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Caitlyn awoke to the sun peeking through the gaps of the curtains. Caitlyn always felt the early morning sun to be liberating, how it lit up the sky with its dark orange arms, reminding every person on this planet that they have a fresh start. No matter how bad the day before was, the sun would always shine afterwards.
Caitlyn could hear her girlfriend’s soft, gentle breathing beside her, the indent of the bed making itself known. She turned to see Vi, ever so relaxed still in her deep slumber. There was something so intimate about letting yourself sleep next to another person. To be in a state so vulnerable, and trusting someone enough to share it. A strand of her hair covered her face like a thorn, like it was some sort of defence, protecting the rose inside.
A feeling of peace washed over Caitlyn. There were some moments where she couldn’t quite believe that this was her life. That she was waking up next to her beautiful girlfriend and she would fall asleep the very same.
As much as she wanted to stay drunk in this feeling, she turned to view her alarm clock that loomed over her bedside table. A gasp left her mouth as she saw the time to be much later than she anticipated. By now, she should've already been dressed and eating breakfast. She jumped out of bed without a second thought, urging the closet open and throwing her clothes on the empty spot of the bed.
“Cupcake…?” Vi croaked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She slowly sat up and squinted her eyes at Caitlyn.
“I woke up really late,” she answered panicky, shoving her leg through her trousers.
“Oh shit.” Vi looked at the time. “Will you make it on time?”
“I hope so,” she replied, violently tearing a hairbrush through her hair.
Once fully dressed, she rushed down the stairs to get her stuff ready and into the car. Caitlyn despised being late. If she was late then it ruined her entire day. She had a step by step routine in the morning, and missing steps meant that her day was already ruined and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet.
She shoved a protein bar in her pocket, claiming she would eat it on the way there. She barely made it in the car with a minute to spare.
For Caitlyn Kiramman, it was never a choice of what profession she would later grow up to do. Her Mother, Cassandra Kiramman, ran the most popular newspaper in Piltover, and had both a weekly physical newspaper focusing on the local news, as well as a digital news platform that focused on more long-term interests, such as culture, lifestyle and societal problems. Caitlyn’s job was writing articles for the second one. She grew up achieving A stars in English and C’s in maths and science. It was quite obvious that she would eventually end up working for her Mother’s company.
She loved her job, her brain a never-ending outlet of ideas.
All ideas had to be pitched to Cassandra, which sounded easier than it seemed. Everything Caitlyn had suggested lately, had been denied by her Mother, as being ‘too boring’.
‘Nobody’s going to read another piece about climate change, Caitlyn. We just released one last month,” Cassandra shook her head.
‘But Mother, climate change is important.’
‘So it is, but there’s only so much new information out there. We need something new. Something that’s never been done before.’
And so Caitlyn had spent the entire weekend searching for that ‘never been done before’ thing. If Caitlyn was late to the pitch meeting, she would never hear the end of it.
She managed to make it by the skin of her teeth. Nine on the dot, she parked her car and ran up the flight of stairs to Cassandra’s office, ignoring her co-workers that tried to greet her. She took a deep gulp of air, before entering the office, two minutes late.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. There was a lot of traffic,” she lied, getting out her notes.
“It’s alright,” Cassandra excused, gesturing for her to take a seat.
“So I think I’ve got a few good ideas if you'd like to hear. I looked and I don’t think they’ve been done before.”
“I’m glad you’ve been researching but there’s been a slight change in plan.”
Caitlyn bit her lip. Her Mother knows how much she hates changes in plans. Anytime there was a seating plan change in school, Cassandra would have to leave work early to pick up a distraught Caitlyn because she hadn’t planned to sit in a new seat. Cassandra would always scold her for being dramatic, but comfort her anyway.
Something must’ve shown in her face because Cassandra immediately backtracked, “I know, I know. But I got a call from someone who brought up a major issue in today’s current society that hasn’t been researched much, and I thought you’d be the best person to write about it.”
“What is it?” Caitlyn’s eyebrows pinched. She didn’t like to write about things she wasn’t passionate about. She hated reading things where the journalist clearly didn’t care about the topic they were writing about. When reading her co-workers' articles, she could clearly tell when it was a white person writing about racism.
“I don’t think I’ll explain it well, but I’ve scheduled an interview with the person today in two hours, to go over the issue.”
“And what if I don’t want to write an article on it?”
“Then we’ll talk about it. But Caitlyn?” Cassandra stopped.
“Yes?”
“I think you know the person,” Cassandra placed her glasses over her head and read the piece of paper in front of her, “Jinx Lanes.”
“Oh,” Caitlyn was taken aback, “my girlfriend’s sister.”
“Oh yes, that’s it. She seems incredibly intelligent. I’ll give you the address now.”
“I’d have much preferred if you’d told me a day ago,” Caitlyn complained, fidgeting with her hands as she tried to get over the change in plan. Every evening before bed, she’d write a rough plan on her designated notebook for the next day. Yesterday she wrote:
- Convince Mother to assign me to one of my ideas—talk about how no one’s researched them before
- Start research on the assignment
- Develop a plan for the assignment—double check with someone that it’s sufficient
- Plan interviews
Her day was definitely not going that way now, and she tried not to feel so sad about it.
“I wouldn’t have told anyone else in advance. I know you’re my daughter, Caity, but that doesn’t mean you get any special treatment,” she cited.
Caitlyn nodded and left her office. Like she didn’t already know that. Like she hadn’t been reminded of it everyday of her existence.
Caitlyn dragged herself to the address earlier than needed, and put up with the change like she put up with everything else.
—
She ended up outside a building she’d never seen before, just outside Piltover.
Caitlyn didn’t know much about Jinx’s profession, just that she worked in a school. She’d always said she wasn’t a proper teacher so Caitlyn had guessed she was a supply or an assistant, something like that.
It was a small school, smaller than most. It only had one floor, and not a lot of classrooms.
She was greeted by a kind, older woman, who told her that Ms Lanes was on the way. She played with her bracelets as she anxiously waited for her arrival. She didn’t do well when she wasn’t certain what to expect. She glanced down at her notes for the fifth time and all it said was ‘issue in today’s society’, which was no help considering there was a lot wrong in this day and age.
“Caitlyn!” a woman with long, blue braids greeted excitedly, “it’s so good to see you. Thank you so much for coming!”
“It’s no problem,” Caitlyn returned the hug, “it’s good to see you too.”
Jinx had always been nice to her when she saw her at Vi’s family meet ups. She’d never made fun of her for her awkwardness. Caitlyn still cringed at the memory of the first time she met her. Jinx had asked her a question and it’d taken her at least thirty seconds to process it and then respond.
Caitlyn followed her down the hall into her office. Being back in a school brought back memories she would really like to forget. But it was certainly very different to any schools she’d been to. For starters, the walls weren’t painted brightly, paired with fluorescent lights that would always give Caitlyn a headache. The walls were pastel and the lights were LED, but the quiet kind. Leading on to the second difference, it was completely silent. If they were walking down a corridor at her high school, you’d be able to hear loud chatter and laughing from misbehaved teenagers. It wasn’t until the third difference till she connected the pieces.
They passed a middle aged man walking the opposite way in the hallway with a young boy walking beside him. The boy was wearing bright blue ear defenders.
“Hiya, Jeff. You still up for that game later?” Jinx grinned.
