Page 111 of Serpentine

“I bet she’s drawn to you because of who you are when you let the bullshit drop. When you’re the most you, I bet she could see you at your worst and not shy away. The people who are worthy of being in your life will love you for you. This diagnosis will help you understand your autism on a broad spectrum, but you’re still going to be Braxton. You’re still going to have quirks that are specific to you.”

I turn toward the doctor, squeezing over Aella’s hand again. “I want to do the testing and have the diagnosis. For me.”

He nods. “I’ll get all the paperwork done, and we can do our portion together next week. The secretary can schedule that time slot on your way out. Sound good?”

I nod as he gathers a few things, makes a file folder, and hands it to me. I give it to Aella to put into the backpack on her back.

She does so silently.

“I’ll see you next week, Braxton. I’m proud of you for making this step. It’s a very hard one. You’re stronger than you realize.”

Feeling smaller than I should as I tower over the small doctor, I shake his hand and thank him. As Aella schedules my next appointment for testing, I rock on my heels as the entire day comes crashing over me like a wave of bricks landing on my flesh.

I barely make it outside before my chest feels tight.

I get on the bike borrowed from the shop and bring it to life, staring forward as Aella climbs behind me.

“Hang on, Bambi,” I grumble before speeding off from the parking lot of the medical park, the wind rustling around us and making Aella scream with trepidation. I can’t think about it, though. I need an outlet.

I need speed.

I need the wind to beat the thrum from in my veins.

Today was a lot.

I need this.

“Brax!” Aella shouts, and I gas it. Her screams fade into the passing wind, and a buzz sets into my veins, drowning some of the overstimulation from within. “Slow down!”

I’m still speeding down road after road, and I passed the clubhouse thirty minutes ago. Now we’re barreling down a gravel road. One that leads to an old abandoned cabin Miles and I found when we were kids.

We subsequently bought and fixed it up when we made a sizable sum of money from our first jobs as Cobras.

“Brax! Where are we going?” Aella screams over the surrounding wind.

I can’t answer. I’m still reeling.

When we come to a stop before the cabin, the motion light ticks on. The surrounding woods are thick, and the night is black around us. The stars are so apparent from here, but I don’t take even a moment to look at them.

I lift her off the bike, throwing her over my shoulder.

She squeals. “What are you doing? You’ve finally snapped! I swear to God, Braxton, if you don’t put me down!”

Bounding up the porch steps, which Miles and I rebuilt with our own hands at the ages of 17 and 18, then drop her onto the railing.

She huffs at me. “What the fuck?”

She tries to fix her hair, but there’s no cure for what the wind has done to it.

“You said to put you down.” It’s the first time I’ve spoken since the doctor’s office nearly two hours ago, and it feels jarring.

She purses her lips as I press her thighs open and step in between her legs. Her breathing flounders as I lean over her face.

“Brax,” she whines, unable to help how she responds to me, and I love it. It’s just what I need.

She’s become my body’s outlet to bring me back to reality. She’s also become a pretty gnarly addiction.

But I’m actively ignoring the second realization.