidan, this is Mr. Jace. He’s come to hang out with you for a bit.”
Aidan glances up at me as if I’m an algebra equation he’s supposed to solve.
“Can I sit with you?” I ask, motioning to the chair across from him.
He nods, then resumes working his zipper and peers down at the table.
I pull out the chair and realize my legs won’t fit well under the table, so I spread them wide as I scoot closer and set my bag on the floor. “I thought we could play some games today while we get to know each other.”
His gaze lifts to my mouth. “Can we play Minecraft?”
“Not today,” I say. “We’ll have to ask your mom about that. I don’t want to break any of her rules.” I know some parents don’t want their kids to play video games, and the last thing I want to do is alienate his mother.
“But we’re at school,” he says matter-of-factly. “We’re supposed to follow school rules.”
“That is true,” I say. “But I didn’t bring Minecraft. I brought some other games. We’ll see about next time.”
He doesn’t respond.
I pull out a box from my bag and set it on the table. “This is a matching game. Can you help me get it out and set it up?”
He nods, but he’s still messing with his zipper, not that I’m surprised. I’m a pretty big guy—a stranger at that—and he’s pretty small. I consider the fact that he’s still sitting here a win.
We take the cards out of the box, and he helps me turn them over, using one hand. I start to explain the rules to him, but he says, “I know how to play this game.”
“Then how about you tell me the rules?” I suggest.
He looks at me in surprise. “But you’re a grown up. You’re supposed to know the rules.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“You turn the cards over and match them,” he says.
“What happens if you get a match?” I ask.
“Then you get another turn. And if you don’t, it’s my turn.”
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s play. You go first.”
He turns over two cards—a little girl with braids and an old woman with salt-and-pepper hair—then turns them back over. “Your turn.”
“Thank you,” I say, then turn over two cards. A man with a bald head and glasses and a little boy with freckles. “Do you remember my name?” I ask as I turn them back over.
He looks at me like I’m an idiot. “You’re Mr. Jace. Ms. Liu told me five times that you were coming today.”
“And you’re Aidan,” I say as he takes his turn. “Ms. Duckworth told me three times I was coming to see you.” I motion toward the older woman, but Aidan doesn’t turn to look.
“Is she your teacher?” he asks as he flips his unmatched cards back over.
“No,” I say. I almost tell him she’s my boss, but I worry about how his brain will interpret that. The last thing I want him to think is that he’s my job. “She’s my friend. She thought you and I would make good friends.”
“Why?”
Shit. That question could be a minefield. “Because I need a friend, and she thought maybe you did too.”
He studies the game, saying idly, “I don’t have any friends. I just moved here, and Mom says it takes time to make new friends.” He looks up at me. “Do you know how long it takes?”
I’ve known this kid for about five minutes, and he’s already melting my heart.
“Are we friends yet?” I ask.
“You brought me a game to play.”
“And I brought another one we can try after this one. So, are we friends?”
He scrutinizes me, or rather the shoulder of my shirt, for a long moment. “Friends play together.”
“They do.”
“Then I think we are friends.”
I smile, then look at the clock on the wall behind him. “It took us six minutes to become friends. It usually takes me a lot longer.”
He glances down. “Me too.”
“There’s nothing wrong with taking your time when it comes to making friends,” I say as I go through the motions with the game. No match. “But every now and then, you meet someone, and you just know you’ll be friends.”
Aidan’s hand drops from his zipper, and he gives me a shy smile. “Like me and you.”
I smile. “Just like you and me. Those are the best kinds of friends.”
He turns over two cards, revealing two images of the same man in a suit. “I have a match.”