During the whole school day Emily felt like she needed to play catch-up for the work she missed the day before. She hated the slightly frantic feeling it gave her, but it kept her so occupied that she didn't even notice Evan hadn't texted that morning. But once she got out of school and realized that he neglected to reach out, a new emotion overtook her - worry.

He's probably just busy...

She rationalized silently to herself and tried to focus on her reading. But her mind strayed from the page in front of her eyes. She looked out of the window as the bus drove over the bridge.

I basically hung up on him last night... Maybe he's offended...

Emily turned her phone over and over again in her hand and contemplated whether she should text him or call him. She watched the water two hundred and twenty-eight feet beneath her.

Maybe Evan isn't going to talk to me again...

It felt as though her stomach dropped down to the ocean below and slammed into it like concrete.

Then she made up her mind to scroll through her music to try to figure out what song to send him. The search for the perfect song began as she got off the bus and continued while walked the ten blocks to the elementary school.

While she waited by the side doors of the building, she listened to Audio Bullys "Get Myself on Track" and thought about sending it to Evan. Reading the lyrics helped her avoid eye contact or chit-chat with the assembled parents and grandparents that waited for the other eight-year-olds.

Soon, Janine emerged from Girl Scouts waving a yarn potholder and calling out, "Look what I made today!"

Emily put away her phone to give her young charge attention. "Wow, look at those colors! I bet your Mom is going to love it!"

"I made this one for you. I have another one in my bag for my Mom." Janine skipped alongside Emily.

"I'm honored. I'll use it the next time I cook."

The tiny girl put her hand into Emily's as they crossed the street. She let Janine's childish chatter silence the self-doubts that had been a monotonous drone in her head for the past hour.

~~~

"You gave me too much money." Emily held out one of the $20 bills.

Mrs. Flynn shook her head. "No please take it Emily. I know you have to leave early for your doctor's appointment, but consider it as thanks for all of the extra minutes here and there that I haven't paid you for over the course of the year."

I didn't like scheduling my therapy on a Thursday this week... But checking in with Dr. Guevarra is very important for me... Especially with everything that happened the past two weeks...

"Okay. Thanks." Emily pocketed the bills. The extra cash made her feel less guilty about spending money on the car service that waited on the curb for her.

~~~

"So have you told either of your parents about the camp program yet?" Dr. Guevarra didn't waste time delving directly into her problems.

Emily shifted on the leather couch to peel one of her sticky legs up with a sound like ripping paper. "Ummmm no. But I did tell my Pop."

The doctor looked at Emily with a mild expression on her face. "Well that's progress." She looked back down at her notes. I see the deadline is approaching. I'm sure you need to get paperwork signed as well as send in a deposit of some sort."

Emily nodded and Dr. Guevarra continued, "So if you really want to go to this camp then I suggest you broach the subject with your parents. But I wonder if you're stalling on this because maybe you don't feel ready to go away? It would be natural under the circumstances for you to be nervous. Maybe we should investigate that a bit more?"

Emily's stomach twisted uncomfortably. "Of course I'm nervous. But I've been pushing myself out of my comfort zone more lately. I went to my Dad's house the last two weekends. I made up with my brother. I'm even kind of dating a couple boys." She bit at her cuticle.

Dr. Guevarra's eyebrows and voice rose when she said, "I'm impressed! That's a lot of change since we met last month. How are you handling it all? Any panic attacks or meltdowns?"

Emily ceased gnawing at her skin to answer, "A couple. They only got to the early stages before I was able to fight them off using some of the strategies you taught me. But I did have a really bad migraine yesterday and I had to leave school early."

"I see. What do you think brought that on?" The doctor scratched at her notepad.

Emily sighed. "Well my best friend started dating this boy I had a crush on and his friend drove us to school. It wasn't my usual routine and I was so embarrassed to be in the car. Then the driver, Peter, was really rude to me. I didn't know what to do. It was all too much happening before eight in the morning."

Dr. Guevarra sipped at her mug of tea. "Sounds like it. This Peter that drove you to school... is he one of the boys you're dating?"

"No! Not at all! Those boys are in Jersey. One is my brother's best friend and one lives next door to my Dad. I know it sounds like a sitcom or something when I say it out loud." Emily shook her head.

The doctor chuckled. "Maybe a bit. I wonder if you've thought about whether or not you picked these boys to date because they are far away, and that makes it easier for you to avoid any real emotional connection or relationship compromise?"

The water bottle crinkled in Emily's hand. She twisted the cap off and on, but didn't take a drink. "I think that was part of it initially. It seemed like a good way to ease into dating. But it's harder than I thought it was going to be. My feelings are all jumbled up and I don't know.... I think I made things more complicated for myself because I can't work out my emotions from so far away. And if I really do like one of these boys enough to exclusively date him. Which I think I might. Well, that makes a whole new set of problems for me. Don't I have enough problems already?" She stopped to sip her water and let the whirring of the white-noise machine fill her brain.

Dr. Guevarra cleared her throat and began, "Change is scary but it is inevitable Emily. And we've gone over the two basic reactions that you have to things that upset or scare you."

Emily interrupted, "Fight or flight. It's not healthy to lash out and it's not healthy to run away from things." She knew the words well after working with her psychiatrist for the past seven years.

"You need to communicate honestly with the people in your life. Remember, part of your diagnosis means you struggle with theory of mind. You've improved tremendously with time, especially after getting involved in dramatic studies and music. But it will always be a bit of a struggle for you to decipher other people's emotions and intentions. So instead of trying to guess what someone else is thinking and making yourself anxious you should just ask them how they feel and what they mean when you feel confused."

Emily bit her cuticle and it began to bleed. She pulled a tissue from the box on the coffee table to staunch flow.