“You bet,” he winked, before passing each other.
“Here we are,” Jinx said, stopping outside of a door. Inside the small room was an office chair and a desk, opposite a small, comfy chair. Glancing round the room she took note of the bean bags in the corner with a lava lamp and a box of fidgets. It was much different to any office she’d been in before. Usually they were grey with nothing but a black computer and chairs, but this actually had colour.
“You can sit down if you’d like,” Jinx smiled, offering the comfy chair. Caitlyn flushed as she realised how long she’d been standing. That was like the most basic rule, when you enter someone's office, you sit opposite them. She’d scream at herself later for missing it.
“Sorry,” she said automatically, clutching her notebook and pen like it would help her.
“You’re all good.”
She looked at the posters around the room, the one closest to her being a schedule for each hour of the day, Monday to Friday. There were discarded fidgets on the desk in front of her that Caitlyn had to awkwardly move to put her notebook down.
“Sorry about that,” Jinx said, throwing them to the side. “Forgot to tidy after the last kid.”
“No worries,” she smiled politely.
“So!” she clapped, causing Caitlyn to flinch, “did your Mom tell you much about what I said?”
“Not much. Just that this is about an ‘issue in today’s society’” she read off her notebook.
“Yeah, it’s definitely relevant right now. Like super at its peak. Massive problem,” she nodded.
“Could you tell me about the subject and what it is you’d like me to include in the article. I’m not quite sure what the subject is.”
“Right! Okay so I work at a special education school, which means anyone with learning disabilities or physical disabilities that need extra support that can’t find it in mainstream school can come here and access that support. My job is specifically making sure that each pupil that needs the support gets it. I do one to one with each pupil every other week to make sure everything's okay. The school teaches kids aged five to sixteen, and has ten or less students in each class. And I love my job. But with this job, I can see just how much these kids thrive with the support, and I can’t stop thinking about how many other people need the support, or needed it, and never got it, and will never get it because of people’s views of certain disabilities,” Jinx explained.
“And as a late diagnosed autistic woman, who dropped out of education because I never got the support I could’ve benefited from, I think it’s a really relevant important topic that should be spoken about more so more people don’t slide through the cracks. So anyways, I’ve been talking to other neurodivergent people, and I’ve always seen something in common. And that is that more women go undiagnosed than men. People used to think that it was mostly men that were autistic because more men were getting diagnosed, but it’s not because there’s more autistic men, it’s because there are more women sliding through the cracks because most research has been done on men, so people don’t notice when women portray autistic traits. So for the article I was wondering if you could write about why autistic women go undiagnosed, and female autistic traits.”
Caitlyn looked over her notes, as she’d written everything she’d said down.
“Are you sure you want me to write it—I mean—it’s just that—wouldn’t you prefer someone more—knowledgable at the subject?”
“No,” Jinx brushed off, “I’ve read your stuff and it’s amazing. I think you’ll tackle it great.”
Caitlyn wasn’t sure, but agreed to it anyway.
“So how do you want to do this?” Jinx asked.
“I’ll need to do multiple interviews with you to get information for the article. What days are best for you?”
“I can only really do Mondays and weekends. On Mondays the kids are at the leisure center, and I don’t work weekends.”
“How about every Monday, and then I’ll text you if I need more information sooner. In between our interviews I’ll do a lot of research and develop the questions that I’ll ask you. You’ll be able to read the final version before it gets published to make sure everything is how you want it. And I assure you that I will tackle this subject with grace,” Caitlyn promised.
“I know you will,” Jinx smiled, putting her faith in her.
After a few more follow up questions, Caitlyn saw herself out. On the car ride back to the office, she was already thinking about what information she needed to gather before their next interview. She would need to research double as much as she normally does because she doesn’t know much about autism. Or anything really.
The only thing she could think of was Atypical, in which she spent most of the time crushing on Casey rather than actually watching the show.
She’d never written anything for a friend before. Strangers were fine, but if she ended up doing a bad job, or accidentally saying something unintentionally ableist, then Jinx would never want to hang out with her again, and hate her for the entirety she dated Vi for.
Caitlyn sighed. Vi always said she put a lot of pressure on herself. But she couldn’t help it. This article had to be perfect, and she would make sure of it.
—
“Have you spoken with Jinx recently?” Caitlyn asked, her head resting on Vi’s shoulder as they caught up on last night's episode of Big Brother.
“It’s been a few weeks. I think we’ve both just been too busy lately. I’ll call her this weekend,” Vi replied.
“So she never mentioned…anything particularly eventful?”
“I don’t think so? Why?”
Caitlyn sat up so she could look at her.
“She’s asked me to write an article on autistic women and how they’re more likely to be undiagnosed.”
Vi’s eyes widened in surprise, “And you’re doing it?”
“I kind of don’t have a choice. I mean, it’s an interesting topic, just one that I don’t know much about,” she explained.
“Jinx is kind of a know it all when it comes to that aspect, so I’m sure you’ll be fine. Plus there’s some really good resources online that I know you’ll probably find. This will mean so much to her.”
“I know,” Caitlyn agreed. She had no idea that Jinx was autistic until today, but she could tell in the meeting just how passionate she was about this idea.
Caitlyn had to do it justice.
“You’ll do fine. I read your stuff and they’re incredible, Cupcake. If Jinx trusts you with this then she is certain that you’ll do a good job of it. And you will,” Vi reassured, as if she could read Caitlyn’s mind.
Caitlyn nodded apprehensively, laying her head back onto Vi’s shoulder.
Vi and Caitlyn had been dating for over a year now, moving in with each other quite recently. It had been a big adjustment for Caitlyn to get used to, but everything was easy with Vi. A big part of Caitlyn’s life was sticking to her plans and routines, and she’d set that boundary with Vi from the beginning. Vi, being the amazing girlfriend she is, never judged her once, telling her anything a week in advance to give her enough time to plan it. She thought moving in with her would change everything, but Vi made sure Caitlyn could still keep her old routines, just now sharing them with Vi instead.
It had been amazing so far, and she never wanted anything to change.
—
She returned the week after, this time more prepared, with resources printed out for easier access. She spent last week researching and taking notes until her fingers burned from typing for so long. She was now satisfied with her knowledge on the subject.
“So while researching, I found that getting diagnosed is based on the criteria for autism on the DSM-5. Is that correct?”
Jinx nodded.
“I have a version of it printed here, and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind going through it and explaining what each section means, as some of the language used can be quite technical and confusing, and I want anyone to be able to read this and be able to understand it,” Caitlyn suggested.
“‘Course,” Jinx takes the piece of paper and examines it. “Section A1: deficits in social-emotional reciprocity. This basically means struggling with socialising. They may struggle starting a conversation and then keeping it going. Or struggling with small talk and coming across as rude or awkward during conversations. That sort of stuff. And then A2 is the nonverbal aspect in conversation. So making too much eye contact or not enough. Using too many hand gestures or not enough. Using the ‘wrong’ facial expressions or body language, and then not recognizing what other people’s body language means. And then A3 is the consequence of having a lack of social skills. Finding it difficult to make friends and keep them. Not taking an interest in socialising with your peers. Not understanding social norms.”
Caitlyn scribbled notes in her notebook.
“And…neurotypical people don’t struggle with those things?”
“Not the ones I know,” Jinx shrugged.
Caitlyn bit her nail and urged Jinx to continue.
