Carter's POV

Carter is 17, Gracie is 22

I started playing cards because it was exciting. So exciting that for the time I was at the card table, betting my shirt, I could think of nothing else but the game.

Even the most exciting things become dull with familiarity. Even a Jaffa's poker face is easy for a mind reader to read.

"Carter!" Gracie's voice calls to me. Even the angry voice of my sister doesn't pierce the fog of the thing I do not want to think about. "You get out of this place right now!" She demands. There is a threat underneath her words. She's threatening to tell these people I'm underage. But she isn't going to do it. She's caught me gambling countless times, and has turned me over neither to police, management, or parents.

"Let me finish the hand," I say.

A wave of smoke blows toward her. Usually this would make her look annoyed, today it makes her look worried, "Carter," she says with an edge of panic in her voice.

"Alright already, coming," I say grudgingly.

"What is wrong?" I ask examining my sister's face once we are outsidde. "You need me to use the healing device? Are you sick?" I ask.

"I'm fine," she says.

"You look week," I push.

"We weren't going to tell anyone yet," she says, "But you see too much. Go ahead, and look in my mind," she says.

I haven't been inside of Gracie's mind in a long time. She hates me to be in there, and I hate being in there just as much. But I look inside. It isn't in words, a lot of people's thoughts are images and feelings. Gracie's thoughts right now are something that looks like an ultrasound, and unbelievable happiness, and Gracie's hand on her own stomach."

I grin, "Congratulations Grace! Is Zach over the moon?" Gracie and Zach only got married half a year ago, and I'm not sure if this kid is planned. But I do know Grace is happy. I can feel her happiness, and she is very happy.

"Yeah, we weren't expecting on having a kid quite this soon. But once we heard about it…" she grins.

I think about the kid, and suddenly I gasp.

"What?" Grace asks.

"I read the babies thoughts for a second," I say.

"What do babies who do not quite have brains yet think about?" she asks. You would think she was mocking me, but she wasn't.

"It wasn't thoughts, you know it's not normally thoughts Grace. But it was different than reading an adult's brain too. It was more like a presence, a sign announcing 'I am here.'"

Gracie grins, "Thanks for that, Carter." Then she gets serious, "I came here to ask you to spend a week with us at our house."

"Why?" I ask suspiciously.

"Because I love you, and I think you could use some time away from your 'friends'. I know we're only a half hour away, but I think it would be good for you.:

"You are nesting, and you need someone to mother hen Gracie. In case you forgot, I already have a mother," I say.

"Right, so I'll just let her know why I'm concerned about you. Let her take care of it," she says.

"Gracie we both know you aren't a tattle tale, so let's drop it," I say.

"There is a fine line between tattling and intervention," she says.

"Gracie," I say drawing the word out.

"Carter, you graduated from school years early. Great. Then for the past six months you have been gambling. Gambling and doing nothing. Carter you should be in school, a job, a hobby."

"Gambling is a hobby," I say.

She glares at me, "So help me I will tell Mom you are not volunteering at that special ed school mom thinks you are at when you are gambling."

I look away, "I go to that school Gracie."

"You do?" she asks. "That's good. Do you like it?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I say.

"Right, confidentiality," she says, smiling, "I'm glad you are doing something with your life, but that's ten hours a week. It's not exactly a life plan."

"Grace, drop it," I say.

She pauses, "Look, Carter, I'm no mind reader," bad joke I think, "but I know something has been bothering you for a while. Will you tell me what it is?"

"Gracie," I say taking her hands, "These can fix a lot of people. They can't fix me. So focus on someone you can," I say tossing the hands away from me.

"Hey, you are my brother," she says.

I sit down. "Gracie, I've been reading minds again." I say.

"While gambling," she continues.

"No…" I say slowly, "At the special ed school."

She make a face, but I can tell she's trying not to be judgmental, "You are reading those kid's minds?"

"She's my age," I say. She locks eyes with me, and she's beging to get it, but she doesn't yet. "Her name is Annie. She's non-verbal. That means she doesn't talk. But inside of her head…It's beautiful, Grace. She's smart. She paints inside of her head. She talks with the paintings. No one has ever understood her, and I do. But I can't tell anyone why I understand her. Why I know she's screaming because she wants a book or a snack. And I can't really talk to her. I can only talk to her in words, and she barely understand words."

I look into Gracie's eyes and she really gets it, "Are you in love with her?" she asks.

