40 tension dissipates from my lungs. “Also, can we pray for conversation with people?” Evilyn proposes. “It can be difficult, especially with the language barrier.” Olivia nods, and I nod too. I’m thankful I didn’t have to be the one to bring it up. Nod one, two, three times. Steady fingers. Feet flat on the ground. “Yeah, I don’t always know how to react to people,” Olivia adds, and Evilyn nods. I was too focused on her words and Evilyn’s affirmation to nod. They struggle to know how to react to people? Something flutters in my chest. That’s… how I feel. All the time. Maybe I wasn’t alone in this. Maybe they could finally understand. “Right?” I exclaim as excitement foams over my lips. “And sometimes when people are talking about something, I don’t know how much empathy to show, you know?” There’s a pause, and then they break into laughter. My mouth dries. Smile. Macaroni noodle. Not enough. Looks fake. Squint the corners of your eyes so they know you mean it. Hold it. Don’t let it slip. Press your fingers onto the table. Push your feet into the carpet. Don’t move. Hold it. Don’t let it slip. “Oh, no, I don’t know what that’s like.” Evilyn’s laughter peters out. “But we can pray for that too.” We bow our heads and Evilyn leads us in prayer. But I can’t focus. My hands twitch in their pleading pose. I don’t know how to feel. I’m disappointed—but not surprised—that I don’t have the connection I thought I did. But… there wasn’t anything malicious in their laughter. Or in Evilyn’s voice when she said she’d pray for me. She didn’t lie or sugarcoat anything, but her tone was still warm and sweet with laughter. And that’s… new.
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