"I can't predict or control other people's feelings or actions," she repeated the words that had been told to her countless times.

She focused on the colors of the book spines on the shelves behind her doctor's head and mentally rearranged them into a more pleasing pattern in her brain.

The doctor called Emily's attention back to the present. "So tell me more about these boys that you are involved with," she suggested.

~~~

A feeling of ease usually accompanied Emily as she left Dr. Guevarra's office, however fleeting it was. She always savored the mental quietude and imagined that was how other people felt all the time. But today, the burden of her anxiety still weighed her down. One specific problem bothered her more than the others. Emily pulled out her phone to check for messages.

Nothing...

She decided to walk home along Shore Road. It would take longer, but was devoid of stores. The evening sweltered and the businesses along Third Avenue had their garbage bags at the curb already.

The smell of hot trash isn't something I can stomach right now. Plus, I need some time alone and I'm less likely to run into anyone on a less busy street...

Emily crossed over the blacktop to walk along the hexagonal pavers on the other side. The sound of traffic on the Belt Parkway below reminded her of the pleasant fuzzy noise of the machine in Dr. Guevarra's office. She listened to it and tried to block out the disagreeable doubts that seeped into her mind. Her eyes focused on the grey stones beneath her feet and trailed along the patterns of lines. She enjoyed the feel of the uneven stones under her moccasins.

Step on a crack, break your mother's back... When I was little I believed it was true... The saying terrified me...

One day, when Maggie had tried to take young Emily for a walk on Shore Road, it resulted in a massive meltdown. She cried hysterically because the cracks were impossible to avoid and she couldn't bear the thought of hurting her mom. Emily's screams were piercing. People looked out of their windows and asked Maggie if her daughter was okay or if she needed them to call 911.

Her mother politely declined their offers and turned her attention to the writhing, pigtailed mess in her arms. "It's just a saying Emily. It's not true." But Emily still clung fiercely to her mother's neck and sobbed.

After what seemed like an eternity, she was able to form words again. "Why do people say it if it isn't true?"

Maggie stroked her back. "It's part of a silly game. That's all."

Emily's lip quivered and snot ran from her nose. "I don't think it is fun to hurt someone! It sounds like a terrible game!"

It's one of my earliest memories... I was three years old...

It took Emily a very long time to understand that people often said things they didn't mean. Sometimes the girls in her grammar school said they liked her clothes when they didn't. The girls also played games of pretend that were harder for Emily to understand.

It was all completely confusing at the time...

So instead, Emily played with the boys at recess. They were much more straightforward. Their games had clear rules. You raced and there was a winner, or you tagged someone and they were "it."

But then things started to change with puberty...

The girls liked her even less because she was "friends" with the boys that they had crushes on. And suddenly, the boys didn't want to play with her because they worried about accidentally hurting her or touching her the wrong way. Emily felt like she didn't fit in anywhere and was silently miserable.

Then she started getting migraines and having panic attacks nearly everyday. They were sudden, scary and debilitating. Emily thought she was having an aneurysm when she had her first migraine during a math class. She couldn't see the problems on the whiteboard through the giant blind spots in her vision. She asked to go to the school nurse's office. Terrified, she climbed the stairs on her hands and knees because her vision was so disturbed she was certain she would trip and fall.

Her newfound medical issues made her miss a lot of school that year and cemented her status as class outsider. Emily wasn't bullied. She was never targeted, but rather quietly forgotten and left out. So she retreated further into her academic work and her books. And with practice it felt like she didn't care that she was never invited to the parties or dances.

The more I hid myself away, the easier it got to be alone...

But her mother saw through the wall Emily put up for the world and worried that her daughter had no friends. Maggie felt the best solution was to find another school where Emily could get a fresh start.

Dr. Guevarra had been working with Emily since her parents' separation. She explained that transitioning to one school for eighth grade only to switch again for high school would likely be extremely overwhelming for Emily. Plus, Emily was too academically advanced for any of the other local grammar schools. The clear solution was to skip a grade.

Her mother went around to the high schools she was interested in, armed with samples of Emily's work, report cards and testing results, to speak with them regarding her daughter's special needs. Every school wanted Emily based on her report cards and standardized test grades alone.

But the Principal at NDA wanted to meet the person behind the papers before she agreed on accepting her application. Maggie and Emily both agreed that Notre Dame was the right place on the day they met with Sister Caruso.

Emily stopped walking to stare across the water at the island where her school was tucked among the trees. It should have been easy to find with the profusion of flowers that bloomed on campus. Yet, as she scanned the undulating green landscape Emily couldn't distinguish the riot of color that remained hidden beneath the foliage.

NDA has been good to me... Like the vegetation that surrounds the campus I've blossomed after what felt like a long barren winter...

Drama Club allowed her to study improvisation and sarcasm. Plus surrounded the way she was at her single sex school, Emily was able to observe and practice the social tricks and skills she learned on her female peers. Finally, the divide seemed to close.

I made friends... Really great friends...

However, it was discouraging that while she made progress with other girls, the gulf between her and the opposite gender grew.

"Two steps forward one step back," Emily said aloud.

This walk home isn't relaxing me the way I thought it would... I need to stop thinking... Music on, world off...

She put her earbuds in and scrolled through the tracks of Tame Impala's "Innerspeaker" album to start "Solitude is Bliss."

Admiring the soft light of dusk, green-tinted by the leaves above, she listened for a minute to the tympany of the drums and the reverb of the psychedelic voice. Then she began to walk again.

When that song ended she chose "Just a Girl" to keep moving with. No Doubt's driving beat kept her pace brisk on the winding street. She started to sweat as her pulse quickened to match her steps with Gwen Stefani's urgent voice.

Finally, Emily stood panting on her stoop with keys in hand.