My Autistic Daughter Doesn't Need Your "Romance"

Summary

My autistic daughter was being harassed by a boy who wouldn't stop making dirty jokes.

Her teacher called me, sounding thrilled, to tell me someone was finally going to "save" my daughter.

When I rushed to the school, I found a bleached-blond boy cornering my daughter against the wall.

"You put a rubber band on my finger yesterday and told me it was 'ultra-thin.' Aren't you going to explain yourself?"

My daughter’s face was beet red. It took her a long time to squeeze out a single sentence.

"I... I didn't!"

Floating text—like a livestream chat—suddenly erupted in my vision.