Mrs. Hinton was only gone a minute – just long enough for Skye to take a deep, shuddery breath and for Jemma to press her hands into the sides of her face momentarily. They both looked at each other after taking their separate moments to release their individual tensions, and Skye was relieved to see that she wasn't the only one who looked like a nervous wreck. She felt bad that Jemma was uneasy too, of course, but she had to admit there was a certain kind of comfort in knowing she wasn't alone in her feelings.
Jemma stretched out her hand and took up Skye's, and Skye gave it a hard squeeze. They breathed in. She let go of the squeeze, but not of Jemma's hand, and they let out the breath they'd been holding. Their old trick. Jemma smiled.
Mrs. Hinton returned then, with May and Phil in tow. They both looked happy to see Skye and Jemma, although Skye couldn't help but notice the flicker of apprehension that danced in May's eyes momentarily.
"It's a little tight," Mrs. Hinton apologized, "but feel free to sit wherever you can find a space." May and Phil both picked their way through the room, pausing to send reassuring smiles Skye and Jemma's way as they passed them, and settled down in the chairs that had been pushed in at the table.
"The first thing I'd like to tell you all," began Mrs. Hinton, "is that you have some really remarkable daughters."
"We certainly think so," Phil said. Skye couldn't see his face very well from where she was sitting, but she could practically hear the smile in his voice.
"They're both very bright, and very considerate," Mrs. Hinton continued. "I'm really glad I got a chance to meet them both today."
"That's very kind of you to say," came May's voice. If Skye had to guess, she would have said there was a tiny bit of impatience lurking in her otherwise polite tone. She wondered if May was hoping to skip past the pleasantries as much as she was.
"I'll start with Jemma," said Mrs. Hinton. "As you're probably aware, Jemma is incredibly gifted when it comes to academics. She tests well, she reads well beyond grade-level, and her critical thinking skills are very strong. Miss Hill referred her to me because she was concerned that Jemma might not be challenged enough in her current classes, and based on the few things I've seen in our short time here, I would tend to agree with her assessment. Jemma, you told me that you spend a lot of time in school going over things that you've already learned about. You also told me that you don't want to change grades, and I want to respect that."
"Jemma's doing really well with her current class," Phil cut in. "And the support system she already has from her friends is important to us."
"Absolutely," nodded Mrs. Hinton. "I would advocate for us to find another way to challenge Jemma that doesn't uproot her life drastically, the way moving up to the high school would."
Skye heard Jemma breathe a sigh of relief, and Skye squeezed her hand. The feeling was mutual. Skye didn't want to lose Jemma to the high school after only such a short time of being in the same class together.
"So what do you suggest instead?" May asked.
"I have three potential options that I'd like for you all to consider, but I'm open to hearing your ideas as well," said Mrs. Hinton. "The first is we arrange for the teachers to send home extra work with Jemma every few weeks. Extra projects, topics to research and study, things like that. Ideally it would be material that was somewhat new, so Jemma could have a chance to explore new content on her own time."
Skye wrinkled her nose. Maybe Jemma wouldn't mind having extra homework, but to Skye, that sounded like just about the worst possible thing she could imagine.
"The second is to arrange for Jemma to meet with one of our special education teachers – one who helps run the gifted and talented program for some of the younger grades – during certain times throughout the day to provide her opportunities to work at her own pace instead of the pace of the rest of the class. Jemma would miss parts of her regular classes, but she would be getting extra material in place of her normal work."
That sounded less terrible than the 'extra homework' plan to Skye, but she wasn't sure she could see Jemma being particularly gung-ho about missing part of her school day. That would disrupt the schedule, and would cut into her time with Fitz, Skye reasoned.
"The third," Mrs. Hinton finished, "is to set Jemma up with a tutor who can provide her with some extra engagement that she might be missing out on during the day. It could be a private tutor, of course, but I also know that Skye is already set up with the high school program." She paused, and her eyes twinkled briefly. "Normally the high school program is more for helping students who need some extra practice with things or extra time to catch up, but I feel fairly confident that we could talk with Rosalind over there and work something out, if that sounded appealing."