“Then in section B, you only need to meet the criteria for two out of the four sections to be diagnosed. B1 is what the community calls ‘stimming’; repetitive movements, objects or speech. This could be hand flapping, rocking back and forth, repeating quotes from tv shows or from other people, known as echolalia, or fidgeting. Anything repetitive really. And then B2 is the insistence on sameness, routines and patterns. Being rigid and specific about routines, and then becoming upset if they change. It could include creating rules in your head that you have to follow, like ‘I must wake up at seven every day’ and then getting upset if you sleep in. Needing to have certain things in certain places, and planning everything down to the second. That sort of stuff. Are you okay?”
Caitlyn glanced up, realising she had stopped writing at ‘needing routines’.
“I’m fine. Please continue.” She tried to smile but she’s pretty sure it turned out wrong. Jinx continued, so Caitlyn returned to her notebook and flicked her fingers against one another on the hand that wasn’t writing.
“B3 is what’s known as ‘hyperfixations’ and ‘special interests’. Basically having fixated interests that are very intense. Hyperfixations are when you become fixated on a certain show, topic, or book for a short-time, but it’s the only thing you can think about. You might lose sleep because you stay up all night thinking about this one topic. Your grades might go down because you can’t study because it’s not about your interest. And then special interests are the same but i would say it’s more long term. Becoming obsessed with one thing for over a year and knowing everything there is to know about it. Repeatedly watching the same show and never getting tired of it. Starting a collection of objects that are related to that interest. And then finally, B4, which is being sensitive to certain sounds, and textures, or seeking sensory input. This could mean you’re bothered by the texture of clothes when others aren’t, or becoming overwhelmed and upset at loud noises. Finding it hard to tolerate bright lights. There’s also sensory seeking, when people love a certain texture and will specifically get something to feel it. Apologies if anything I just said didn’t make sense.”
“No it does,” Caitlyn assured.
Jinx carries on, “and then the rest is just that these traits need to be something you’ve had all your life, and they need to significantly make an impact, because it is a disability.”
She stops talking so Caitlyn can finish her notes.
“Thanks, you’ve made everything ten times clearer. Just a quick question, you’re sure neurotypical people don’t also do these things?”
“Well, neurotypical people might stim, but not for the same reasons autistic people do. They also might struggle socially due to other reasons, and obviously everyone has interests, just not the extent that autistic people do. At the end of the day, autistic traits are human traits, and so neurotypical people might do certain things that are seen as such, but it’s the combined traits that make someone autistic. Just ‘cause an allistic person rocks back and forth sometimes doesn’t make them autistic. That’s why you need two out of the four traits in section B,” Jinx explained.
Caitlyn nodded, “is there anything that the DSM-5 misses, but is a part of being autistic.”
Jinx thought for a moment. “I would say it fails to mention autistic meltdowns. Not everyone has them obviously, and it can be presented in many different ways, but it is a big part that a lot of neurotypical people fail to understand. An autistic meltdown or shutdown happens due to extreme sensory overwhelm, feeling exhausted from socialising, unexpected changes, and possibly over-masking to the point of exhaustion. All your emotions either come out either externally, by screaming, hitting, crying, or internally, freezing up and losing the ability to talk and function. Both equally feel as bad.”
“And neurotypical people don’t do that?”
Jinx gave her an unidentifiable look that made Caitlyn flush automatically.
“No, Caitlyn, they don’t.”
“Sorry, just checking. For the article's purpose.”
She didn’t know why she felt like she had to say that, it was quite obvious that was why, but with the weird look Jinx was giving her she felt like she had to.
“Well, I've probably taken enough of your time. Should we carry this on next week?” Caitlyn concluded.
“Yeah sure. If you need anything in the meantime you know my number. I love talking about my interests,” she grinned.
“Will do,” Caitlyn smiled back, clutching her notebook.
In all honesty, Caitlyn was pretty confused. Now she’s fully certain on what autism actually is, and the traits you’re diagnosed with, she’s pretty sure everything is just a universal thing everyone does. She couldn’t tell Jinx that though, as she might bite her head off, figuratively of course. I mean, who doesn’t get upset at routine changes? Routines are great and the only thing keeping Caitlyn functioning, so of course she’s going to be upset when the one sense of stability she has is taken from her. And come on, the socialising bit? Completely universal. Caitlyn spent the majority of her childhood alone on the playground, refusing to play with the other children. ‘A great asset to the classroom but needs to participate in class more’ was said in every single parent's evening. She struggled greatly with talking, but made up for it with her writing skills. But she’s pretty sure everyone struggles with the same things she did. She certainly doesn’t think of it as an ‘autism thing’.
Is that ableist? Fuck, was she being ableist?
She wasn’t sure, but she’ll certainly keep her thoughts to herself for now.
—
Caitlyn’s eyes stung as she squinted at her computer screen which was the only light source in her office. The sun had since gone down, leaving Caitlyn hunched over her desk reading articles upon articles of all research ever done studying autism. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there for, but her tea had long gone cold.
She finished writing her section on what autism was, focusing on the diagnostic criteria. She was now finding specific statistics to show that men were more likely to be diagnosed than women, and searching for an actual reason for this.
One in forty two males were diagnosed, while one in one hundred and eighty nine females were diagnosed.
She’d written down a list of possible reasons for this, but it still felt like not enough.
She was twenty minutes into a video about female autistic traits when Vi entered her office.
“How long have you been up for?” Vi rubbed her eyes, swaying from side to side in the doorway.
Caitlyn stared at her with wide eyes, not wanting to admit that she hadn’t fallen asleep at all. She promised Vi she’d stay up for no more than half an hour.
“Cait,” Vi sighed, staring at her with her puppy dog eyes. “We’ve talked about this. No more staying up to write.”
“I know but I really want to get this section done. I’ll only be a few more minutes,” she promised.
Vi inched over and turned off her computer.
“Vi!”
“It’s bedtime. It’s three in the morning and you have work tomorrow. You already stayed up last night. You’re going to be exhausted otherwise,” Vi tugged on her arm.
Caitlyn pouted, “Fine.”
She stared up at the dark ceiling, wrapped up in the warm duvet and Vi’s arms, going through her plan for tomorrow.
“Sleep,” Vi murmured, softly rubbing her cheeks.
Caitlyn closed her eyes, but didn’t fall asleep for another hour. So many autistic girls had fallen through the cracks. Her stomach hurt just thinking about it. How many autistic women were walking around, clueless to their differences, just because there’s not a lot of research on autistic women? They could be going to sleep, just like her, not knowing why they’re different.
Her article could change someone's life.
Caitlyn could not sleep until it was finished.
—
“Are you feeling okay?” was the first thing Jinx asked Caitlyn when she saw her for their fifth interview.
“I’m fine. Just haven’t been sleeping that great,” Caitlyn brushed off, settling down on the familiar chair.
“When I can’t sleep I pace ‘round my apartment until I get dizzy and pass out. Ekko usually finds me laying on the kitchen floor curled on a blanket,” Jinx responded.
“I don’t think I’ll try that, but thanks anyways,” Caitlyn muttered.
“No worries!” Jinx swung on her chair.
Caitlyn was half way through writing the article. She liked to take things section by section, so that was what she was doing.
“I’m still writing the section on female autistic traits, and I was wondering if there’s anything left to add or anything you want me to highlight that could be useful,” she noted.