"Yes, but I don't even know…I mean inside her brain, she doesn't even know I exist," I say.

"Carter, that is awful!" she says touching my arm. I nod. "But it isn't a reason to waste your life."

"Grace, I don't know what I want to do with my life. The only thing I've ever been good at is poker. So I'm playing some poker until I get my life figured out."

"Carter," she laughs, "You are good at a lot of things. You were a star student. I guarantee you'd do great in college."

"I don't want to go to college until I know what I'm going to college for," I tell her.

"Ok, that's actually a smart plan, but you are good at a lot of other things. You are great with people. Great at making people feel comfortable. Great at convincing them. Great a teaching them. You could be a psychologist, or a teacher, or a lawyer, or a businessman."

"Gracie…" I try to interrupt.

"Or a diplomat."

"Hey, Grace, are you going to keep working at the SGC now that you have a baby on the way?" I ask.

"Quit trying to change the subject," she says, "If you like working at the school, maybe you should…"

"Gracie, it isn't the school that make it fun. It's being with one particular person."

"Ok, Carter, I'm just worried about you. I get that you are trying to find yourself, but I just don't want you to be looking for ever."

"Ok, Grace," I say with a smile. She gives me a hug, and leaves. It's two hours before my usual volunteer hours, but I don't really feel like gambling around after that conversation, so I head to the school.

Mrs. Grene greets me at the door, "Thank goodness you are here!" she exclaims, "Anna is panicking and we don't know why.

I don't even have to read her mind to figure out some of the reasons why she's freaking out. She's in a corner screaming and rocking, and there are three adults standing by her. People with autism often hate crowds to begin with, and this has got to be intimating.

"Let me," I say with a disarming smile. They let me through, and I tell her, "Anna, I'm going to touch your shoulder." When she is warned before you touch her she actually likes the touch. Otherwise it is sure to make her go berserk. Actually the different ways she responds to touch with and without warning is one of the few ways we know for sure she understands some of the language she hears.

When my fingers first make contact with her shoulder it is tense, but it relaxes under my touch. I started to feel her thoughts when I crossed into the same side of the room. It is full of terror, and pain, and a sound. What is that sound?

"Was someone using the pencil sharpener?" I ask. Another student gave me a sheepish look. "OK, you are going to have to move that to another room. It terrifies her."

One of the teachers moves it away. "It ok, Anna," I tell her, "The noise won't happen again."

Her eyes lock on mine. Eye contact, something she never gives to anyone but me, she gave me that the very first day I met her. "Carter," she says with her mouth. Her first word. With her brain she says more: trust, happy, thank you.

"Carter," she repeats clearly expecting a response.

"Anna," I say.

She giggles a huge smile crossing her face, "Carter," she says.

Quickly I reply, "Anna." It's a silly game. But a game with words and eye contact. Two things her file says she'd never do.

It's time for me to leave, but I didn't think I gave any sign of it. I don't glance at the clock or the door, but I must have had some give away. Because she looks at the clock, thinks an image of me leaving, and says my name with sadness, "Carter."

"Anna, I have to go home now," I say.

She shakes her head, "Carter," she insists.

"How about I stay until you leave?" I ask.

She smiles at me. I help her with her math. Counting, adding, and subtracting. After each number that is written in her perfect handwriting she looks at me, desperate for approval. "That is right, Anna," I reward her. She rewards me with a burst of joy at my praise.

A woman comes in. She's young and strong, and she heads right over to Anna, "It's time to go home," she says.

Anna grabs on to my arm, and says, "Carter!"

Her mother opens her eyes wide, "Anna you spoke, wonderful!"

Anna hides her face.

"Anna!" I say.

She peeks out from under her fingers and says, "Carter!"

"You are Carter?" she asks, "The teachers have said you've been amazing for my daughter!"

I blush a little at her words, and shake the hand she extends toward me.

"I can't believe Anna says your name. She doesn't talk," I say.

"I know, but she can say an awful lot without words," I say.

She cocks her head, "That is something I've been saying for years, but most people don't believe me."

"Anna, you have to go home now," I say.

She smiles, "Carter?"

"Yeah, I'll be here tomorrow. I have to enjoy these words you are throwing at me."

As Anna's mother turns I see a scar on the back of her neck, and I think I know what it means. Her hand goes to the scar self-consciously when she sees my eyes upon it.

"Do you work at Cheyenne Mountain, by any chance?" I ask.

She nods.

