Bloom

24. jumping sheep

Haven

The incidents had upset Zephaniah, anyone could tell. Because, although he never talked much, he was even more quiet now after the slight choking and rolling gum balls.

We had decided to take a walk with his dog, Cooper, to refresh our minds after all the studying we had done. Zephaniah was walking around a bit disheartened, his head hung low, mumbling quiet things to either himself or his dog- I didn't know.

His cheeks were still flushed pink, and I could tell he still felt rather uncomfortable, which made me sad as, obviously, the things that just happened didn't make me think negatively of him. It only made me like him a tad bit more.

"Hey," I said, trying to gain his attention. "I call it the ten seconds rule. You can still eat it if it's been lying on the floor for under those ten seconds." I joked, trying to enlighten the mood.

Zephaniah gave me a short, disheartened smile and continued to stare at his dog, his lips parted slightly. "Did you count for them all?"

"It's okay, Zephaniah. I didn't mind. It was funny." I tried again, feeling sad about the fact that he had warmed up slightly to me- though, this situation had made him take a few steps back again.

"You're- you're not mad?" He questioned quietly, not once looking at me as he kept his eyes trained onto Cooper, fiddling with his leash.

I frowned a little, unsure about his question. "No, of course not. Why would I be?"

Zephaniah shrugged, clearly hesitating as his lips parted, but closed again after a while, his eyebrows furrowing.

"You can tell, it's okay." I encouraged him, secretly observing his expression. "I'm listening." Bending forward to pet his dog, I hadn't realised my backpack had been open the whole time- the Amsterdam and autism book falling out.

Zephaniah's eyes lingered on the autism one, and as he suddenly looked up with a skeptical expression on his face, he swallowed, looking away. "It does not define me," his voice sounded defending, which confirmed everything.

"What doesn't?" I asked softly, quickly stuffing the books back inside, making sure my backpack was zipped up properly this time.

Zephaniah glanced at me again, a soft sigh leaving his parted lips. "Autism,"

I couldn't help but smile a little, though, hid it. Things were clearer now, things had an explanation, which made me understand Zephaniah better. "It doesn't, indeed. Why would it define you?" I asked. Zephaniah looked surprised with my answer, I didn't understand why.

He shrugged again, looking up at the sky instead. "People getting sick of my behavior, but- but it's not like I can help it?" He licked his lips, his eyes following a few lost clouds, "I'm trying, always try so hard, okay."

"For what?" I wondered, the two of us suddenly standing still.

Zephaniah glanced at me, his fingers moving into the wooden fence he was leaning against, plucking some of the wood off. "Normality," he whispered, his eyes observing his own fingers.

"You don't have to, you know?" I furrowed my own eyebrows, feeling sad that he thought that way. Though, he sounded wise, he knew what he was talking about and it made me want to dig into his deepest thoughts and mind so badly.

"I do," he answered, somewhat, sadly.

"Why?" I asked again, craving for the explanation of his mindset.

"People will not- will not accept you, haven't you seen, Haven." He mumbled, pulling his grey beanie further over his face, covering his slightly red ears from the breeze that had hit them.