“I want to highlight autistic masking because I think that’s one of the main reasons why women aren’t getting diagnosed.”
“Could you remind me what that is?” she asked, flicking her fingers once again.
“Sure. Autistic masking is when autistic people will hide and cover their autistic traits to fit in with the neurotypicals. From a young age, you’re forced to fit in and conform with everyone else, and if you don’t you're ridiculed. A lot of autistic people have a hard time fitting in, and so will learn as a coping mechanism how to hide them and become like all their peers. Except this is extremely taxing and doing so much masking at one time can lead to meltdowns and burn out,” Jinx explained.
Caitlyn noted this down.
“And no, neurotypical people don’t mask.”
“I wasn’t going to ask that,” Caitlyn denied, her left fingers bouncing up and down on her knee.
“Sure. And I’m the president of America,” she rolled her eyes.
“So we’ve established why autistic women are more likely to be undiagnosed, and we’ve spoken about autistic traits more likely seen in women, but I wanted to speak more on…what next. Let’s just say someone’s read the article and relates to most autistic traits. They’re looking into their childhood, and they realise they might be autistic. What should they do?”
Jinx paused, thinking carefully. “I would say, if they’re close to any family members, talk to them about it, because they might be able to remember more than they will. If not, then the online community is wonderful. Talk to other late-diagnosed people, see if any of your experiences match up. It feels amazing talking with people who actually understand you.”
As Caitlyn wrote in her notebook, a scrape against the wooden table caused her to look up. A small, blue bike chain fidget was now in front of her, pink and blue painted nails edging it towards her. Caitlyn looked at her in confusion.
“Your fingers are all bouncy. I can’t concentrate with the bouncing,” Jinx pointed out.
“Sorry. I had coffee this morning,” Caitlyn lied, her cheeks flushing bright red. She’d never drunk coffee in her life, but she’d seen people get fidgety once they’d drunk it.
“No, your fingers are always moving. They’re just extra bouncy today,” Jinx noticed, tapping her fingers against the fidget.
Caitlyn picked it up and moved the two ovals in between her thumb and index finger. She would be lying if she said it didn’t feel good.
Caitlyn cleared her throat. “Do you think this person should think about getting a diagnosis or not?”
“Well, it depends on the situation they’re in. If they are certain they’re autistic and think that accommodations would benefit them, like at work and stuff, then getting a diagnosis is probably the way to go. But if getting diagnosed isn’t going to impact them, and would much prefer not to be, then they don’t have to. It’s up to them really, there’s no right or wrong way to be autistic.”
Once she’d finished writing, Caitlyn admitted, “I’m gonna miss our chats.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we’re practically related. We can talk whenever we want,” she affirmed
“And you’d want to?”
“Of course. You're actually kinda cool for my sister's girlfriend. And don’t forget we’ve got that beach trip soon.”
“Oh yes! I can’t wait.”
Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, and Ekko had made plans to drive down to the coast and have a day by the beach. Caitlyn had been apprehensive at first, considering her history with beaches (the last time she’d been was when she was nine, and she had cried the entire time they were there because she hated the feeling of the sand against her feet, and they had to leave an hour later because she wouldn’t stop crying), but she couldn’t say no to that offer because she really did want to come.
They continued talking, Caitlyn asking some questions for the article and then some just about her life. She felt bad for never initiating conversation with Jinx beforehand; she’s wonderful company and knows so many interesting things.
As Caitlyn packed her things away to get ready to leave, she left the fidget on the desk.
“You can keep it if you want. I have so many,” Jinx offered.
“Are you sure?” she hesitated.
“Of course,” Jinx smiled.
They hugged before Caitlyn left, walking through the corridors that had become so familiar to her. She didn’t feel ready to leave this routine behind. But once she’d finished the article she’d have to move onto the next thing and then the next thing.
Her job could be so draining sometimes.
—
Days at the office that weren’t interview days were spent typing rapidly on her computer as she ignored her surroundings. She needed to type up the things that Jinx had told her and put it in a cohesive sentence that connected to the subheading. She thought of her article as an ocean, and each sentence were the droplets that made up the bigger picture. You couldn’t have an ocean without water. Which is why every single individual sentence had to be perfect.
“Could I have a word with you in my office please, Caitlyn?” Cassandra announced to practically the whole room.
All of Caitlyn’s co-workers that were working on their own stuff looked up, staring at her with curiosity. Everyone knew she was Cassandra’s daughter, the nepo-baby of the journalism industry, as everyone called her ‘behind’ her back. It just made everything ten times worse. Her Mother would never employ someone who didn’t have the skills, and everyone had read her pieces. Nepo-baby or not she deserved to be here just as much as anyone else did.
“A highly appreciated editor is coming in today to look over people's works, see who needs a second draft sooner rather than later. I told her to start with yours, and then you can show her around to everyone's pieces. I trust that you’ll make her feel welcome,” she explained.
“Of course. It’s just that wouldn’t you prefer someone more…friendlier?”
In her younger years and even now, she’d often been told that she was rude. Such as when she was reading someone's article they’d just finished, and pointed out their mistakes, or when she’d first spoken to someone and her tone and facial expression apparently came across as ‘rude’, and Cassandra had scowled at her and told her to stop being so mean. Caitlyn never understood how she was being rude, let alone how to stop it.
“It’s good practice,” was all Cassandra said.
Despite what her Mother thought, she didn’t think that practising would improve her social skills. She’d had plenty of practice throughout the years, and they never really got any better. She was pretty sure she would be doomed forever in the talking area. At least she could write, so she wasn’t completely useless.
—
Thankfully, the editor that arrived was very nice, and didn’t seem to register Caitlyn’s awkwardness.
She spent the first hour carefully going through Caitlyn’s draft, commenting on what bits could be improved every so slightly. Caitlyn then introduced her to the rest of the team, and then left her with Maria so she could go through her draft.
She sat back down feeling proud of herself for accomplishing an actual sufficient conversation.
“Hey, Caitlyn,” Maddie greeted, coming up to her desk with a few other co-workers beside her.
“Hi?” Caitlyn returned, confused as to why they weren’t at their desk.
“So after work, everyone’s going to The Last Drop for a few drinks, and we were wondering if you’d want to come?”
Caitlyn swallowed, trying to come up with an excuse fast enough. “My draft has just been looked at and so I think I’ll just spend this evening tweaking it.”
“You’re doing work outside of work hours?” Maddie raised an eyebrow.
“It needs to be finished,” Caitlyn shrugged her shoulders. In all honesty, she didn’t want to go. It seemed like her idea of torture. Being in a loud room full of people from work she wasn’t a big fan of, while everyone’s drinking. She’d much prefer lazing on the couch with her girlfriend.
“Okay,” Maddie smiled, clearly holding in laughter.
Caitlyn looked down as they walked off to ask someone else, not understanding where she went wrong. She didn’t want to go, so she wouldn’t. Just because everyone else was didn’t mean that she had to as well, right?
She put on her headphones, but could still hear the faint laughter of the women, and it was just like she was back in high school again listening to people talk about her ‘behind’ her back even though she was right there and had ears.
“Don’t even bother asking next time, you know it’s too below her,” a blonde haired girl mocked her accent.
Another squealed.
“Gods she’s such a weirdo. We all know she’s only here ‘cause she’s Kiramman’s daughter.”
