"You didn't tell her?" James asked mum, raising an eyebrow.
"I thought you were going to do that.." she said meekly. He rolled his eyes.
"The child is such a dramaqueen."
"You're unreal!" I spat, flouncing off, slamming the door behind me.
I leaned against the hallway wall as I sighed and raked my fingers through my hair. I hadn't heard the front or back door click, so I ventured towards Hugo's room.
I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for a reply. I poked my head into his room.
He was spinning around on his swivel chair, with a copy of Romeo and Juliet held protectively to his chest.
There was a neat pile of D.V.D's on his desk, all different versions of Romeo and Juliet. There was even a mini poster on his wall of the latest adaptation of the tale.
"Can I come in?" I quietly asked.
I shut the door behind me, and sat crossed legged in the middle of the floor. I looked around. The room was immaculately clean.
"You really do love Romeo and Juliet."
He sadly smiled.
"It's like every time you read it, it's your first time. You see the beauty of their relationship, you hope they get to be together, you hope they survive; you're devastated when they die. You relive all the emotions every time. Seeing it come to life in plays and movies is magical. It's amazing to see different peoples' interpretations."
I nodded at his enthusiasm, but I had to ask.
"Hugo.. Why didn't you tell me?"
He laughed in an angry, sarcastic manner.
"It's Autism, isn't it? As soon as people hear that word, that's what defines the person. It's just like, oh, Hugo, the one with Autism."
"Hugo, it's just a word."
I was never so grateful that I studied Romeo and Juliet last year for English class than I was at that moment.
"What is a word?"
"It is not an arm nor a foot nor any part of a man" Hugo smiled.
"Exactly!" I grinned. "I promise, Hugo, I don't define you with Autism. You're Hugo to me."