#defineus

Will was not a happy child. Though from time to time, he would feel content. He was content with routines, and of coming home to his dad not being home yet from work and having to start the stove, and setting his dad's favorite beer on the counter for when he did arrive. He was content with starting his homework immediately afterwards. 

But this time it was different. He turned on the stove quickly, set the beer on the counter and ran to the bedroom with his book bag, hoping to finish his homework before his dad arrived home. Maybe he could finish it so he could go outside beforehand, now that he actually had a reason other than to sit by the lake and that was normally with his dad anyway.

When he did heard the door slam of the one bedroom house, he rose from his desk and saw his father bring in a large cooler, presumably full of fish. Mr. Graham set it besides the stacked boxes that neither he or Will had touched when they moved in, and proceeded to the kitchen. 

"Hey, Willy," said Mr. Graham cheerfully. "How was your day?" Will just assumed he was happy to be home. Cheerful behavior meant nothing. 

Normally his father was stressed out about bills, always burying his head in a pile of papers scattered around the floor or the table if they had one. Will asked if he could help once. On sight, he had no idea what it all meant. Being happy now didn't mean he was going to be happy later. At least he was happy now.

"Fine," Will answered. "I'm going to go finish my homework and go outside."

"Outside? And what are you going to do out there?" 

Mr. Graham knew. Ever since he sat and spoke with Ms. Whitaker, Will's guidance counselor, he knew Will had a reason for everything. They advised him that he had autism. Will wasn't sure what that meant, but at first, he thought it was some kind of internal disease. He just assumed he was sick all the time. Whatever it was, Mr. Graham and Ms. Whitaker didn't get along very well and disagreed with each other often. Eventually, Mr. Graham accepted it and began to treat Will differently, explaining things much slower to him despite the fact he could remember the facts he taught him perfectly. Will saw them vividly and in lucid color day to day, along with what his teachers taught him, along with what he saw on the walk from school, and perhaps how many steps he took if he thought about it long enough. 

"I made a friend today," said Will finally. 

"A friend?" said Mr. Graham, almost as if he assumed his friend was imaginary. It was still popular for kids his age. "And what's his name?" 

There was a light knock on the door. Mr. Graham furrowed his eyebrows and set his beer on the table, and opened the door.