“Still can’t believe that. They’re nothing alike.”
“Did you hear the way she spoke? ‘My draft has been looked at.’ Sounded just like a robot,” the blonde hair girl snorted.
“Maybe she is. She surely acts like she’s from another planet,” Maddie giggled.
Caitlyn could feel her face burn up, tears threatening to fall. She fought with herself not to let her emotions show on her face. One wrong move and she’d be the laughing stock of the room.
She looked at her computer, wanting to dive into her work so she could forget about everything that had just happened. Distracting herself with things she liked always made her feel better.
She read the first thing she saw: Autistic people may struggle with social-emotional reciprocity and non-verbal conversation, such as initiating and sustaining a conversation, appearing awkward when talking to people they don’t know, or struggling with eye-contact and hand gestures.
—
Caitlyn paced around her bedroom with her notebook to hand, reading her plan aloud to no one in particular.
“Get up at seven, eat cereal and drink morning tea, get dressed, brush teeth, pack bag, put bag in car, drive one hour and fifteen minutes to coast (possibly later if traffic), meet Jinx and Ekko there, spend day by the beach, possibly go to arcades, Vi and I drive back home again.”
She repeated it over and over again to make sure she was clear on what was happening.
‘Beach day’ had arrived and Caitlyn was beyond anxious. She hadn’t a clue of what to expect, and so she made herself feel better knowing she had a plan that she could stick to. She left the bedroom with her heavy backpack resting on one shoulder, spotting Vi packing tubs of food into her own backpack.
“You got everything?” Vi asked.
“I’m pretty sure,” she affirmed.
They had five minutes before they had to leave. Caitlyn was watching the clock like a hawk.
Just then, the door bell rang.
“That’ll be them!” Vi jumped up, rushing to the door.
The colour drained from Caitlyn’s face as she tried to find who ‘them’ was on her plan and why they were at their door.
“Hiya!!” a familiar voice squealed from outside the door.
“Jinx! It’s been so long I hardly even recognise you!” Vi brought her in for a hug, “And little man! How’ve you been!”
“I’ve been good, man! So great to see you,” Ekko replied, hugging Vi back.
Caitlyn watched this interaction, her brain screaming at her to ask what’s going on. She knew the plan off by heart and this definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. They had to leave in three minutes.
Jinx and Ekko entered, Vi closing the door behind them.
“Good to see you again, Caitlyn,” Jinx chirped, Ekko agreeing.
“Good to see you too. Hey, Vi. Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“Sure,” Vi replied.
Caitlyn practically dragged her to the kitchen.
“Why are they here?” Caitlyn hushed angrily, her fingers flying up and down by her side.
“What do you mean? We’re going to the beach with them?” Vi stared at her, confused.
“I know, but you said we were meeting them there.”
“Oh yeah. Last minute change in plan. Jinx wasn’t sure that her car would make it that far because it needs work done to it, so I offered that we all just drive there in my car. It seems more practical anyway as we’re all going to the same place,” Vi shrugged.
“I don’t like when plans change without me knowing. I—need to know,” Caitlyn panicked, but she tried not to show just how much she was panicking in her head. Everything was now entirely wrong. She would have to redo her whole plan now, and they were supposed to leave in one minute.
“Oh shit. I’m really sorry. It completely slipped my mind. For some reason I thought I’d already told you,” Vi stared guiltily.
Caitlyn stared at her feet, letting out a shaky breath.
“It’ll still be okay. You won’t have to change much in your notebook, right?” Vi rubbed her thumb against Caitlyn’s smooth cheek.
“I will. Because everything’s wrong now and we’re two minutes late on leaving,” she pouted.
There was a very bad feeling in her stomach. It felt like the world was ending.
“I’m so sorry, Cait. Is there anything I can do?”
“No.”
She stormed off, opening the front door and entering the passenger seat so they’re not later than they already were. The three others joined her a few minutes later, as Caitlyn was angrily scribbling out her plan in her notebook. She took out the small, bike chain fidget Jinx had given her and rolled it around in between her fingers.
“Let’s get this show on the road!” Jinx cried from the backseat.
Vi gently rubbed circles against Caitlyn’s knee, before pulling out of the drive.
Her anger quickly dissipated into sadness as she realised how pathetic she probably looked right now. This was supposed to be a good day and she was ruining it just because of a slight change in plan. She was a grown woman for goodness sake.
She shoved her notebook away and then pushed her discomfort down until it was barely there. She forced a smile upon her face even though it hurt and it didn’t feel right.
She wasn’t going to ruin the day just because she couldn’t handle change. She wasn’t going to do that anymore.
—
The entire car ride was awful.
Jinx kept turning the music up, and Caitlyn tried her hardest not to flinch every time the drum hit. Her brain kept reminding her that this wasn’t the plan and it was driving her insane.
She had started scratching a particular spot on her right arm, away from Vi’s view, as a way to self-soothe from her growing discomfort. The floods of pain and the repetitive motion comforted her.
When they finally arrived, Caitlyn looked at her arm to find it completely red-rore, blood coming up to the surface. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t act how she normally seemed.
They carried all of their stuff over to the beach, finding the best spot to camp out. Before they stepped onto the sand, the three of them took off their shoes and socks. Caitlyn chewed her lip, before bravely doing the same. The sand felt cool beneath her feet. As she walked, the grains continued to wedge in between her toes, interfering with places it shouldn’t. Caitlyn understood why nine year old her cried at the feeling of the sand. The texture was horrible. She wondered how other people could be okay with the feeling of it.
Vi laid down a blanket, which Caitlyn viewed as a protective barrier to the disgusting texture. She tried to nonchalantly sit down and rub her feet, but she’s pretty sure her rapidly scraping the sand off her feet was not done in a calm, collective way.
“Who’s going in the sea?” Vi asked.
“Me,” Ekko replied, taking his shirt off.
At least there was good weather to go for a swim in the sea. It would’ve been worse if Caitlyn was sitting shivering to death.
“I think I’m gonna make a sand castle before I swim,” Jinx shrugged.
“I’ll stay here,” Caitlyn replied.
“Alright. Guess it’s just you and me, little man,” Vi smiled, taking her clothes off to reveal her swimwear underneath.
Caitlyn would be amused if she wasn’t so overwhelmed. The second Vi left, she rolled up her sleeve and started to scratch again.
The two of them sat in silence for a while, content with what they were doing. Jinx cried out when her fifth attempt at building a sand castle actually worked.
“Did you see that?” She turned to face Caitlyn, “holy shit, what the hell happened to your arm?”
Caitlyn shrugged her shoulders, continuing the scratching. There was a lot of blood now, in between her nails and running down her arm. Jinx tore her left hand away.
“You really shouldn’t be doing that,” she pointed out.
“I don’t really care,” Caitlyn replied truthfully. A bit of blood was the least of her worries. She could feel a panic attack coming on and she knew damn well she could not have it here. So if scratching would stop it, then that’s what she would do.
“Where’s the thing I gave you?”
“Doesn’t help.”
Jinx let go of Caitlyn’s hand and looked through her backpack instead. She brought out some sort of ring.
“What about this? You wear it as a ring but it has spikes on the outside so you can press your finger against it,” Jinx explained, offering the ring.
Caitlyn didn’t take it.
“Please just try,” Jinx pleaded.
