Drumbeats into My Heart

48. Jordi, Upset

"You okay?" Winnie stops at a red light and appraises me.

I'm barely holding it together. I never expected Seth to betray me like that. Never!

I stare hard at the window display of a bookstore featuring self-help guides, willing the flood of tears to stay back. "I'm fine."

"Wow, if that's fine, I'd hate to see what upset looks like."

I glare at her. I feel sick inside, the half burger I'd eaten threatening to resurface. I open the window and close my eyes as the car eases forward again, sending a gentle breeze against my hot face. When the car stops again, I open my eyes and find ourselves in the parking lot of a small dog park.

Winnie unclips her seat belt and rotates to face me. "I haven't seen you this bad since Mrs. McNally made you fill a chalkboard with I will pay attention in class."

I give her a watery smile. That was an awful day, but things were simpler in fourth grade. People didn't expect much from me back then. "I just got blindsided, that's all."

"I can't believe he said that in front of everyone. That was so wrong."

I nod and drop my gaze to my lap. How could he? In front of his mother? His mother who prizes good grades over psychological health.

The snarling of two aggressive dogs draws our attention, and we watch the dog owners pull them apart.

"Jordi..." Winnie pauses, glancing at me before drawing her thin brows together in thought. She doesn't continue.

"What is it?"

She sighs like she doesn't want to say what she's about to say.

Which puts me on edge, because maybe I don't want to hear it.

"Could there be something to what Seth was saying?" she finally asks.

Dread seeps into my chest. The last thing I need is for my best friend to think I'm an idiot. I meet Winnie's hesitant gaze. "What are you implying?"

She seems to read my expression and leans back a fraction. "I'm not implying anything. It's just... what if a learning disability explains... you know, a few things?"

First Seth, and now Winnie. I feel like I've been punched in the gut. "You think I'm stupid, too." My voice is an agonized whisper.

"What? No! And neither does Seth! Jordi, you are so not stupid. All I'm saying is—"

"I'm mentally disabled. I get it."

"Oh my god, Jordi, you sound like a martyr."

"Aren't you surprised I know what a martyr is?"

Winnie ignores me. "I care about you, and if something can explain why you struggle in school, then I think it's worth looking into."

"Not everyone can be geniuses like you and Seth."

"Seriously? Are we back to that again?"

I droop and stare out the window, watching a fat puppy fight with its leash.

Awkward moments pass.

I don't know what else to say.

Finally, Winnie suggests in a gentle voice, "I think taking the test is a good idea. Because then you'll know for sure."

I pull my gaze away from the puppy, regarding her with troubled eyes. "What if I'm not dyslexic?" Then I get to know for sure I really am dumb as a tree stump.

Winnie sighs again, looking back out to the park where a Border Collie is chasing a Frisbee. "But what if you are?"

Sometimes the toughest part is getting out of our way. Makes voting easier too. ;)