Page 51 of Give Me a Shot

“A Ren Faire sounds like fun,” the doctor said.

“Well…” Jess hadn’t meant to lead her back to Cassie. “It can be, I’m sure. It’s not really my thing. I’m just doing it to support the organization putting it on.”

“Ah,” the doctor had said. “That would make it more of a stressor, then. And stresscanmanifest as pain. Let’s see what the blood work tells us.”

Stress as pain? Tension, okay. But pain in specific places? Weird.

—

Standing in front of her open closet that evening, hands on her hips, Jess grumbled under her breath. She felt good about what she’d accomplished that day, from the doctor to the blood draw to the stack of papers she’d finally finished grading. The current task on her plate should have been easy. But she hadn’t had a first date in years and was out of her depth on what to wear the following evening.

“Sty,” she said. “Help me out.”

He jumped down from the foot of her bed and ambled up beside her to face the closet. Jess pulled out a black skirt and green T-shirt. She held them up to herself and looked in the mirrored door. “What do you think?” she asked Steinem.

He raised one of his paws to clean the pads.

“Right,” Jess said. “It’s a dinner date. This is a little casual.”

She replaced those options and chose a pair of pants and blouse that she’d worn to a conference. She’d felt confident in the outfit but caught Steinem’s wide yawn in the mirror.

“Seriously?” she asked him.

He looked away.

“For someone with so many opinions on everything, you sure aren’t being helpful right now,” she said, stuffing the clothes back in her closet. Steinem wrapped himself around her legs and she bent to pick him up.

“Sorry, Sty Sty,” she said, cradling him and scratching his upturned stomach. “Guess I’m a little anxious.” He began purring, and Jess’s stress stepped down a few notches. “And this isn’t your area of expertise. I shouldn’t ask for fashion help from someone who looks so elegant just walking around naked all day.”

She booped his nose with hers before gently returning him tohis original spot on her bed. She’d get better help from Alice and Stephanie during their call in an hour.

—

After eating dinner, Jess settled in her bed with her laptop in advance of the video call. She had an email about one of her published articles to reply to, but it took much less time than she’d expected, so she sat there, a little lost for what to do to pass the time. She was checking a news website for the latest headlines when the word “sensitive” caught her eye.

Shit. I forgot.

She typed “Highly Sensitive Person” into a browser. A preview of the first result raised her eyebrows.

Neurodivergence?

“HSPs are neurodivergent individuals whose central nervous systems are significantly more reactive than those of neurotypical people…”The rest of the information in the article was essentially what he’d told her about himself, but he hadn’t used the term “neurodivergent.” Jess didn’t know much about neurodivergence beyond what she figured was common knowledge about autism or ADHD. If Mo was neurodivergent, his empathy and sensitivity weren’t personality traits. His brain literally functioned differently from most people’s. If they were going to date, she wanted to respect that. It must have been difficult and burdensome to exist in a world that didn’t understand that difference and interpreted Mo’s behavior as choices he was making, rather than logical responses to the structure of who he was.

She opened a Word file and began taking notes.

—

By the time her reminder alarm about the video call went off, Jess had six tabs with scholarly research reports and articles open in her browser and a page full of notes. She didn’t want to stop, had always adored doing research, but she definitely needed to talk to her friends. She opened the video app. Steinem hopped up on the foot of the bed and began his lazy walk toward her.

“Well, Sty, if they’re going to help me figure out what to wear, I have to tell them why.”

He ambled up to her side and sat down, tilting his head up. Jess started scratching his throat as he had asked.

“They might give me a hard time, you know,” she said. “Since I was resistant to the idea of dating.”

Steinem started purring and turned his head a little so she could scratch the side. She chewed her lip a little. Understanding a little more about Mo also required a stronger attention to the impact her words or behaviors could have on him.

“I mean, it’s not like he’s a super fragile flower or something,” she said to Steinem. “He’s a grown man who’s been managing his sensitivity his whole life.”

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