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grandmother berating his mother once for coddling Aaron. If they just treated him like a normal kid, he would be normal. They really had no clue. So his mother got it from all sides, all because he couldn’t function on his own. No wonder they wanted to ship him off.
    “
M
OM, I’m so glad that you and Dad could make it on such short notice,” Aaron’s mother told his grandparents as they followed the host to their table at the restaurant. He was surprised when Allen grabbed Anthony by the back of the shirt and all but threw him into the seat next to his grandmother before taking the one next to Aaron. His parents sat opposite his brothers, leaving him at the opposite side of the table from his grandparents. Aaron could have kissed his brothers; they had put a human barrier between him and his grandparents. Whenever he saw them, his grandmother tried to hug him or his grandfather would pat him on the back. Neither of them were around Aaron enough to really understand why they could no longer touch their grandson.
    After they’d been seated for a few minutes, Aaron quietly studying his menu, Michelle began to make small talk with her parents while John and Anthony talked about school. They were trying to keep the focus off Aaron, which he appreciated almost desperately. While they murmured in polite conversation, their server approached the table between Aaron and Allen, startling the older boy.
“Hi, my name is Juliette, and I’ll be your server this evening,” she said in a falsely bright tone.
    Allen and his father, who were seated on either side of Aaron, noticed how his breathing seemed to accelerate at the mention of the server’s name; they both leaned forward in their chairs, looking anxious. Aaron scooted his chair toward his father in an effort to get away from her.
    “What can I get you folks to drink?” the server asked, popping her gum as she spoke, her pen poised to document their beverage preferences. Probably in her late twenties, the girl wasn’t bad to look at with her frizzy red hair and freckles, but her high nasal voice was grating on the nerves.
    “I’ll have a Coke,” John said. Each member of the family listed off a litany of liquid refreshments in turn, from Michelle’s iced tea to the grandparents’ wine. The two younger brothers both ordered 7Up, and then Allen ordered a Coke for his older brother, who flashed him a grateful look. Aaron hated to talk, especially to strangers who would just stare at him, causing him to stutter and repeat himself until he sounded like the freak he was. Jesus, it was a fucking Thursday. Why was the restaurant so crowded?
    “I’ve heard their lasagna here is excellent,” John piped up to keep the conversation going, once the server had gone to fill the drink order. Sweat trickled down the side of Aaron’s face as he sat in the claustrophobic restaurant surrounded by strangers. He could feel them on all sides, pressing against his space. It was hard to breathe.
    “Yes, that does sound good,” their grandfather said as he looked over the menu one final time before closing it and setting it next to his plate. He sat stiffly in his chair, all but swallowed by the gray cardigan that helped to warm him in the air-conditioned restaurant. Thin and nearly bald, he pushed his thick oval glasses back up on the bridge of his nose as he addressed his eldest grandson. “So, Aaron, have you decided on your major at college?”
    “Aaron isn’t going to college yet,” Allen said, his voice full of trepidation for his brother. Aaron sat staring absently at his silverware on the table, his breathing fast and labored. Aaron was in the beginning stages of a panic attack, and he worried what that would mean for him in the middle of a crowded restaurant. His mother’s face swam before his eyes as he looked up at her helplessly.
“Thank you, son, but I was asking your brother,” his grandfather said pointedly, and looked to Aaron to provide a more detailed