"Jemma already comes with me when I go to tutoring," Skye blurted out, failing to contain her excitement. The grownups all chuckled in that way that grownups do when a kid has done something funny, but they don't want the kid to know they're secretly laughing at them. Skye didn't care – she was too busy thinking of how great it would be to share tutoring with Jemma, really share it – not just have Jemma tag along – to be too bothered by the adults.
"That is true," Phil agreed. "Jemma's been going with Skye for moral support, but maybe… well, I don't know, what do you think, Jemma? Does one of those choices sound good to you?"
Jemma's face went scarlet, and she ducked her head a little, tapping softly on the edge of the couch. It was a big decision, Skye supposed. She didn't blame Jemma for not having an answer right away.
"I… I like going with Skye to tutoring," she said shyly. "Natasha is nice, and she knows a lot of things."
"Natasha is the high school student Skye's been working with," Phil explained for Mrs. Hinton's benefit.
"I can't say for sure that you'd be working with the same tutor," Mrs. Hinton cautioned. "That's something that you all would have to work out with Rosalind, I think, but I expect there's something to be said for the built-in familiarity that would come with option number three."
"What do you think, Jemma?" May asked. "Is that the one you'd like to pick?"
"I get to choose?" Jemma checked. May and Phil nodded.
"They all sound like good options," Phil told her. "We'd be happy with any of them, so whichever sounds best to you is the one we'll go with."
"Number three," Jemma decided, a smile dancing faintly across her face. Skye couldn't help but beam. A funny look crossed Jemma's face suddenly, and she turned to face Skye. "Do you think Fitz will be jealous?"
Skye almost burst out laughing at the serious concern with which Jemma has asked the question, but she managed to reign it in. Leave it to Jemma to be concerned about Fitz's feelings at a time like this.
"Maybe," Skye admitted, once she had actually considered the possibility. "But he won't mind. I bet he'd be your friend forever if you let him look at the stuff you do in tutoring though," she said with a playful nudge. She was pretty sure Fitz would be Jemma's friend until the end of time no matter what, as long as they still lived here. She had never seen two people who were so obviously made to be friends as the pair of them.
"Well, now that's decided, I'll reach out to Rosalind tomorrow and see what we can get set up," Mrs. Hinton informed them with a smile. "Phil, I'm sure the two of you will be in touch as well."
"Definitely," Phil nodded. "I'll make a point to swing by and speak with her tomorrow."
"Fantastic," Mrs. Hinton said. "Now, if it's all right with everyone, I'd like to move on to Skye."
All of the oxygen in Skye's lungs felt like it had been compressed into a tiny cube of dread that had lodged somewhere in her ribs. Mrs. Hinton was going to tell them just how hopeless Skye really was. She was going to tell them about how she'd blown it on all of her questions and how there was no way Skye would ever be smart enough to pass the eighth grade, so there was really no point in making the effort with her anymore.
"From what I could tell in our short time together, Skye is bright and curious and creative," Mrs. Hinton began. "She's clearly got a knack for her computer class, and she has some interesting ideas about how we can make our school better." Skye couldn't tell by Mrs. Hinton's smile if she was teasing or not, but neither Phil nor May was laughing, so Skye thought maybe she was still safe for now.
"She also has a very strong sense of justice," continued Mrs. Hinton. "I brought up the example of the fence at the baseball game – maybe you've heard it before? It's an analogy for accommodations, equity and inclusion, that sort of thing… Anyhow, Skye made a suggestion to amend the analogy. A way to increase the fairness for everyone in the story that I hadn't considered. Needless to say, I was impressed."
Skye twisted a little in her seat to see if she could get a better look at May and Phil's expressions. She could hardly believe that Mrs. Hinton had so many nice things to say after only talking with her for half an hour, and she was curious if May and Phil were having as much trouble believing the guidance counselor as she was.
"That sounds like Skye," May said, and Skye could have sworn there was something like pride in her voice. It was an odd thing to hear, unfamiliar and awkward to Skye's ear, but she couldn't help but feel something warm and fuzzy swell up a little in her chest at that.
