Nostalgia [Spencer Reid]

[Autsim]

"I know of nobody who is purely autistic, or purely neurotypical. Even God has some autistic moments, which is why the planets spin."
-Jerry Newport

>>Chase Mavericks' Point of View<<

I don't know why, but for some odd reason I invited Spencer to coffee.

"So if you're getting your PhD in psychology, why are you taking quantum physics?" He questioned.

"The same reason I take an art class, I enjoy it." I shrugged.

"What was high school like for you?" He asked.

Uhm, let me see... Hell.

"I was homeschooled." I lied.

He silently nodded.

Being a child genius wasn't exactly easy.

I got bullied a lot, trash canned. I remember once when I attempted to try out for the cheerleading squad, I showed up to the gym after school and it was frog-dissection day and lets just say I got covered in amphibian organs.

He took a sip of his coffee and then started at the cup intently.

"Coffee is a language in itself." He smirked.

I smiled slightly.

"Hey can I ask you a slight personal question?"

"You just did." He chuckled.

"Shut up, smart ass." I laughed shoving him.

"Language! You're like ten."

"Fourteen!" I shouted in defense, hailing a few looks from some students studying in the cafe.

"Seriously, can I?" I urged.

"Sure." He smirked.

"Would you happen to know if you're autistic?" I flinched, I shouldn't have asked.

He furrowed his brows and stuck out his lips
Like he was thinking.

"I don't believe that I've ever been diagnosed. Why do you ask?"

"Because you are the single most intelligent person I have ever met, but... durning your lecture, you fumbled your fingers and tapped your foot, and you wouldn't make eye-contact with anyone but me because you were already comfortable with me." I explained.

He made that cute thinking face again.

"I-I..." He paused,"I think you've made me speechless for the first time in my life."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I smirked.

Right as he was about to reply, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

"Oh my god, I had no idea of the time, it's past curfew." I frantically panicked.

"You have a curfew?" He questioned.

"I'm fourteen, Spencer!"

"Hey wait, before you go, here's my number."

He handed me a small sheet of paper with Roman numerals on it.

I laughed to myself then said my goodbye, running home.

I rode my bike to Little Caesars in order to try and bribe my punishment out of them.

I sheepishly entered the front door to be confronted by none other than Mr. and Mrs. Mavericks.

"Hi..." I trailed off.