The middle

Harley

Harley was weird. That's how Maggie sees it anyway.

After they crashed and fell to the floor,  Maggie apologized profusely and offered to help him hang the flyers he was carrying (she glanced at them as they were picking them up). He barely looked at her when he mumbled thanks and walked away. He didn't even smile or anything.  Maggie didn't know if she should follow him or not. Was that a no, thanks or a yes, thanks? He was far away already, so Maggie decided to go back inside.

There was dust still hanging in the air and she still had a long way to go. She would sigh but dust could get in her nose and that would not be pretty. Even so, staring at the dust through  sunlight with books in the background made her happy. Everything about this place made her happy. It was her safe space.

She walked to the shelf she was cleaning and read the titles lined up. There were some she's read a couple of times, but there were others she's never even heard of. Maybe Adam would let her read books if she did a good job here. She could probably get an employees discount if she asked nicely and had an impeccable work to show for it. Maggie dusted two other bookcases before he walked in.

He noticed her a full minute before she even lifted her eyes from the book she had found between the shelves, and was now carefully opening so she wouldn't damage the spine. Pride and Prejudice has always been one of her favorite books. She carefully opened the leather bound edition in Mr. Darcy's letter and began reading. It was hands down one of the best letters in books ever.

Harley just stared at her, waiting. Waiting for what, he wasn't sure. He wasn't going to talk to her. She was pretty and he was... well, him.

He knew perfectly well people did not like him. Not at first. It didn't matter where he was or who he was with, people always stared. Harley didn't mind, he was used to it. Even as a little boy, people always seemed to wonder what was wrong with him.

It took six years of his life and countless doctors and therapists for them to actually learn what was wrong with him.

"There's nothing wrong with him when it comes to health" the doctor had told his mom. "He's a perfectly healthy young boy." He walked around his desk and crouched in front of him giving him a sweet look. "Your boy is just different".

Autism. That's what the doctor said after just different. He explained what he could to Mary, Harley's mom, that he might not recognize emotions, he might not be as smart as other kids their age, he might not express what he was thinking or feeling and that could cause him to react aggressively. He might, he might, he might. Nothing the doctor said was straightforward or factual. 

Mary believed it was her fault for months. Everyone thought she and Christopher were going to split up. They fought for months over the stupidest little things, trying to hide the pain and fear of what came next. Eventually, they found their way back to an euthymic space, after some marriage counseling.

After all the drama, Mary decided she was not going to let that stop her son from being a regular person. Both her and her husband did a lot of research, though there was not a lot of information. It took a lot of work and attention to understand Harley, but after a long time of trial and error, they found methods that work. They knew how to calm him down, how to avoid him scratching his face when he was upset, they learned to use cards to help him understand his emotions and they verbally expressed their emotions to him so he could recognize them. They also sent Harley to a speech therapist, someone who had work with autistic kids before, and she helped Harley speak fluently, though he got a stutter when he was upset.

He did, however, have a slight delay in his cognitive development. It took him longer than other kids to understand, memorize or explain things. He was always a grade behind his age, his mom wanted him to socialize with other kids, but he didn't have that many friends and they all vanished when he graduated high school. Well, all except for Nick. They met in middle school and even though Nick thought Harley was a freak at first, he started to like him. One day, Harley took him home to show him his snow globe collection and Nick was fascinated. He'd never seen that many of them in a single room. At that time, Harley had only about 14, he has tripled that since.

Harley had never understood what all the fuss about girls was. Nick always told him girls were the best thing on earth, but he much rather preferred his snow globes. He had never had a girlfriend, never even liked a girl. Harley might not even know what liking a girl feels like. But maybe it was somewhat similar to the strange tingling of his hands or the sudden upbeat of his heart when he saw her.

She smiled down at the book as there was nothing else and Harley was curious. He didn't know what he was feeling which made him want to scratch the back of his neck. He had scars on his cheeks and some on his neck for when he scratched too hard as a kid. His mom always found out and even though she never raised her voice at him, he switched to scratching the back of his neck so his parents wouldn't notice as much.

He didn't have time to even consider it further, because in that moment she turned to look at him.

Maggie didn't know what to think of him. He was just staring at her, messing with something between his fingers. No smile, no shame of being caught staring at a girl. Nothing. She put the book back where she found it and walked towards him.

"You should take a photo, they last longer" she said placing her hands in her hips. He didn't even smile. Maggie regretted her words. "I did not mean that, it was a joke." she said relaxing her hands.

"Oh" he said and then he smiled, but there was something off about his smile. It looked forced.

"Let me try again. I'm Maggie" she extended her hand for him to take it.

"Harley" he said shaking her hand. He kept playing with something on his other hand.

"Listen, I'm sorry for crashing into you earlier. I was distracted"

"I was distracted too. Don't worry." Harley said. When Maggie smiled again, he dropped what was on his hand to the floor. They both looked down but she picked it up. It was a guitar pick.

"You play?" she asked, returning the pick.

"Guitar? Yes, a little. But I don't use picks to play, they just... they help me calm down." Harley said looking down at the red pick resting in his palm.

"Oh" Maggie didn't know what to say next.

After a moment of silence he said "goodbye" turned around and left the store.

Maggie stood there for a moment, trying to take in what had just happened. She wondered if he had a problem, or maybe he was hiding something. Maybe he was so nervous about talking to her his brain just collapsed. Maybe he was a robot.

Oh.

When Maggie went to bed at 3:00 am that night, she felt better than she has felt for months. She wrote a complete new story she knew would be a success online and for her writing's application.  She wrote a story about a robot. Engineered to study human interactions and patterns of conduct for a government issued study. Everything was going well until he met a girl, and he fell in love. Only he didn't know that because he was not supposed to have emotions.

Maggie was thrilled with her new idea, but it was still raw. After four hours she had written two introductory chapters for the main love story. How the robot was made, how successful it had been for months until he walked into a coffee shop and saw the barista. 

After that it was still blank. She needed more. Some way or another, she was going to find this boy and study him. He could be her ticket to her dream.