So Caitlyn took the ring and slid it onto her fourth finger. The pain it brought wasn’t similar in the slightest but she used it anyway.
“It’s the only thing I have that might help. I don’t really pain stim.”
Caitlyn froze. “Stim?”
Jinx froze up too, eyes widening. “No! I mean—I was referring to me. Nothing to do with you! Of course. I’m not saying that you do! I was just saying that I don’t really…uh.”
“I don’t stim,” Caitlyn said, heart pounding.
“No! I wasn’t saying that!” Jinx backtracked.
“You implied it,” Caitlyn retorted.
“I wasn’t implying anything by what I said. It was a genuine mistake of words.”
“That was it, wasn’t it? The entire reason you wanted me to write this stupid article. You think I have autism,” she accused, discarding the ring.
“What! No—”
Caitlyn stood up, rapidly losing her cool.
“Sometimes—sometimes people just struggle with socialising, and that’s it! Nothing more! No words or labels needed! Everyone gets upset at change! I mean—routine and plan changes are the worst! Why does everything need to change all the time! What’s wrong with wanting some stability in your life?! And sometimes people just like to flap their hands sometimes! If it feels good then why not?! Why does it need a label! Like—like—like everyone does these things it doesn’t make you different or autistic, it’s just normal!” Caitlyn exploded.
It seemed as if everyone on the beach was staring at them, Ekko and Vi swimming back to shore.
She couldn’t deal with people right now.
“Caitlyn…”
Caitlyn ran, barefooted, across the sandy beach.
“Wait, Caitlyn!” she heard Jinx shout before she was too far away to hear what else she was saying.
She ran until her legs burned and she had to stop to gulp a breath. She was completely alone, under what seemed to be a pier. She sat down on the itchy sand and buried her head between her knees, shame burning within her.
She remembered her younger self; a tiny shell of a child. She didn’t speak until she was three, but she taught herself how to write a year beforehand, through reading books upon books. When she started kindergarten, she watched all the other children make friends, while she sat by herself reading, and perfecting her handwriting. People tried to talk to her but she didn’t know what to reply with, so she said nothing. All she had was her writing and her routine. And then in high school she had nothing as she watched everything around her change before her eyes. She was weird and different and her peers reminded her of that daily.
But she never understood why.
Tears left her sad, blue eyes, one by one. Tiny Caitlyn wasn’t here anymore, but she still felt the same way she had when she was that age. She still felt different, like an alien from another planet. She still struggled with socialising despite all her teachers telling her it would get easier as she grew up. She still cried when her routine changed.
She groaned, violently trying to remove the sand from every inch of her skin that the specs clinged to.
She hit her knuckles against her head until The Bad Feeling went away.
—
She slowly padded back through the beach the way she came. The sand taunted her, but she was too tired to care.
She wanted Vi.
She caught sight of her pacing back and forth by the blanket. When Vi saw her, she ran to her.
“Caitlyn!”
Caitlyn sunk into Vi’s arms, feeling safe to let go of her mask.
“Are you okay? Jinx wouldn’t tell me what happened. I was so worried,” she rushed.
“‘M fine. Just don’t feel well.”
“We’re going home now. And then we’ll get you some medicine. Is it your head? It’s bright red.”
Caitlyn nodded, even though it was everything.
She zoned out while Vi led her through the motions, the bike chain fidget in her palm being the only thing keeping her grounded.
The car journey back was silent, with no radio or laughter like the journey there. The whole day had been a disaster. Nothing in her plan had gone the way it should’ve.
Before the couples went their separate ways, Jinx pulled her to the side.
“I’m really sorry for what I said.”
Caitlyn shook her head, “not your fault. I’ll talk on Monday."
Her words were failing her but she didn’t care at that moment. She wanted to tell her everything, just not now.
Jinx nodded, “I’ll see you then.”
She fell asleep the moment Vi tucked her into bed, as she was exhausted to her bones.
—
The day after a breakdown like the one Caitlyn had was always the hardest. She felt tired and her head hurt and her arm burned. She felt fragile, like any loud noise would break her.
When she made her way into the kitchen after sleeping until eleven, her morning tea and a bowl of cereal were already there at her usual seat at the table. Vi smiled at her from where she was sitting.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Good,” she responded numbly, taking a sip of her lukewarm tea.
She wanted to tell her everything but she had no idea where to start.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she started, “I completely ruined the good day.”
“Hey, you didn’t ruin anything, and you definitely don’t need to apologise. I was ready to leave anyway,” Vi responded.
“Well if I hadn't left in a strop we could have actually done stuff, like enjoy the picnic you packed and go on the arcades,” Caitlyn huffed.
“Don’t blame yourself for your emotions. We all have bad days. Would you be thinking the same thing if it was me?”
Caitlyn sighed, the both of them already knowing the answer to that.
“Exactly.”
Caitlyn watched the liquid swim around as she moved her cup in a circle. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
The words lingered in the air, too heavy to process.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I think I was cursed when I was born. Like I wasn’t born right,” she admitted.
“Why do you think that?”
Vi didn’t know Caitlyn like she knew herself, so she clearly couldn’t comprehend what Caitlyn meant.
“You didn’t know me as a kid, and as a teenager. Every single day at school since kindergarten I was bullied, and made fun of for being different. I’m horrible at talking and I cry when anything changes. It’s not right.”
“It’s just you. I don’t see you any differently. We all have weaknesses, hell, I know that more than anyone.”
Caitlyn shook her head, playing with her hands underneath the table.
“I think that I’m…I think I’m—autistic.”
It felt so good to get it off her chest. She had been thinking it for weeks, she’d just never been brave enough to say it aloud. She braced for Vi to be disgusted, to tell her she was wrong, and that it wasn’t possible to have gone as long as she had without a diagnosis. But instead, when she glanced at her again, she was staring with her wide puppy dog eyes that seemed more sad than disgusted.
“Oh, Cait. That’s okay. That’s not a curse.”
“It sure feels like it,” she sniffed. “Aren’t you going to tell me I’m wrong? Or laugh at my face for being so blind.”
“Of course not. Knowing you, you wouldn’t suspect something like that if you hadn’t done a lot of research and spent a lot of time thinking about it. I mean—you didn’t even want to say you had anxiety despite having weekly panic attacks. I don’t think you would fake that. But—I would be lying if I said I hadn’t seen some…traits,” she chose her words carefully.
“So you are saying I’m stupidly blind,” she replied bluntly.
“Not that either. You told me you didn’t even know what it was before you started writing the article, so how could you have known that you were? Your whole article is about how and why female autistic people are more likely to slip through the cracks and not be recognised. But my sister’s autistic and I have ADHD, so I do know the traits, and I’m not saying you're blind, but I have recognised that you do…do some.”
“I’m such an idiot,” Caitlyn groaned.
“Not at all, Cupcake. I know it’s hard, but don’t think of this as ‘why didn’t I know this sooner’, but think of it as ‘I know this now and I’m going to do something about it’. That might not mean getting a diagnosis, but just personally accommodating yourself,” Vi suggested.
“I don’t know how,” she admitted.
“Well you have me, and I’ll always support you. There’s also Jinx…”
“I’m gonna talk to her on Monday.”
“That’s good. She’ll know what to do. She’s always been good at helping people, which is why I think she chose the job that she did. But Cait.”
Caitlyn studied her.
“Being autistic isn’t a bad thing.”
