The next day, I actually look forward to talking to Marge about what her parents thought about my mother's idea. Marge has seemed relieved to learn she was autistic and after speaking with my parents once she was gone, I could learn why.

I was in class, half listening as the first period began when I was called to the secretary's office, again.

You have to understand something. I have a history of forgetting things at home, and my parents, usually my mother, dropping me what I forgot.

Be it a homework due that morning, my gym clothes, my lunch, once I even forgot my backpack. If my mother wasn't more patient with me, she probably would have made the joke I would forget my head at home if it wasn't bolted to my neck.

I excused myself and walked to the secretary's office. I know where it is. The main secretary, Ellie, and I are on a first name basis, and she is a lot more patient than the one at my elementary school.

That one wouldn't yell at me, but she would sigh and clearly show she was impatient.

I see Ellie and I salute her. She nods, and I look, but don't see my mother or anything dropped by her. Usually, my lunchbox, or my gym bag, would be on the counter in front of her so I can quickly grab it and run back to my class.

Instead, she calls me.

"Julie, can you follow me to the principal's office, please?"

Shit, what did I do?

Often, I was called to the principal's office for an exam in which I seriously underperformed, and they were worried about me, but this was the first time I was called to the principal's office in high school.

It gets worse because junior high students have a vice-principal in charge of them, and she is leading me to the main principal's office. The one in charge of the whole high school.

I think, did I forget an exam? A permission slip? Wait, there had been none in high school so far. I checked my clothes, there was no uniform but we had a dress code and I respected it. I was even wearing jeans today, and short skirts were the main problem. I wasn't wearing a bra, but I didn't need one yet, and the school only said if required.

Plus, who would have reported me? It's first period in the morning.

I get in, and see that the principal isn't there.

"Do I just wait for him?"

Ellie closes the door behind her, takes a deep breath, and begins yelling. I had no idea that this nice, quiet, friendly woman could even raise her voice. Even when she tells teenagers not to run in the corridor, it's out of desire not to disappoint her that people listen.

"Why the fuck was my daughter naked at your home yesterday with you and your parents when she was supposed to be at Edith's house, not yours, little pervert"

"Woah, woah... Wait a second"

"Julie, don't play innocent, you were naked with my daughter at your home, yesterday. Both of you"

"Wait, are you Marge's mother?"

"Who did you think I was talking about? What kind of perversion are you pulling? And what's what bullshit about her being autistic. In what kind of cult are you all?"

"Ok, can we sit? You are an adult and I am feeling intimidated"

"Good, you should be, it's not natural"

Still, I grab one of the chairs in front of the principal's desk, and sit on it. Ellie sits on the desk. Of her boss...

I speak up. "Well, actually it is, we are all born nude. Let's start with the question you asked and didn't ask again. Edith was put in my family by child protection services. I was nude because we are naturists. We enjoy spending time without clothing. It has nothing to do with cults, perversion or anything. And yes, CPS knows that we are naturists, and Edith knew and spent a lot of time with us nude before she was placed with us. It provides her with a feeling of safety"

Ellie laughs sarcastically.

"Safety?"

"Yes, she associates nudity with vulnerability. As such, when she sees us nude, she sees us as safe. Unlike her parents"

"So you ambushed my daughter?"

"I actually informed her at the previous lunchtime. So she knew what she was getting into, and I decided not to undress. She is the one who reminded me that I was usually nude at home"

"Ok, that actually sounds like her, but autistic?"

"Why don't you call my mother? She has an autistic cousin, I knew nothing about autism before she suspected for Marge"

"Marge is not autistic"

"Don't tell me. Tell my mom. Call her now, if you want."

"Do you have her number at work?"

"My parents work from home, usually"

"Do you know your number?"

She takes the phone from the principal, and dials via the speakerphone my home phone number. Of course, I knew it, I was 12, not 6. But I am not going to give it to you...

My mother answered

"Is this Julie's mother?"

"It is? Is my something occurring with my daughter?"

"No, but something occurred with mine yesterday"

There is a pause.

"Wait, you work at the school, and you are Marge's mother?"

"Bingo"

"Hi mom, she called me out of class. It's Ellie, the secretary"

"My daughter is not autistic"

"I think that if you search inside of you, you know something doesn't quite work right with her. I could see it in a few seconds, and you work with kids. You just don't know what because you've probably only seen autistic boys with autistic moms"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Autistic kids need structure. They need discipline and to fully understand the rules. You did that with Marge. She told me. It means that she can function in life. It means you did a good job with her. But many mothers with an autistic boy make excuses for them and enable them to be dysfunctional. You avoided that, so your charming, kind and intelligent daughter can connect to almost everyone on a superficial level. She can adapt to any environment because you gave her the tools to do that. Now, all she is missing, is a way to unwind, to stop constantly masking how much she is in despair inside her. And yesterday, I think she did so at my house for the first time in months, if not years. I could hear her laugh with my daughters in the living room, like she didn't before I had my talk with her. She was happy. You've done a good job with her, making her fit the mold. She made great friends who care about her. Now, all you need, is to let her unwind for her own sanity from time to time"

"By being naked in your home?"

