"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLA"

I heard the scream from the kitchen as I tried to fix a decent breakfast. Automatically, my heart began to race and my palms got moist.

Matthew.

I dropped the blueberries I was pulling out of our small refrigerator and barely noticed how the plastic box burst open, scattering berries across the floor. I raced up the stairs and into my brothers room in record time, yelling to him that it's okay, it's okay.

As I rounded the corner, expecting the worst, I felt my panic lessen. His door was wide open, a pile of clothes at his feet. He wasn't having a fit. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and walked into his room, stepping over the pile of clothes, to sit on his bed. He sat next to me.

"What's the matter, baby boy?" I said softly, looking up at his face. I couldn't say the wrong thing. He was obviously agitated. I didn't touch him or look him in the eyes. I tried to stay still. "You scared me"

"I can't find my blue shirt" he breathed and I felt myself relax. I put my hand on his shoulder and smiled slightly.

"I just cleaned it" I said and his eyes snapped to mine. It's kind of rare when he looks at me directly and the few times he does, it's usually shocking. He has our mom's eyes. Deep, blue… piercing. "Let me go get it"

I almost trip down the steps while makes me quietly laugh at myself. For falling and also for overreacting. I grab his shirt from the dryer and run back up to Matt's room. As I handed him the shirt, a line formed in between his eyebrows.

"It has buttons" he says, monotone. His left leg starts to fidget.

"Just one" I say back quickly and sit back down on the bed "And you don't even have to button it" I continue "You can leave it open and it will be like its not even there"

"Why wouldn't I button it?" he asks "That can't be right"

"Do you trust me?" I ask and study him closely as he nods his head. I smile "Then come on. Put it on"

He stands up and pulls the shirt over his head. When the shirt's on he turns to me, smiling nervously, and brings his arm up to touch the back of his neck. I stand up and walk until I'm standing in front of him. Matt's about two inches taller than I am already, and I can already imagine what it'll be like when he towers over me like most other people do. I put my hands on his shoulders, straightening out his sleeves and his collar and making a point to un-button the one small button on the neck of his light blue polo.

That made him grimace.

I turned him around to face the full body mirror next to his door. The thing had countless cracks and breaks from Matty's fits, but you could still see in it fine. As he looked himself over, I watched him too. His sandy blonde hair was tousled, like always, and his eyes were calculating. I was used to seeing this look on his face, features set, and eyes searching. His shirt is plain blue; he won't wear anything but plain colors, and he wore khaki shorts. I smile at his reflection and when he sees it through the mirror he turns to face me again.

"I guess that's not so bad" he said, trying to smile. Just hearing him say this, I'm elated.

"Matty! Good for you, baby! Compromise!" I say my voice higher than usual. I know I'm smiling like mad and maybe freaking him out but I can't help it. My baby boy is learning, slowly but surely, to communicate and connect with people.

I suppose I should explain. Matthew is my brother. He's almost thirteen years old. At age two, my brother was diagnosed with mild Asperger's syndrome. Aspergers is an Autism spectrum disorder that affects Matt's social skills. He is not able to connect with others socially. Not because he doesn't want to and not in the way that many teens don't, he wants nothing more than to live a normal life, but he can't. He is almost always anxious. At age 13, he still likes to "play", but his IQ is abnormally high, higher than mine. Matt can't tell when people are angry at him or if he's done something wrong unless someone tells him "Matthew, I am angry at you right now." And he is very literal. For example, if we go visit an aunt or uncle and they say "Matty! You've grown a foot since we last saw you!" he would look down at his feet and reply "No, I still have two" or if you say "I have to talk to you, take a seat" Matt will pick up a chair and say "Take it where?" He's hopeless at reading social clues and expressing himself to others. In addition to all that, Matt is hypersensitive to things like sounds and light. Small things can set him off, send him into fits, like the sound of police sirens or silverware moving on a plate. He is rule-oriented and relies on daily routine to stay calm.