"Deep space telepathy?" I ask.

There is a slightly suspicious intake of breath as she nods again.

"My parents too, and…my mom has a scar like that," It's not technically true. Mom doesn't actually have a scar. But the thing that makes scars like that happened to her as well as it did to this women.

"Who is your mother?" she asks with a narrowing of the eyes.

"Samantha O'Neill," I say.

She raises an eyebrow, "You're the General's boy?"

"Yes, ma'am," I say.

"You'll have to tell her Colonel Elliot says hi. Your mother…actually took quite an interest in my when I was a snooty little Cadet Hailey."

"I'll make sure to tell her," I say.

"And your father is…well the other General O'Neill correct?" she continues.

I nod.

"Well, I wouldn't expect anything less than amazing from two fine officers like your parents. You thinking of joining the Air Force yourself?" she asks.

I try not to show the slight distain I've developed for the military, and its tendency to make family events difficult. "No Ma'am, can't say I've given it to much thought, but I don't really know what I'm going to do with my life yet."

"Well, it seems any field would be lucky to have you. Those are some good genetics," she says.

Genetics.

That night at dinner

"Did you see your sister today?" There is an edge of worry in Mom's voice as he puts about twice as many vegetables on my plate as I would ever eat.

"Yep, got the patented Gracie, "figure out your life," lecture," I say.

"She's just worried about you," Dad says in a ways which clearly implies they all are.

"A girl at the school, she talked for the first time, today," I say it partly to change the subject of course, but I also need to tell someone about Anna's accomplishments.

"Yeah, what did she say?" Mom asks only have interested.

"My name," I say. Both my parents look up at me in surprise.

"That's great!" Mom says.

"Sounds like you are really making a difference," Dad says with a grin.

"Yeah, well Anna and I are friends," I say. "I meet her mom today. She works at the SGC, name is Colonel Elliot."

"Really? You are working with Elliot's daughter?" Mom says. "I used to sort of be her mentor. But once she made Major, and had her daughter, and I took the year off to stay with you-"she points her fork at me, "we sort of lost touch. I mean she works for me of course, but I don't see her more than any of my other subordinates," Mom says.

"Yeah, she said you really helped her out when she was young. And she seemed to have a little hero worship for Dad,"

Dad gets a puffed up proud face at that comment, and if I'm not mistaken Mom looks a little jealous.

"You know, I think we should have them over for dinner. It's her and her husband, and how many daughters did they have Jack?"

Dad is still gloating, because someone called him a hero. If anyone knew what he'd done with his career they'd be calling him that all the time, "Three?" he asks.

"Something like that. The oldest was born not long after Jennifer got back from that…." Mom suddenly remembers I'm in the room, "that really unfortunate incident on that planet."

Dad nods, not at all jarred by the sudden slip into code. "Yes, I remember the timing was so close we were all worried…well, that the child wasn't entirely terrestrial."

"Guys, I have to ask you…I mean I saw Anna's mom's scar," I say touching the part of my neck where Gou'ald enter the host, "Was that before she had kids?" I ask.

Mom nods.

"Ok, her kids have naquada? I mean, were they tested for special talents?" I ask.

"Her husband doesn't have the ancient gene," Dad says.

"What about Jennifer?" I ask.

Four eyes fix themselves on me in shock, "Oh, my God we never tested Jennifer!" Mom says.

"The kids are all young enough they wouldn't be showing their powers yet, right?" Dad asks.

I shake my head, "I don't know about her sisters, but Anna is my age."

"But she's in a special school, she doesn't have special powers," Mom says, "I mean…we'd know, it's not like she'd be able to hide them."

"Unless she reads minds, and she can't tell us, because she can't talk."

Four stunned eyes on me, "You think she reads minds?"

"The thought did cross my mind," I say.

"Did you read her reading your mind?" Mom asks, and even with her strange words I know exactly what she meant.

"Nothing quite that concrete. It's more like she knows things no one ever told her. More like she knows far more about me than she knows about anyone else. Like…I don't know like our brains are both running on a different computer hardware than the rest of the world. Like I'm the only one who is compatible with her."

Mom's forehead furrows at this. She heard in this statement something that I didn't say. She doesn't like that I'm in love with a non verbal autistic girl. Whose Mom would be?

"Maybe she just connects with you, because you can read her mind," Dad says.