Caitlyn took a deep breath. “I think I’m starting to understand that now.”
—
“I need to apologise," was the first thing Caitlyn told Jinx when she was sat opposite Jinx in her familiar, colourful office. “I shouldn’t have said that stuff on the beach. It was wrong.”
“I accept it, even though I don’t really think you need to apologise. It was…factually wrong. But you were clearly going through something and didn’t mean it. You’re literally a journalist so I’m pretty sure you knew the stuff you were saying was incorrect,” Jinx said.
“Yes…I know that. And I wasn’t upset at you that day, I was upset at other things,” she promised.
“I can’t remember the amount of times I fought with Vi about something she said when I was actually just overwhelmed and tired. It happens,” she shrugged.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said—or rather what I said—and I believe that I might be…autistic.”
Jinx’s eyes widened, and then she grinned, “Really?”
Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Is this the bit where you tell me how stupid I am for not seeing it sooner?”
“Uh I didn’t realise I was autistic until I was nineteen. I’ve been there, Blue. But you totally caught me. The real reason why I suggested for you to write the article was because I had my suspicions, but I knew if I told it to you straight, you never would have believed me,” she admitted.
“Well, I guess it worked,” Caitlyn sighed.
“I guess it did,” she said, a smug looking grin planted on her face.
“I don’t really know what to do now.”
“Do you think that getting a diagnosis would help or support you in any way?”
“I think it would help with my self-hatred. Like if I have an awful conversation, which I can guarantee I will, instead of hating myself for it, I can just say ‘yeah I’m autistic’ and it’s okay. But is that even a real reason to get one?”
“Of course, it makes complete sense. We’ve been told all our lives to hate everything that’s made us different, and getting a diagnosis can feel like being understood for the first time.”
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do this alone,” Caitlyn admitted. She’d gone through her entire life feeling alone, feeling different from every single person around her.
“Well luckily you won’t have to. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”
And for the first time in forever, she didn’t feel so alone.
—
Walking into Cassandra’s office felt different to all the other times she’d done so. She felt invincible, like nothing could touch her. Cassandra had made her feel small a lot in her life, and now Caitlyn felt untouchable.
Her article was a success. Articles had been written after hers, exploring the subject further. She’d gotten loads of comments from people thanking her for making this, as they’d only just learned what autism actually is. Her article allowed people to discover themselves, which is what Caitlyn had dreamed of.
Her article had changed lives.
She was riding the high of all of it, walking around the office like she was flying through air.
“Caitlyn?” Cassandra questioned when Caitlyn appeared at her door, unannounced.
“Hi. Could I speak with you for a moment?”
“Sure.”
Caitlyn shut the door behind her and sat down, taking in the dullness of the room. After being in Jinx’s office so many times, she expected all offices to look as colourful and friendly as hers did.
“What did you want to talk about?” her Mother asked, studying her.
Her Mother had aged gracefully throughout the years. As Caitlyn stared at her, making sure she chose her words correctly, she found that she looked so different to the way she did when she was a child. Her sternness that Caitlyn feared had dissipated, her edges turning soft. She supposed that’s just what having a child does to you. Especially a child as difficult as Caitlyn.
“I want to talk about what I was like as a child.”
She didn’t actually want to, but to get a diagnosis she needed a level of knowledge of it, and she couldn’t remember much.
“What would you like to know?” she smiled, like all mothers do when they get to speak about their child. Despite their arguments, she knew her Mother loved her, and Caitlyn would always love her too.
“As much as you remember.”
“Well, you were always very quiet. As a child and then through to your adolescence. I always struggled to understand you. I never knew what you were thinking. People would blame it on how I raised you but I knew that it was just a part of who you are. You’ve always been highly intelligent when it comes to writing. Always above your expected reading and writing level. Obviously you had your moments, but overall, you were a very well-behaved child.”
“How so?” she questioned further.
“Oh well, every child has tantrums. You more than others. There was this one time when we surprised you with a new backpack. It was perfect, just your size and colour and it could fit everything you needed, rather than your small pink one. We thought you’d like it, so we gave your other one away. That was a big mistake. When you learned of it you wouldn’t stop crying. Me and your father’s attempts to calm you down were in vain. You would not stop screaming. And the scratching. Your poor arms were so red, I thought you wouldn’t have any more skin left. It was awful,” she recalled, shaking her head at the memory.
“But it happened a lot after that. Like at school when there was a class change. We soon figured out ways to calm you down.”
“And you never…saw anything wrong with it?”
“I mean—teachers were concerned. Said it needed to be looked at. I wasn’t worried, all children have tantrums,” she repeated, shrugging.
Caitlyn sighed, processing the new information. She didn’t remember any of this, her brain had completely blocked it out from her access.
“Is something wrong?” Cassandra asked, knowing her daughter well.
“Mother, I need to tell you something, but I don’t want you to be mad at me or judge me. This is my decision.”
“Alright,” she nodded.
Caitlyn breathed in. “I think that I am autistic and I’m pursuing a diagnosis.”
See? That wasn’t so hard was it.
Caitlyn watched Cassandra’s expression change.
“Oh.”
“Do you—What are you thinking?”
“You’re an adult now, so you can do what you think is right. I didn’t think for a second that you could be…” the colour drained from her face, “when you were younger…your teacher suggested to look into it. Autism. But I didn’t think that you could be.”
Caitlyn gaped at her. “And you didn’t think to tell me this?”
“Oh Caity, it was a different time back then. You didn’t want your child to be labelled with anything like that. I didn’t want you to get bullied, so I made the decision not to look into it. Everything turned out fine in the end!”
“You don’t need a label to be bullied. I was bullied—every day—for my differences. It was actually worse because I had no idea what I was doing wrong. Why I was so different from everyone else. I was miserable,” she scoffed.
“You wouldn’t tell me anything! How was I supposed to know you were struggling?"
“I couldn’t tell you because you wouldn’t have understood! You would’ve just thrown money around like you always do to solve something. It doesn’t work like that,” Caitlyn argued.
“What do you expect me to do? Go back in time? This is what you always do! Dwell on the past and keep bringing it back up. It happened and nothing will change that! You’re always like this with change,” Cassandra hissed.
“I just can’t believe you would just ignore something like that.”
“You wouldn’t understand until you’re a mother. As a mother, you have to do what you think is best for your child and that’s what I thought. It’s as simple as that,” she declared.
Caitlyn’s hands were spinning out of control as she was increasingly feeling overwhelmed. She scraped her chair back, walking out of the door. Cassandra called for her but it was too late, she was already gone.
Her heart was racing as she slammed the bathroom door shut. It was the one that nobody ever went in as it was the furthest away from the office, and it was the disabled toilet. Caitlyn did feel slightly guilty for using it but she really needed the extra space.
She slammed her body onto the ground, the hard floor grounding her, stopping her from falling apart. She rocked back and forth but it wasn’t enough to stop The Bad Feeling inside of her, swarming around painfully, controlling her with an iron grip. Everything was out of her control.
She could have gotten an earlier diagnosis. Everything could have been different.
She bit her knuckles, teeth indents blossoming bright red. It wasn’t enough. She banged her fists into her skull again and again. It wasn’t enough. She scratched and clawed at her arms with her long fingernails, picking the blisters off her right arm. She hissed at the pain, unlike anything she’d ever experienced. It stung, and her arm felt like it was on fire. The pain had a life of its own, fighting with The Bad Feeling. The more she scratched the powerless the bad feeling became, and it soon won.