"Miss Hill has been concerned with Skye's grades, hence her work with the tutoring program, and from the reports that Rosalind has been sending the school, it seems like Skye's making some good progress over there. For that reason, my primary focus is less on Skye's grades and more on Skye as a learner," said Mrs. Hinton. Now the serious parts were coming.
"Miss Hill made some notes in the referral she sent me that Skye sometimes has trouble focusing or staying on task, and that reading and reading comprehension has been somewhat of a challenge for Skye. I'm not in any position to make any official diagnosis, of course, but based on some of the work that Skye and I did with our activities this evening and the notes from Maria and the other teachers, I think there's a very real possibility that Skye may have some learning disabilities. In particular, I think there are some strong indicators for dyslexia, and potentially for ADHD as well."
A roaring was starting to build in Skye's ears, and it felt like her vision was narrowing around her. There was something wrong with her. It wasn't just that she wasn't smart, or that she was lazy and unmotivated. It wasn't just that she had a bad attitude or wasn't applying herself. Something was actually wrong. Maybe she should have been relieved to know that there was a reason for all of her struggles and shortcomings in school, but that wasn't what she was feeling at all. With a sickening lurch, Skye realized that there was no way May and Phil would want to keep a broken kid. They had tolerated her faults and flaws up until now, but it was all going to be over, just like that. A terrible nightmare coming true right before her clouding eyes.
"Skye?" Phil's voice snagged in Skye's ear and drug her back to reality. "Did you hear what Mrs. Hinton asked you?"
"I… um, no. Sorry," Skye mumbled. Her face felt hot.
"I asked if you knew what those words meant," Mrs. Hinton repeated. "They're not words one hears all the time."
"No." All she knew was that the words meant there was something about her that wasn't right. Something about her that made her not smart enough. She wasn't smart enough to understand the words that said what was wrong with her, just like how she wasn't smart enough to read, or get good grades, or to figure out a way to have avoided this whole disaster in the first place, or to convince May and Phil that she could be worth keeping around. She wasn't even sure she was smart enough to keep Jemma as a friend at this point. Jemma knew more about everything than Skye knew about anything, she always had, but with this new, scary word looming over her and crushing her into a tiny, broken box, what would Jemma think of her now?
"Dyslexia is a learning disability that can make reading very difficult for some students. When people have dyslexia, their brains process language in a different way than people without it, so they might be more likely to mix up letters, or to have trouble remembering things that they've just read. Dyslexia makes it hard for people to recognize speech sounds called phonemes, so the connection between the shape of the letter on the page and the sound that letter is supposed to make isn't always there for a brain with dyslexia."
Very little of what Mrs. Hinton was making sense, and her explanation did little to quell the bubbling shame that was rising in Skye's throat. Someone squeezed her hand, reminding her to breathe. Jemma. Of course Jemma still loved her. She would have been silly to ever think otherwise.
"I want to make it very clear that dyslexia in no way reflects on your intelligence," Mrs. Hinton said seriously. "It simply means that your brain is… wired differently. It makes connections in a way that's different from other people's. If it turns out that you do have dyslexia, Skye, then that can help us to understand why certain things in school are harder for you. It has nothing to do with how smart you are and everything to do with the way your mind works."
"So… I'm not dumb," Skye said slowly, trying to keep it all straight.
"Absolutely not," Mrs. Hinton assured her. "Like I said earlier, you've already demonstrated to me that you're very bright and creative. That's not uncommon for people with dyslexia. They might be gifted in areas like art or design or engineering, for example. Things that use spatial reasoning or visual learning. You said yourself that you like working with computers, and you had no trouble at all with the drawing portion of our activities, remember?" Skye nodded.
"So, I'm not dumb," she repeated. Her voice dropped, and her ears grew warm. "I'm just broken."
"What? Skye, no," Phil said quickly. She heard the scraping sound of a chair, and in an instant, Phil was crouched in front of the couch, a hand resting on Skye's knee. "Having dyslexia doesn't make you broken, Skye. Having any kind of learning disability, or any disability at all, for that matter, doesn't make you broken. It makes you unique. It makes you see the world differently. It sometimes might make navigating the world a little more challenging for you, but that's the world's fault, not yours."