"Of course, that is part of it…but…and the way she looks at me. I don't know. And when I first started going, reading her mind was the same as reading anyone else's mind. It was like I was taking information. At some point it started to be like she was giving information. I don't know quite how to explain it, but it's almost like she knows what I'm doing. That she's trying to help me do it."

Mom gives a worried glance to Dad. I hate that it's a worried glance. It makes me feel like what Grace calls herself, "freak". Would it be a bad thing if the world had three more kids with ancient powers? A little telepathy or telekinesis, or healing hands wouldn't be a bad thing would it? I'm not a bad thing am I?

But the truth is it is hard to be different. I mean Grace has done well with it, but really she won the ancient powers jackpot. She gets to make sick people well. She saves people coming through the gate with alien diseases and wounds from angry alien weapons. She saves people no one else can.

I have a gift that isn't a signpost to the rest of my life. I feel like I've been given this huge gift, and I'm wasting it. I worry about it a lot. If I wasn't the only one with this gift-even if Anna could never use it-I would still feel better. Like, I'm not the only freak! Besides, Anna has two sisters.

A week later

Grace has given me the "do something with your life" lecture more times than I can count. I really don't know why it sunk in this time when all the other times it fell on deaf ears, but it worked. Grace got under my skull, and I've become a productive member of society. Sort of. Anyway I've started spending all of every workday volunteering at the special school. And, much to my parents (particularly mom's) delight I've filled out some college aps. Even with a year off I'll still be heading to college a year early. I figured special educator is something I can do.

Summer break is less than a month away, so my productive citizen bit will fall apart when that comes. There are a few kids who go to the school in the summer, so I'll probably come sometimes, but…none of them are Anna.

Anna's mom is at the door. When she sees me she touches the Gou'ald entry scar. It's a habit she does every time she sees me. I hate to be a reminder of the worse moment in someone's life. God, I hope that was the worst moment in her life.

"Hi!" she says with a smile. But it turns to worry pretty quick, "Carter, you Mom wants me to take Anna to the infirmary in Cheyenne mountain? Do you know what that is about?" And I fell such intense worry I think I'm going to throw up. I really try not to read parent's minds, because I can't take the intensity of worry. I am so not ready to be a parent, yet. Probably never, if they go around feeling like that. Although, I've felt parental pride too, and I've got to admit…that is something I don't want to miss out on.

"Probably just a routine…" I say.

She shakes her head, "When Anna was born…" she says looking away, "It's not about that is it?"

I bite my lip. I don't know how to answer her exactly. I don't just mean I don't know whether to lie or not. I mean I don't know if this has to do with what happened, because I don't know what it is.

"I think they are just wondering if…if there are any side effects from something you might have been exposed to in the field," I respond glancing at the scar.

Her eyes go wide, "I heard something about you having some side effects," she says carefully. I think this might have been the first time she connected who I was with the fact that I must be the boy with super powers she heard about. I wonder if anyone told her what the super powers were.

"Not particularly bad ones," I say with a smile.

"Thanks, I was..." she says.

"worried, I know." I say.

"I'll bet you did," she says. Good, she does know I'm a mind reader. "But I wanted to ask you something else. What are your summer plans, Carter?" she asks.

Ok, my summer plans involve finally reading my mom's wormhole book, fishing, and memorizing the jokes in family guy. Not what you want to tell the mother of the girl you are in love with though, "Uh…they aren't really firmed up yet."

"I was wondering," she says, "Don't feel like you have to, ok?" she says. Nervousness is my least favorite emotion to accidently read. I suppose it is because I always feel like it is my fault. If I put them properly at ease they wouldn't feel that way. "I mean, you are so good with Anna. You've made more progress with her in the few weeks you have been at this program than she made in the rest of her life all together. I was planning on hiring a private tutor for her this summer. I just thought…I mean I think you'd be perfect for the job."

I bite my lip. Being paid to teach Anna? It sounded almost too good to be true. "Carter," Anna says. I make a point of responding every time Anna says something, since words are so new for her. But this time I do not turn or say a word.

"Carter, yes!" she says stomping her foot.

I turn to her and smile, "Yes, Anna, I'll be your teacher this summer," I say.

"Don't let her bully you into it," her mom says with a laugh.

I take her chin in my hand, "Anna, you can bully me any time you wants, as long as you use the beautiful words."

"Yes, Carter," she says, and I swear her inflection has a touch of sarcasm in it.