As soon as The Bad Feeling had gone, her surroundings became clearer, and she looked around at the mess she had made. She watched her carmine blood trickle down both arms, ignoring the pounding in her head. She let out a choked sob as droplets fell to the floor. She was powerless again.
Reaching for her phone, she used all her energy she had left to call Vi. She would know what to do.
The ring tone echoed through her ear, before she heard the familiar, soft voice.
“Hi, Cait”
“Vi,” she groaned.
“Caitlyn? Is something wrong?” Vi worried.
“I—need you,” she gritted, choking in between her words.
“Where are you?”
“Work. Disabled toilet.”
“I’ll be there in five,” there was rustling on the other side of the phone, “just keep breathing. In and out.”
Vi kept on the phone the whole time she drove there. Her voice soothed her greatly.
“Okay I’m here, Cupcake,” she announced. Caitlyn could hear her coming up the stairs over the phone.
“Caitlyn?” Vi’s voice called from outside the door, and over the phone. Two Vi’s.
Caitlyn groaned.
The door opened, which is when Caitlyn remembered she’d forgotten to lock the door. Vi’s pink hair came into view, and then her worried expression and soft eyes.
“Oh baby.”
Vi hugged Caitlyn with pressure, just the way she liked it. Caitlyn sobbed into her arms until she ran out of tears and became too exhausted. She slowly started to feel better, and not so small and powerless. Vi always knew how to make her feel better.
Vi got her to stand up, leading her slowly to the sink. Vi warned that it was going to sting, before wiping away the dried blood from her arm with a wet paper towel. Caitlyn hissed, burying her head into Vi’s shoulder.
She was grateful to leave the bathroom, ridding herself of the poignant smell of metallic. Vi carried her to the car as her legs ached and her brain was struggling to think of what to do next.
In the car, Caitlyn told her everything. The fact that people did notice her traits, and that she could have gotten an earlier diagnosis. She didn’t have to be in the predicament that she was in now.
Vi said all the right things and she soon felt better.
—
Months later…
“How are you feeling?” Vi asked, looking over at Caitlyn as she drove.
“Terrified,” she replied truthfully, scratching her arm automatically.
“Please don’t do that.” Vi caught her arm with one hand still on the steering wheel.
“I can’t do this.”
“It’s going to be okay. You’re the bravest person I know, Cupcake,” she assured.
“Yeah! And it literally takes like ten minutes tops. It’s so quick you won’t even remember what the room looks like,” Jinx chimed from the back seat.
Caitlyn groaned, burying her face in her hands.
They were currently on their way to the clinic to finally know for sure whether Caitlyn is autistic or not. And she was terrified.
Once they’d parked and started walking there, Caitlyn kept trying to turn back, but her attempts were unsuccessful due to Vi’s tight grip on her wrist.
Sitting in the waiting room between Vi and Jinx, it started to feel real. She was getting her answers today.
Inside the small clinic was exactly the same as when Caitlyn had come before. It still had posters stuck to the wall advertising its services. It still was almost deadly silent.
Caitlyn walked up to the lady at reception, Vi and Jinx following behind her.
“Name?” she asked politely.
“Caitlyn Kiramman.”
She smiled. “Take a seat, someone will be with you shortly.”
They were the only ones in the waiting area, standing out from the dullness like a sore thumb. She played anxiously with the bike chain fidget. She’d gotten different fidgets over the past few weeks, but this particular one would always be her favourite. Vi rested a hand on her knee, grounding her.
“Miss Kiramman?” A voice called, breaking the silence for a moment.
Caitlyn stood up with purpose, looking firm. But the uneasy look she gave Vi showed that it was not what she was feeling inside. Vi gave a reassuring smile, reminding her she’d be here when she finished. Caitlyn had planned beforehand that she would go in alone. It was her burden to bear after all.
She thought she was going to throw up the whole time she walked with the psychiatrist. Her office was only down a hall, but Caitlyn made note to the bins that passed, just in case.
“Take a seat,” she ordered kindly. Caitlyn looked around the room, taking in the gentle hue from the led lights.
“Hi, Mrs Kiramman. You haven’t met me before but my name is Sky and I’ve worked as a psychiatrist for seven years. This is a follow-up appointment to your evaluation, is that correct?”
Caitlyn nodded. ”And just Caitlyn is fine.”
“Alright, Caitlyn. Thank you for coming in today. I know this process can be a lot so if you have any questions at any point please feel free to stop me. Today we’re going to go over the results of your assessment. I’ll also suggest some recommendations, and you’ll get a copy of this report as well. Does everything make sense so far?”
Caitlyn nodded.
Sky smiled. “Okay, so firstly, I want to talk about your assessment results.”
Caitlyn zoned out for most of it. Most of what Sky was saying she already knew, or had expected.
“Now, based on the full evaluation, you do meet the criteria for autism spectrum disorder. What this means is that your social communication struggles, sensory sensitivities, rigid thinking, and your lifelong experiences all fit the specification for asd. Your experiences especially match what is commonly seen in high-masking women that don’t get diagnosed until later in life. In the report you’ll find a list of accommodations I think you would benefit from, and it also goes through everything I've spoken about today. This can be a lot to take in so I understand if you're feeling overwhelmed,” Sky sympathized.
Caitlyn tried to think of an emotion she was feeling, but she couldn’t pinpoint one specific emotion. On one hand she felt happy hearing her words, like she finally understood why she had always felt so different to everyone else. But on the other hand, she felt upset that she had gone twenty three years of her life without ever knowing what was wrong with her. She had spent so many years of her life trying to fix herself, watching how other people spoke and acting differently to get people to like her. This whole time she thought there was something deeply wrong with her. And now she had an answer. But it still didn’t make up for all the wasted years that could've been different if she’d gotten this diagnosis earlier.
“Do you have any questions?” Sky asked, breaking the silence.
Caitlyn shook her head, squirming in her chair. She didn’t feel overwhelmed by the information, more so by the amount of emotions that strangled her throat and wrecked her insides.
“Alright. I think that concludes everything. Do you have any questions?”
Caitlyn shook her head, knowing if she did, she’d have Jinx to answer them.
She felt like a completely different person when she spotted the two of them in the waiting room, studying her expression.
“How’d it go?” Vi asked as they walked to the car.
“Told you it didn’t take long,” Jinx said at the same time.
“It went fine,” Caitlyn proclaimed, “said I meet the criteria for it and stuff.”
Caitlyn flushed, finding it so awkward to talk about it.
“Hey! That’s great!” Jinx whooped.
“Not sure an autism diagnosis is something to celebrate,” Caitlyn said bluntly.
“Sure it is! Vander made me a cake after mine!” Jinx grinned.
Caitlyn smiled. “I don’t feel differently. Am I supposed to?”
“Nah, you’re still you. Nothing has really changed. You just now have a name for the way you are,” Jinx explained.
Caitlyn nodded. “Well, I couldn’t have done this without the both of you. And Jinx’s article idea.”
Jinx snorted. “You better be thanking me for life. Never underestimate my bright ideas again. Looking at you Vi”
“Yeah, yeah,” Vi rolled her eyes.
Caitlyn held up her water bottle, “To Jinx’s idea.”
Jinx and Vi chimed in, “To Jinx’s idea!”