"You matter so much more than a report card or a test score or an IQ number," May added. She was still sitting out of Skye's sight, so she couldn't see her face, but her voice was low and measured. It was the tone she used when she wanted Skye to really listen and understand what was being said. "And you matter because you're you. All of you. Every piece. If dyslexia is a part of you, then that just means our image of the whole you became a little fuller, but it doesn't change how we feel about you, or how important the whole you is."
"I couldn't have said it better myself," Mrs. Hinton smiled. "There are lots of students who navigate school with disabilities, and it's my job to help make sure that the school is giving you the support you need to be successful. Now, like I said, I can't offer an official diagnosis here, just my observations and experience. For something beyond that, you'd need to have Skye evaluated by a licensed professional. I can give you some names, if that's something you'd like to pursue."
"Is that something you'd recommend we do?" Phil asked. He stood up from the floor and perched himself on the arm of the couch next to Skye.
"It is," nodded Mrs. Hinton. "It can be helpful to have an official diagnosis, both for Skye's and your own awareness, but also for getting Skye the accommodations she may need. The school requires official documentation in order to move forward with a number of the accommodations we can offer."
"What kinds of things are we talking about here, exactly?" May wanted to know. She took the question right out of Skye's mouth.
"Well, if Skye is indeed dyslexic, I would recommend a couple of things. Extra time on tests, for one thing, and preferably in a space that has fewer distractions. I think Skye could also benefit from being able to take her tests orally. We could have someone read the questions aloud for her, for example, or have Skye speak her answers aloud instead of writing them down. I would also recommend providing Rosalind with the diagnosis, should it come, so that she can help to make sure that the tutoring Skye receives is also geared towards helping her develop reading strategies and building up her ability to recognize and interpret those speech sounds, the phonemes, that make up words."
"How does that sound to you, Skye?" Phil asked, turning to look at her. "Do those seem like some things that might be helpful?"
"I don't know, I guess," Skye shrugged. She wasn't sure how much help extra time on tests would be, since she wasn't likely to know the answers whether she had fifteen minutes or fifty to come up with them, but the idea of someone reading her test questions out loud for her didn't sound half bad. At least then she would know for sure what was being asked of her. "How would they figure out if I have it for real?"
"There are doctors that specialize in these kinds of fields," Mrs. Hinton said. "Child psychologists, usually, with different areas of expertise. You'd visit one of those doctors, talk with them, maybe take some tests or do some activities like the ones you and I did today. It would take a little longer than the time we spent together, but they'd be able to get a clearer picture of the way your brain is working."
"So I'd have to go to a doctor." Skye narrowed her eyes. She had already made it clear to Phil and May that she had no intention of going back to one of those shrinks ever again. Or at least, she thought she had. Jemma stiffened beside her, her breathing coming a little sharper in Skye's ear. As much as Jemma liked learning about medicine and first aid, she'd had just as many unpleasant experiences with those kinds of doctors as Skye had. Skye knew she understood Skye's hesitation.
"Yes," Mrs. Hinton. "I have a list of some of the doctors who I like very much and who I like to recommend to people. They're all very nice and very good at their jobs."
"I told you I didn't want to do that," Skye said, failing to mask the hurt in her voice. She looked from Phil to May and back again.
"We know you did, sweetheart," Phil soothed. "This is different than what we talked about earlier, though."
"We won't force you to do something you don't want to do, Skye," May said, "but it sounds like this could really help you. It won't be about anything other than diagnosing a learning disability, and it can help you get the things you might need from the school."
"You don't have to decide right now," Mrs. Hinton interceded quickly. "I can give you my list now, but you can take as long as you need to figure out if that's the right decision for your family. If that is the direction you end up going, I'll be here to help you navigate the school's policies and procedures to help get Skye set up with whatever she might need."
"Thank you, Polly," Phil said kindly. "We really do appreciate all your help. There's a lot of new information for us to process, I think, but this has all been really helpful."