A week later

Grace's voice is a little strained on the phone, "Carter." My stomach falls, who is hurt? Teal'c? He's old but Jaffa don't get old the same way that we do so he's still fighting on the front lines. Daniel? He is doing real archeological work on safe planets, but if ever there was a person who could get hurt on a "safe" planet it would be our Daniel. God, it could be mom, the base isn't exactly what you'd call safe.

"Carter, did you hear me?" she asks.

"No, I'm sorry, just hurry up and tell me who is hurt," she says.

"You are a bad guesser for a mind reader," she says. "No one is hurt. Uh…Anna is here though. Her mom took her in for a check-up. She has the ancient gene."

"So she must have one of the powers," I say.

"Right, and your instincts must have been right about the mind reading, because people would have noticed anything else," she says.

"Yeah," I say. It's usually pretty hard to read someone's mind over the phone. That's why Grace likes to talk to me that way. She says it puts her on equal footing. But today I'm getting a feeling. It's hope rolled in caution. In other words the kind of hope that doctors give away. "What is it, Grace?" I ask.

"She has naquada in her blood," Grace says.

"Of course she does! Kind of what happens when one of your parents is a former Gou'ald host,"

"Actually it is what happens when your mother is a former Gou'ald host. If your father is a Gou'ald host the naquada transferred by the sperm is so small it is not noticeable. When your mother is the former host you have nine months to absorb her blood through your umbilical cord. I'm sorry I'm boring you," she says.

"Not at all. It's actually sort of fascinating. But you were telling me what is wrong with Anna."

"She has a lot more naquada in her blood that you or I. Actually a lot more even than a former host has. Even more than a Tok'ra."

"What?"

"Carter, naquada is a heavy medal. It's been poisoning her brain."

"What?" I nearly shout.

"It isn't dangerous is small quantities like you or I. They mistakenly thought that all children of mothers who were hosts had the same levels. They didn't test. It was stupid," she says.

"Something that will not happen once they put you in charge," I tease. Grace is modest so she tries to brush away teasing like that, but the truth be told she will no doubt take control of that place someday. Probably after she raises a couple of kids, but she's already pretty qualified.

"We're taking the naquada out of her blood, right now," Grace says.

"That is possible?" I ask.

"Yeah, we've known how to do it the whole time. It's a sort of modified kidney dialysis machine. But we never saw any reason it do it, because naquada offers some pretty great benefits without any side effects besides having the SGC as your main doctor.

"Not a side effect with you working at the SGC," I say. I'm always trying to boast Gracie's self-esteem; she is a bit short in that department. It suddenly occurs to me that Grace has Uncle Daniel's self-esteem. I'll have to remember to tease them about that one.

"The point is," she says with a voice edged in annoyance, "We might be able to cure her."

"Cure her mind reading?" I ask with a knot in the pit of my stomach. I'm something that needs to be cured?

"No, you idiot, cure you autism," she says. I'm stunned. Too stunned to actually believe her.

"So you are telling me everyone with autism has an overdose of an alien element in their blood. You think that would be a little hard to keep out of the news."

"No, I'm saying this one case of autism like behavior is caused by an overdose of a heavy medal in her blood. Now don't get your hopes up. Heavy medals are a difficult things. She's had this poison in her body her whole life. There could very easily be permanent damage. And if she doesn't have the language…even if she is cured this late in life…"

"She has language…she understands language," I say. I hope I am right. I hope she wasn't just reading people's minds the whole time.

"Right, but just don't get your hopes up too much. But we're taking the medal out right now."

"Can I see her?" I ask.

"You know, her mom actually asked me to invite you. But…you didn't ask why she had so much naquada in her blood."

"I just figured, because her mom got pregnant so soon after being a host."

"Her mom was pregnant when she was taken over," Grace said.

"I thought that resulted in a miscarriage," I say. I'm not sure if the image that popped into my brain was from my own brain, that of my sister's, or someone's brain. That is the hard part of mind reading. But the image is powerful. There is a little baby-at the stage where it still looks like a strange alien fish baby-and its whole body is taut. It's fighting, it's trying to live. "Wow," I say.

"What did you see?" Grace asks.

"She was a fighter," I say.

"Yeah, I don't know how she would have survived that. She never should have. Jennifer says that she thought for sure she must have got pregnant after the Tok'ra removed her Gou'ald from her. She didn't think there was anyway a baby could have survived a blending, let alone the torture. But now that she thinks about it the Tok'ra did spend a bit of time with a healing device on her stomach after they got that Gou'ald out of her. She just never bothered to ask what it meant, back then," she says.

