"Hadley, can you do cartwheels?" a student from two of my classes...I think - I am still learning the ins and outs of my new school, as well as my new house and town to call home sweet home, and I especially had to warm up to the purple sky startling me whenever I left my home, school, or another building - said after another student in our friend group finished showing off her cartwheel. "Or can you do a different cool stunt?"

Staring at her, I remained silent for what had felt like a long, excruciating hour, when it was truly less than one minute. Thankfully, she and the rest of the small group were incredibly patient with me and gave me my space. I finally found the right words and furiously rubbed my sweaty hands together as if I were scheming. My hands looked and felt as if they were underwater for around a half an hour. No, I take it back. Water cannot make any part of my body as wet as my own smelly sweat, even if I was swimming in water for a decent amount of time.

"Uh, I do not do stunts."

A girl sitting on my left, Kindra, asked, "Worried about snapping all your bones like that you would easily do to chicken bones?"

"Kindra," the first girl said coldly, glaring at her. "If she wants to learn how to do a proper cartwheel or another stunt, we will be more than delighted to help. Please do not discourage her."

"I was not. Many people are turned off from trying neat tricks because they could accidentally dislocate or snap a bone - like their neck. I was hesitant to try cartwheels once upon a time. I was confident that I would break at least a couple bones and get a concussion from landing on top of my head. And guess what?"

"Wh—" I was cut off. Suddenly, my face was burning. If the purple sky was not blocking the bright sun like that Kindra brought up, I would have convinced myself that the beating sun was to blame for my scorched face. But it was out of embarrassment for talking when I was not supposed to. I wanted to be alone now. To curl into my ball and shut out the terrible, dull world.

"On my first cartwheel, I neither snapped a single bone nor suffered a concussion. Ever since then, I have been cartwheeling like a pro. If I can do them..." She slapped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "...so can anyone - including you. Bet that your cartwheels will be among the best."

My eyes darted down towards her warm hand covering my shoulder. I am sensitive towards certain noises and touches. I especially grow uneasy when a person whom I hardly know or do not know at all touches me. If I am not Good-Natured Hadley, I would most certainly have roughly pushed off her hand.

"Can you please stop touching me?"

Kindra immediately retracted her hand. "Sorry."

"I prefer nobody touching me until this small town and this school grow on me."

"I understand. Moving is life-changing - even if you are moving to a new home in the same neighborhood. Still, it is a stressful process that should be taken slowly."

"Why do you not go into detail about your autism so we do not accidentally make you uncomfortable?" the first girl asked.

Me being an autistic is not a shocker - except for all the intolerant folks. They think that autism all comes down to troublemakers never being told no or disciplined. So do they want to believe this because they are struggling to understand it and other mental disabilities? If this is the case, would it not be easier for everyone - especially for us autistics because we struggle with socializing - to turn on the computer or crack open the book and learn about autism? We are not asking you to be an expert or a therapist dealing in mental disabilities. We ask only a couple things. Be understanding and kind.

"Are you being kind to me only because of my autism?" I asked in a tinny voice. "Would you still be overly kind if I was normal too?"

Kindra had shifted towards me. She clutched the top of the bench and slipped her leg under the other swinging back and forth over the edge. "'Always treat others how you would like to be treated.' We are kind regardless of your disability."

"Why do you and your group want to be my friends?"

"You seem and act like a great person."

I grew silent for around the same time as the first. "Oh. You...um..."

The girls were smiling and patiently waiting for a reply.

I twisted a loose skin kissing the fingernail. "...I cannot give you a proper answer if you are staring at me."

"Oh, okay. Sorry," the first girl apologized. "Kindra and I will watch the others until you are ready."

"On second thought...can you get me water?"

"Thirsty?"

"Yeah."

"You want both of us to go?" Kindra asked.

"The trip will take less time if you go together."

"Smart idea. Come on."

They jogged out of the playground, which was near our school. They and their friends invited me to spend time with them before school was in session. I planned to sit in my first period and mindlessly doodle. I preferred to be alone. But being my kind self, I did not wish to seem cold. So I forced myself to join. Despite the small group consisting of actual people...they are respectful and fun and take no crub from others - especially if one of their own is targeted. In minutes, I would be the next target. I laid back and watched the other friends do cartwheels and other silly and ridiculous stuff.

"Hi."

From the corner of my eye, I noticed someone standing by the bench.

"My name is Emersyn."