"Yes, thank you," May echoed.
"I'm glad to have been useful to you all," Mrs. Hinton smiled. "Are there any other questions or concerns that I could help you all with before we end our time here?"
Skye started to get up, recognizing the line that grownups liked to use when they were politely wrapping things up. She was stopped by the sudden voice of May.
"Actually, yes, there is one more thing that we were hoping you could help us with." Surprised, Skye turned to look at May and found her wearing one of her stoniest, most serious expressions. Skye slunk back into her seat, more than a little nervous about what was going to come out of May's mouth next. Her brain was erupting with rapid fireworks of ideas about what was coming, each one wilder than the next.
"Last week, there was a little bit of an incident here at the school," May began, and Skye felt an ominous, slimy feeling slither into her chest, wrapping around her lungs. She didn't like where this was going one bit. She thought they had finished talking about her stupid mistake. "Jemma was called into Mr. Hanes' office to talk about a matter regarding Skye, and he… well, to put it delicately, he treated Jemma very poorly." Skye's eyebrows shot up her forehead. This wasn't the direction she had expected at all, but to her surprise, she found herself trusting that May was doing something good. She slid her gaze over to Jemma, who looked as taken aback as Skye felt. Her finger was suspended in midair, frozen midtap. She hadn't known this was coming either, apparently.
"To put it less delicately," Phil added, his expression dark, "he practically traumatized her. I wasn't there for the whole thing, but by the time I arrived, Ted had already upset Jemma badly. He kept saying things that were, frankly, incredibly insensitive, and not at all productive for the situation."
"We were wondering if you would know anything about how we could lodge an official complaint about his behavior with the school," May said. "The way he treated Jemma was unacceptable. From what I've gathered, he didn't respect her boundaries and spoke so aggressively that he actually caused Jemma to… well, she just has a hard time with tense situations, and his behavior only made things worse."
"I got out of sorts," Jemma murmured, eyes glued on her lap. Her tapping had resumed. Skye stretched her leg out and bumped her knee against Jemma's. Jemma glanced over at the nudge and caught the reassuring smile that Skye was telegraphing her way. May and Phil weren't bothered by Jemma's reaction to the situation in the office at all – they were upset with Mr. Hanes for causing it.
"Out of sorts how, Jemma?" Mrs. Hinton asked.
"He was angry, and I… I got scared. And overwhelmed. Everything was too…" Jemma trailed off, waving her non-tapping hand aimlessly to try and capture the 'too-muchness' of everything that had happened. "I didn't want to get in trouble, or to get Skye in trouble, but he kept making me feel bad."
"He had her in tears by the time I got here," Phil said, deadly quiet. "He was bullying her. He basically triggered an overload and then accused her of throwing a tantrum. There's no way that can be allowed, Polly."
"I agree." Mrs. Hinton said seriously. "Jemma, I'm very sorry that happened to you and that you were treated that way. Phil, Melinda, there's a process in place with the school board for reporting complaints about members of the administration. If I were you, I'd start by making sure you have a clear record of everything that happened. I can send you the pages from the school board by-laws that outline the exact process, but I do know that having that account will help tremendously."
"Thank you," May said. The stoniness was gone from her face, chipped away and eroded into smooth gratitude. "We appreciate it. We're not looking to ruin the man's life, by any means, but we feel very strongly that he should be held accountable for the way he treats his students."
"Of course," Mrs. Hinton nodded. "And if you find that you need an advocate with the board, please don't hesitate to call me. I… I can't imagine how upset I would be if someone at my daughter's school had treated her that way."
"That's very kind of you," Phil said, a trace of his usual smile returning to his face. "How is your daughter? Robin, right? She's, what, five or six?"
The grownups all started to get to their feet then, and Skye wasted no time in popping up alongside them. She was glad that May and Phil were going to do something about rotten Mr. Hanes, but she was more than ready to get out of the tiny office and back home.
"Five. She'll be six in a few months," Mrs. Hinton glowed. "She started kindergarten this year. It's been a big adjustment for her, but she's got a great in-school aide who's helping her navigate everything."
