Page 42 of In the Middle of No(ah)where
"You sure you're okay?" He checks in again.
"Yeah. I'm okay. I slip my clothes back on and lean over to give Marcus a kiss before we head out. "Thank you, Daddy."
19
Marcus
The air is thick with the scent of sweat, cheap pizza, and hundreds of different anxieties. Deciding on a college and attending tours and open houses is an exciting time for most high school seniors. It represents a new era in their life. A new chapter. However, this open house feels less triumphant and more like a chaotic, sensory-overloaded hurricane. The bulletin board is overfilled with flyers for every type of club imaginable, groups of current students hanging out while checking in prospective students, and a cacophony of shouts and greetings fills the air. The sheer scale of the campus—a sprawling maze of brick buildings and manicured lawns—would be enough to induce a full-blown panic attack for even me, and I attended a larger university for my two degrees.
What is my poor boy going through in his head? Glancing over at Noah, his eyes are wide, and a grin plasters his face. Not what I was expecting. "You okay?" I ask.
Uncontrollable laughter escapes him.
"This is a shit show," he lets out another bark of laughter. "It's like the chaos in my brain decided to make itself known to everyone." I smile back at him, and he reaches for my hand. "Do you think we can just do our own thing and avoid…this?"
"I think avoiding this eighteenth hole of mini golf is a splendid idea."
We make our way up to an information booth, and I explain our situation. The young woman is overly friendly withNoah until she sees his hand in mine. Her eyes locked on the connection for a minute before she clears her throat.
"Here is a campus map," she begins in a tone that is more professional than necessary. "The student union is the building behind me; across the street is the main administration offices where you will file for financial aid, register for classes, you know, that sort of thing. Then, to the left are the dorms, interspersed with our science major buildings, and to the right are the liberal arts buildings and additional dorms. The rest will be easy to follow on the map." She says, handing us a small tote bag with college paraphernalia swag–pens, notepad, and coupons.
"Thank you so much." Noah takes the bag from her, and we head toward the main administration building to look around.
"What would you like to see first?" I ask.
"Well… I've been thinking. Since I like space so much, I thought I would get a degree in astronomy. There isn't much I can do with it, but if I like it, I can always get my bachelor's degree in astronomy. I think it would be fun and something of interest." Noah has been tossing around degrees with me for a few weeks. I know he loves his job at Steamed, and he says that being a shift manager feels like the right fit. I mention a hospitality degree, but I don't want to discourage him from something he wants. Besides, the hospitality major would need to be completed at the larger campus, which is a couple of hours away, and he would need to move.Neither of us is ready for that. Especially since we just found each other again.
We get to tour a few of the science buildings and the campus planetarium. Noah is thrilled when he learns that the students in the program can schedule private use of the telescope. After touring more of the college and talking to several students in the program, we make our way back to the main building. On theway there, I stop at a small building set off to the side. When Noah looks up, he frowns.
"It doesn't have the stigma you think it does," I reassure him.
"But I'm not disabled." He retorts.
"Your brain is." I hold my hand up to stop his rant. "You have a hard time focusing, and sometimes it gets a bit chaotic."
"But you help me with that."
"Yes. But I don't think you want me spanking you while you're sitting in class. Do you?" I smirk at him.
"New fantasy unlocked." He smiles back.
"This office can help you get the accommodations you need to be successful."
"Like the stuff you mentioned before–More time. Quiet testing place. That sort of stuff?"
"Exactly. But there are a lot of other things that are availableifyou need them." But if he can eliminate distractions, Noah will do just fine. I'm so proud of him for even taking this step.
Once we get the paperwork from the office and a few brochures, I can tell by Noah's demeanor that he's overstimulated. I want to get him into a quiet space so he can decompress.
"Puppy?"
"Yeah, Daddy?"
Yep. I figured he was slipping into middle space, and I needed to make the decisions. He doesn't have much at my house except a new drawing pad and some pencils.
"When we get back to your place, I want you to take a shower and get into your pajamas."
"But it's only three o'clock," he tells me, confused.