Today is Matt's first day of middle school.

I'm terrified for him; not only is it a change in his routine, but I know what middle school is like. It's almost as bad as high school, especially when you're different. It's hard enough without autism.

At first glance, Matthew is a totally normal pre-teen. I'd even say he's handsome. He looks normal, and talks normal. It what he does and what he says that labels him as weird to the kids at his school.

He is wise beyond his years. Beyond my years, even. And he shows it. That in itself is enough to make him isolated.

I know I sound like a worried mother, but I'm really all he has. And sometimes I feel like his mother. Our mom walked out about a year after Matthew was diagnosed. She said we were all changing and she wanted her family back, and that it was all just too hard for her. I think she just got bored. She moved to Florida with some young baseball player and her replacement family. I wouldn't even know she was alive if it weren't for the child support check we get once a month.

We live with our dad, but when mom left it hit him hardest. I think he still blames Matthew for their divorce. He isolated himself from his only son. It breaks my heart, especially when Matt hardly notices.

Matthew acts differently around me. He smiles and talks more and I think he can tell what I'm feeling, even though any doctor you ask will say he can't interpret other people's feelings. He's actually my best friend. And I'm his. And I think were both okay with that. I'd do anything for him, and I do. I like to think he'd do anything for me.

"Bella" his voice brings me out of my thoughts and I realize I've been looking at him and absently playing with the hair on the top of his head.

"Sorry, Matty" I say and take a step back. "Are you nervous? For school?" I ask as I take in his tapping foot and his shifting eyes. This is how he acts normally around others, but not me.

"I've never had to switch classes before" He says quietly "A new teacher and new classmates for every hour. One was enough"

"I know you'll be fine, baby boy" I say, reaching up to push some hair out of his eyes, but I don't look into them because I know he wont like that. "Just be yourself and I'll bet they'll love you just like I do" I finish and kiss his nose.

I know this isn't true. He can't be himself at school, literally can't. The place makes him crazy, he's told me, he gets distracted by the buzz of the fluorescents and almost looses it when he hears someone scratch their skin or sharpen a pencil. Plus the people…

"I don't think that's going to work, Bella" Matt murmurs. Matt is always brutally honest. I know never to ask him questions like: Do these jeans make by butt look big? Because he will always tell the truth. Always. He can't lie.

"Well, you never know" I smile at him but change the subject "Come on, sweetheart, let's eat breakfast" I grab his hand and lead him down the stairs. I don't really have to lead him anywhere; he could probably walk to California without help if he wanted to. I guess I'm just overprotective. Sue me.

As we walk into the kitchen, Matt gasps.

"What happened in here?" his voice sounds small. I almost panic and automatically bend down to pick up the blueberries off the floor and throw them into the trash bin.

"When you called for me" I explain quickly "I was afraid something was wrong and kinda dropped everything to come help you"

To my immense surprise, Matt just laughs. I look up at him with wide eyes as he bends down to help me pick up the berries.

"Belly, why are you looking at me like that?" he says smoothly.

"Oh! I just thought… never mind. I don't know, baby. Just upset for the berries" That's a lie, and I know he can tell. I thought might have a tantrum.

"Liar" he says but drops the subject. While he sits down at the table, I search the house for blue food that I can give him for breakfast. It's a Tuesday, which means only blue food and blue clothes for Matthew. Tomorrow it will be green, Thursday orange, and so on. I don't understand it, but it keeps Matt at ease so I'm all but willing.

I finally settle on some blueberry yogurt. It's more purple but the containers blue so it should count. I get one for each of us. He eats it in peace and I smile to myself.

When he finishes I look at the clock. It's 6:45. Time to leave. Matt notices too because he gets up to find his shoes and backpack.

Matthew hates my car. I drive an old red truck. Red. Matty hates red, it sets him off. He says red means danger and rhymes with 'dead', therefore makes him anxious. The only reason I can get him anywhere without walking is because you can't see the color from inside.