Skye cocked her head to one side, confused. "Kool-Aid? They let her have that at school?"
"In-school aide," Mrs. Hinton corrected, enunciating more clearly. "Robin's autistic, so she has a harder time with some parts of school. Her in-school aide is a person who stays with her during the day to help make things easier."
"Oh," Skye said. "Does it help?"
"It does," Mrs. Hinton smiled. "Mr. Coltrane is very good at his job. Robin doesn't communicate verbally often, so Mr. Coltrane is there to help make sure she gets everything she needs, and to help her understand the things that she needs to do, too. She comes home so happy every day, and she draws these wonderful pictures of all the things she did at school."
"That sounds pretty cool for her," Skye said, cracking her own grin. "It's nice when you can come home happy from school."
"It is," agreed Mrs. Hinton. She paused, like she was thinking hard about something. They had all made it out into the hallway, and Skye was itching for everyone to say goodbye. Still, she got the sense that Mrs. Hinton was weighing whether or not to say something more. "You know, this is technically outside the scope of the referral I was given, but Phil, Melinda, if you'd allow me to put on my fellow parent and friend hat, rather than my guidance counselor hat…" She paused again, and Skye watched as she looked from May to Phil, silently seeking confirmation before continuing.
Phil checked with May, who nodded, then smiled. "Of course, Polly. What's up?"
"Well, I just was thinking… I'm seeing a lot of similarities between my daughter and Jemma. Jemma's much more verbal than Robin, of course, and they have different personalities and interests, but… well, just some of their mannerisms. The way Jemma described being overwhelmed. Little things like that. If you end up seeing one of the specialists on that list to get a diagnosis for Skye, it might be worth considering having Jemma meet with them, too. I know I found it a lot easier to get Robin some of the extra support she's needed once she had a formal diagnosis for ASD. I don't know, just something to think about."
"Oh." Phil looked a little surprised. Not upset or anything, just surprised. Clearly he hadn't been expecting to hear that from Mrs. Hinton. Skye hadn't been either, to be honest, but she wasn't sure how much the information meant to her one way or another. Jemma hadn't started treating Skye any differently once Mrs. Hinton had brought the word "dyslexic" out into the open, so why should Skye do anything but return the favor now that the word "autistic" was out there, too?
"We'll definitely give that some thought, thanks Polly," Phil smiled, shaking back whatever surprise had caught hold of him momentarily. "We really appreciate everything you're doing for our family."
"It's my pleasure, really," Mrs. Hinton said, shaking everyone's hand in farewell. "And I hope I wasn't overstepping—"
"No, not at all," May assured her. "Parents have to help each other. We appreciate your insight. Thank you."
And with that, finally, finally, they all headed back down the short hallway and out towards the car. Skye could have jumped to the moon she was so grateful to be back outside in the cool evening air and away from the stuffy walls of the school, Mrs. Hinton's office, and big, suffocating words that were supposed to tell you what kind of a person you were. She didn't care about those words. She was Skye. She didn't want to let those words clog up her thoughts and tell her how she was supposed to act or be. She didn't want to go to a doctor and hear the bad news all over again. She didn't want to talk about it anymore. She just wanted to breathe in the sharp, clean oxygen that smelled like old wood and damp earth, to sit next to Jemma in the car on the way home, to watch TV with Bobbi, to climb into bed and let Jemma tell her about the stars that watched over them from every corner of the universe until she fell asleep.
She knew everyone meant well, and she understood that they were all just trying to help her, but as far as Skye was concerned, the only thing she really needed right now was to just be Skye, whatever way that turned out to be. Maybe Skye wasn't perfect; she wasn't really even close, she knew, but she'd rather be the Skye with bad grades and scraped knees or the Skye who made impulsive decisions and got in fights to defend her friends than some other version of Skye that other people decided she should be. May had said that it was the whole Skye that mattered, the real Skye. Skye just hoped that turned out to be true.
Thanks again to everyone for reading :) You all are the best, and I'm so grateful you're still here with me!