"Not naked, nude. It's what she picked to open up. I didn't suggest it to her"

"Were you naked then?"

"I was nude, not naked"

"She is highly influenceable"

"No, she isn't. She just tries to blend in. Why don't we meet?"

"So I have to see you naked?"

"First, I will never be naked with you, or your daughter. I was nude with your daughter. If you want to know the difference, I can explain it to you, but is there a point in my daughter missing more of her first class, or can she return to her English class? I can speak for as long as you want, and I can invite you to eat lunch or supper at any restaurant in town not run by Enzo, my treat, so we can talk on neutral ground. While I am not nude"

Ellie looks at me. "Sorry Julie, I get very protective when it comes to my daughter"

So I replied. "And I admire that of you. But please keep something in mind as well. My mother is as protective of me, but also, of my friends. She cares about Marge, and she will go to the bat to protect her too. You both care about the same person"

"Kiddo?", says my mom

"Yes?"

"Thank you, that was touching"

I leave and return to class, almost shaking. Everyone knew Ellie. Everyone spoke to Ellie. She was like our surrogate mother in school. Did you have a fever? You went to see Ellie, who called the nurse. You were late to school? Ellie welcomed you.

When she walks down the corridor, even bullies behave because no one wants to get on Ellie's bad side. No one.

And now, I was.

I could barely listen in class, I missed about 20 minutes and couldn't make sense of the rest, and that was if my heart hadn't been jumping out of my chest.

I knew just enough not to worry. It was a repeat of content I already knew and mastered, but today, at 22, I have no recollection of what it was.

Math however, the next class, I can still tell you exactly what it was.

We opened the geometry section of the year.

And this, was not easy elementary school geometry. This fill in the blanks after measuring with a ruler a 1:1 drawing which is my worst nightmare.

Well, was. Now I know worse, trigonometry, which isn't just for triangles as it turns out, but that's a few years down the line.

It was comparing the perimeter and volume of different shapes to make us realize the relationship between them, but all it did, was make me realize how I didn't understand anything.

Eventually, the bell saved me, and I had another class, but I lost to my past which one it was.

When it was finally time for lunch, Marge was the first in the secret spot. As soon as she saw me, she began crying. "I am so sorry my mother called you this morning in class. I shouldn't have told her"

But I went to hug her. "Marge, you are you, you are someone honest and transparent. Don't change for me"

Edith and Mindy arrived soon after, when I was telling Marge what happened.

"I don't know what to do. I am banned from removing my clothes other than to clean myself or change in the morning or the night. And I am banned from Edith and Julie's house. But I liked being nude. It was freeing"

We had to clue in Mindy to what happened the previous night, and also about the autism theories.

"My mother doesn't like it."

"I think she was opening up. My mom and she will have lunch or supper in town today"

"For real?", says Marge.

"Well, my mother proposed. I can't confirm if it will occur"

"We can hope"

Mindy had news from Billy, but at this point, I think it was just white noise to all of us. Edith had trouble in English, so I told her about my geometry issues, but it's Marge who proposed to help me.

"Maybe this time, you can come to my home. Dressed", said Marge.

"I sure we would like that", I say, looking at Edith.

"Oh, I would love to, but tonight, I have to meet social services, but go. Don't wait on my behalf", says Edith

"Are you sure? I could go with you to support you"

"It's a stupid talking therapy session. You can't be there. Even Kylie can't be there. It's just me, and I presume a stuffy shrink asking me about my parents. Well, what if I don't want to talk about them?"

It's your first session?", I ask

"Yeah"

"I went to therapy last year", said Mindy, who had been silent.

"You did?", I said.

"I wasn't adapting as well as I thought to high school. I like meeting plenty of people, but I felt lost constantly changing room, getting new people to sit next. I know, it's not the same as what Edith is going through, I am not stupid. But having an adult who isn't judging me at all listen to my problems and help me see things in a new light helped a lot"

Well, I'll spoil it right away, I'll finish this chapter on this.

Edith was nervous, but connected with the therapist. She would see her, usually after school on Tuesdays, but it would move around when the therapist had emergencies, and it did Edith a lot of good.

What the therapist did was get Edith to see how nothing her parents did was her fault, but also see how she managed to connect with good surrogate parents and surround herself with wholesome, respectful friends who love her.

I don't know about you, but I didn't meet that therapist, I only heard about her, and she made me feel better about myself.

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