My Type of Socializing | ✓

Chapter 23

As time passed Adam got more comfortable with traveling further away from the apartment complex. He followed Assad to the gym once and just sat on the floor by the side as he watched Assad lift weights. He had also started going to the art supply store that Assad had shown him downtown. He would take the bus, covering his face with his sweater hoodie to make sure no one bothered him. The workers at the store were nice and helped him go through his list without making small talk that would trigger his anxiety.

Adam was getting better, and he could feel it. He ate better, he was out in the sun more than usual, and he had the needed human interaction he had lacked for years.

Adam was becoming a normal person. It felt strange to him, seeing as normalcy had been something that he had given up on a long time ago.

He also got used to Assad not really having time for him for some weeks—exams, texts, and submission deadlines sometimes chained the younger man to his campus late into the day. Adam didn't mind. He had deadlines to meet too, and he'd started to make friends with his neighbors, so he still had someone to talk to when all Assad could do was send him a few texts a day.

Talking to people hadn't been as taxing as Adam had thought. His neighbors were like Assad in the sense that they tended not to mind mostly talking to themselves when they spoke to Adam. They often just asked him about mundane things and suggested them doing things together.

Visiting his neighbor's place for a meal or a drink once in a blue moon was something Adam was starting to do, for instance.

"You should learn how to cook," his next-door neighbor, who he has come to know as Susan, said when Adam was peering over her shoulder one evening. "I know Assad is awesome at the stove, but it's nice to know how to make a couple of things yourself."

Adam had just cocked his head at the sizzling beef in the pan. "I guess so." Cooking has never been his strong forth. He had been learning when he'd left home, but then he met Archie who bought take out for them every other day. Also, when they had broken up Adam couldn't muster up the energy to do anything. He hadn't seen the point of attempting to make a dish that would take two hours with the possibility of it turning out bad when he could just order take out.

"Yup," the woman had said, stepping aside from the stove before pushing a spatula into his hand. "Flip it every few minutes. I'll come and check up on what you're doing."

When they had finished cooking that day, Susan had given him a B- after dramatically inspecting the meat and dishing it into a shared plate. It had made Adam chuckle a little, and it had also made him strangely proud of himself.

He attempted to recreate the recipe in his own kitchen when Assad had more time to spend with him, and the younger man had praised him too. Soon, Adam was calling his mother asking for cooking advice and hints at simple to make meals.

"I'm glad you've picked up a new hobby," Assad had commented once, making Adam look at him with wide eyes before grinning.

Hobbies.

That was another thing normal people tended to have.

Assad had gone on and on about this open market stall, he bought cheap African styled pots from.

"They last forever!" he had said, making Adam grin at him as he stirred soup in his pot.

"Maybe you can take me there one of these days?" he had asked, and Assad had nodded before chattering on about something else.

Assad did keep his promise, and within the next few days, the two had made the trip to the open market in a rental car. Adam had gotten himself some pots, a grinding board, and a nice collection of green glass cups.