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Julie Buxbaum Books

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Admission

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“I think about all the things money can and cannot buy. A spot at SCC, but not a moral compass. Health care and rehab, but not immunity from our worst impulses. Fluency in Mandarin, but not the ability to talk honestly. Privilege and large heaping chunks of the world, but not confidence. Or self-reflection. And certainly not courage. No, money doesn’t buy courage. In fact, if I’ve learned anything since the scandal, it’s that the opposite is true. Money makes you weak because it tricks you into thinking you’re strong.”

MoneyEmpathyPrivilegeSelf Reflection
Book:Admission
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“Will you think about the kissing?” he asks, and I laugh again and mimic his shrug. If only he knew how much I think about the kissing. “Will you reconsider hand-holding?” he asks, instead of answering, I move my arm so it’s next to his, so we are lined up, seam to seam. He reaches out his pinky finger and links it around mine and a warm, delicious chill makes its way up my arm. We stay that way for a minute, in a pinky swear, which feels like the smallest of promises. And then I grab his whole hand and link his fingers in mine. A slightly bigger promise. Or maybe a demand: Please be part of my tribe. It’s pretty simple, really. For once, things are not complicated. Right now, right here, it’s just us, together, like this. Palm to palm. The most honest of gestures. One of the ways through. Maybe the best one.”

RomanceLossHigh SchoolAutism
Book:What to Say Next
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“I try to think of other things. David’s hand in mine. That was nice. Innocent, friendly hand-holding. I think of his tape measure. And his haircut. I think about what it might be like to kiss him. Not that I really think of him that way-like a boyfriend or even just some hookup-but still I imagine kissing him would feel good. A true thing. A real thing. I imagine he tastes like honesty.”

RomanceLossHigh SchoolAutism
Book:What to Say Next
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“we match,” I say, and as soon as the words are out I already know that tomorrow will come and I will remember this moment and wince. We match?? And so, even through this drunken haze, I feel relief when he doesn’t laugh at me. Instead he squeezes me a little tighter, brings me a tiny bit closer so my edges are against his edges, and it’s all warm. Our bodies fit. I secretly sniff him, and get rewarded with his fresh lemony scent”

RomanceLossHigh SchoolAutism
Book:What to Say Next
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“I am kissing David Drucker. I am kissing David Drucker. I am kissing David Drucker. I Was wrong. I had assumed this would be his first kiss, that it would be fumbling and a bit messy but still fun. No way. Can’t be. This guy knows exactly what he’s doing. How to cradle the back of my head with his hands. How to move in soft and slow, and then pick up the pace, and then slow down again. How to brush my cheeks with even smaller kisses, how to work his way down my jaw, and to soften the worry spot in the center of my brow. How to pause and look into my eyes, really look, so tenderly I feel it all the way down in my stomach. He even traces the small zigzag scar on my eyebrow with his fingertips, like it’s something beautiful. I could kiss him forever. I’m going to kiss him forever.”

RomanceLossHigh SchoolAutism
Book:What to Say Next
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“We don’t talk on the ride home. We don’t have to. I feel warm and giddy and like I have a secret that I want to keep all to myself. David Drucker, who is so many different people all at once: the guy who always sits alone, the guy who talked quantum physics even in my dad’s dental chair, the guy who held my hand in the snow. I kissed David Drucker, the guy I most like to talk to, and it was perfect.”

RomanceLossHigh SchoolAutism
Book:What to Say Next
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“I spend the first week after screwing everything up with Kit too ashamed to do anything except write her a stupid text. I keep it short, limit it to the words I know can’t be the wrong ones: I’m sorry. I don’t trust myself not to make a bigger mess of things by saying more. Whenever I pick up the phone to text again, I freeze up with anxiety. I don’t feel like I deserve the chance to explain. I don’t even deserve to share the same air molecules as Kit.”

ChanceAnxietyDeserveSorryWordsAshamedTextExplainDavid DruckerKit Lowell
Book:What to Say Next
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“I’m Asian, though. I’m allowed to say it. My people slay at this shit.” I don’t say anything back because I don’t know if being Asian allows you to say racist things about other Asians. I’m not aware of this carve-out. “Tell us everything you know about quantum mechanics,” José says, and then, just like when I drop-kicked Meat Boy, my whole body sighs with pleasure.”

Quantum MechanicsDavid Drucker
Book:What to Say Next
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