By the time I get Matt into the passenger seat of the car its 6:51. Matt likes to get to school at 7:03.

On the drive to Fork's Middle School we don't talk. Matt sits eerily still and I wonder if he's calming down his nerves or just trying to force them under the surface.

It doesn't take long to get to his school, but when we arrive I realize that every parent of every other student in this place has decided today was a good day to drive their kids to school. There's a line of about 30 cars in front of mine and more are coming behind us. I sigh and lay my head against the side window.

At the sound of my breath, Matt turns to look at me. I smile at him reassuringly as the line crawls forward and I'm able to move about a foot.

I let my mind drift because Matt isn't talking and nothing happening.

It's not until we're 4 cars from the front of the line that I notice Matt is slapping the outside of his left knee with his hand and looking frantically around.

Oh no.

I look at the clock just as the time changes from 7:05 to 7:06. Just as this happens I hear Matt's sharp intake of breath and I know that were past his breaking point.

Before I can react Matthew is screaming; a loud, high-pitches screech that vibrates the windows and cuts the silence like a blade. He moves blindly, thrashing around like mad.

I throw my foot down on the brake and put the car into park. I know were in the middle of a school parking lot where people are impatient and kids are walking past the car, but that doesn't register as I throw myself out of my seat and roll onto his. I sit in a straddle position, pinning his legs down and grab his arms, pinning those too.

"Matty, Matty, baby? Your okay. Your okay." I say over and over again. I wrestle him back into his original sitting position, but he's still fighting me; thrashing and hitting. I feel his head bang forward and collide with my shoulder bone. "I'd like to be" I sing to him "Under the sea, in an octopus's garden in the shade"

I couldn't tell you why, but ever since he was little Matt liked the sound of this Beatles song. Any Beatles song, really. But this one in particular seems to calm him down best and always bring him back to me. When I asked him why he thought that was, he'd said "Ringo's my favorite Beatle" I'd said "I didn't think Ringo was anybody's favorite" and he'd just replied "Exactly"

At last, Matt's muscles relaxed under mine. Tears run down the corner of his eyes and I lift my right hand to wipe them away. Gently, I grabbed his face in my hands and forced him to look at me.

"Look Matt, we're here. We're right here. Look" I move his head so he can and then bring his eyes right back to mine. "Matty, sweet boy. You're alright. We're here. Come on. Let's go" I open his door and get out of the car. I don't look around me, only right back to Matt. He takes my outstretched hand and starts to climb out of the car. I tell him to close his eyes so he doesn't see the red. I lead him forward a few steps and then stop to turn and look at him.

"See? Are you okay now?" I say to him. He closes his eyes for a second and breathes. When he opens them he nods and I smile brightly at him.

"Cool as a cucumber" He's said that after a fit every since a fight I'd had with our dad about a year ago. I'd been upset and Matt had asked me how I was. I'd said "Cool as a cucumber" I don't know why I said it, or why it made Matty laugh, but it stuck anyhow.

I run to my car to grab his backpack. That's when I notice the people. All the kids and parents within ear shot are gawking. I roll my eyes at them. They don't know anything.

I hand Matt his backpack and he slides it onto his shoulder. His face has returned to its normal color and he's not shaking anymore. I'm relieved.

"I'll see you after school, Bella?" Matt asks me and I nod,

"I will be right here" I reply. I hope he detects the second meaning to my words, though I know he probably can't. He nods and starts to walk toward the school.

As I walk back to my car, I see that many people are still staring. Still.

"He's autistic!" I snap. "You wanna take a picture or somethin?" I know I'm overreacting by yelling like this but people obviously have no manners.

Well, it works. Almost spontaneously, everyone's head snaps down to the ground and then they go back to whatever they were doing.

As I'm driving away from the school, away from Matt, knowing I'm probably going to be late to my own classes, I can only think one thing.

Yeah, my life is hard. Really hard. But I wouldn't trade it for anything.