"Well, I'm guessing she was fairly traumatized at the time," I say.

"Right, and when a blending takes places there is a rush of naquada…" Gracie starts.

"So she's the baby who wasn't supposed to live, and you're telling me there is a tiny chance she's going to come out of this perfectly fine. Seventeen years later, but perfectly fine?" I ask.

"Small chance," she says, "more likely you'll have an exciting summer watching slow but steady improvements.

"I'll take that," I said. "So our naquada…"

"Is perfectly safe, but you can have it removed if you want," Grace says.

"Who is going to save you if you need a healing device, then? Besides, I can't pass it on to my kids. But you can heal anyway, and you could pass it on to your kids, so maybe you should consider it. But oh god, it's too late anyway, isn't it? I'm sorry, I'm a jerk!"

Gracie laughs, "Don't think I didn't consider it, Carter, but I decided to have a kid with naquada blood and the ancient gene. I figured these gifts are worth passing on, don't you?"

And for the first time-someone choose this. Chooses this not for themselves, but for their kid which is the most powerful kind of choosing there is. I know this because, I've felt a parent's love, and…and Gracie choose freakdom for her baby. I feel ok for the first time in a long time.

Early the next morning

I finally convinced her parents to go home. I told them I'd take the night shift. She was mostly sleeping. Mostly calm when awake after I convinced them to get the blinking machines out of there, so she stopped screaming.

"Carter," she says.

"Yes Anna, I'm here," I say.

She blinks at me as if she's confused. I'm thinking of how to put what they are doing to her into words she can understand. She looks at me, "Where did the cloud go?"

I'm so shocked at the amount of words I can't even try to understand or respond.

"The cloud, that choked out other people's thoughts. That scrambled their words. Where did the cloud go?" she asks again.

"You had heavy medal poisoning," she looks at me confused, "You had bad stuff in your blood. It hurt your mind."

Her forehead is furrowed, "The cloud was only mine? You do not have a cloud?" she asks examining my face.

"No," I say.

She shakes her head, "You…you are the melter of clouds."

"No, I'm a mind reader, like you," I say.

"No, cloud melter, Carter," she says with certainty. There doesn't seem to be anything else to say, but I am desperate for her to talk. For me to know how well she can talk.

"Do you know where you are?" I ask her.

Her eyes dart around, "Sickgone," she says as if it was one word.

"The hospital, where people go to get better," I correct.

"Yes, Carter, sickgone," she says as if she is trying to teach ME a word."

"No, it's actually called a hospital," I say.

She shrugs her shoulders, "sickgone."

Three months later

Gracie was right about having an interesting summer watching Anna make slow but steady gains. I spent eight or more hours a day over at her house. I got to know her parents, and her younger sisters, one of whom started prophesying over the summer.

Anna has finally gotten more flexible in her use of language. She observed some language, and invented most of her own language in those long years she was trapped inside of her own brain, because of a heavy medal induced fog. It took awhile to convince her that, "tree dogs," were called "monkeys," "sleepplaces" were called "beds" and "readpapers" were called "books." But at some point her trust of me became so great she learned new words.

We worked on reading and writing. At the beginning of the summer she could barely sound out words. By the end of the summer we were discussing the literary merits of The Lion the Which and the Wardrobe and Where the Red Fern Grows that she read aloud to me. We spent the summer learning to write good essays, and stories. But poems full of metaphors came easy to her. Before the "cloud was melted" math had been her strength. At the beginning of the summer she had already mastered all math up to long division. By the end of the summer she could do the beginnings of algebra. She was almost eighteen by the time school began, but kids with disabilities can stay in school until they turn 21, so she still three years of high school left. She'd been in special classes at a special school since she entered school. So in the fall when she entered regular classes for the first time it felt like her first day of school. I walked her to the front door of my old school. My stomach was aching. I would be leaving for college tomorrow. I never told her.

"Carter," she says carefully turning to me. I nod to her. Her language is so normal she doesn't need me to respond to every word in order to keep talking, so I just nod. "I feel the same way," she says with a smile.

"What?" I ask not daring to hope she meant what I thought she meant.

She leans forward, "I love you, Carter, and when I'm worthy of you we will be together."

"You have been worthy of me ever since we met," I say.

"I love that you really believe that, Carter," she says. And then the woman I love gives me my first kiss. It's perfect.