Silver Screens - Walker Scobell ♡

001

For a long time, life felt like one challenge after another. I struggled to make friends, and everything seemed to take me longer than it did for everyone else. My parents noticed I wasn't having the typical experience and decided to get professional advice. That's when I was diagnosed with ADHD.

Being neurodivergent wasn't easy. I spent a long time feeling frustrated and unsure about myself. Then I found the Percy Jackson series, where the demigods were portrayed as neurodivergent. I finally felt understood, and it quickly became an obsession.

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"I just finished Sea of Monsters, and I can't get enough! This book is amazing!" I said, beaming at the lunch table with my friends.

"Is that what you're reading in English class?" my friend beside me asked.

"No, but she also made a PowerPoint about it for history," another friend chimed in, sipping her chocolate milk. "What's so great about this book anyway?"

"What do you mean? It's Percy Jackson. Haven't you read it?" I replied.

"Yeah, I did," she shrugged, taking another sip of her milk. "Wasn't that great."

---

In my room, which is covered in Percy Jackson posters, with a shelf stacked with different editions of the books, I'm scrolling on my laptop. I've just heard that they're casting for a live-action adaptation, and I'm thinking about auditioning—even though I don't have much acting experience. Just then, I hear my mom calling from downstairs.

I walk over to her. "Your Aunt Lee is visiting from Canada tomorrow," she says while folding laundry. "She's bringing her boyfriend, so make sure your room is clean."

"Aye aye, Captain," I joke, giving her a salute.

"And by the way, the school called. They need you to come in for a meeting. Something about soccer," she adds as she walks over to my room to put my clothes away.

"Is it bad?" she asks.

"No."

"Did you get in another fight?"

"No."

"Did you not listen to the coach?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"Mom, I don't know. They just said they need to talk to you."

"Okay."

The next day, my mom came with me to school. While I went to class, she met with the principal and my coach. About 40 minutes later, she came back to take me out early.

In the car, she broke the news: "They're kicking you off the team." I was stunned; all I could do was stare at her.

"Why?" I finally asked.

"They said you're causing too much trouble, and your grades are too low." She was right. I had been getting into fights, and my grades weren't great.

The rest of the drive home was quiet, filled with a heavy sense of reality sinking in. My mom looked over at me, a mix of worry and disappointment on her face, and tried to offer some comfort.

"I know it's hard for you to focus sometimes, and I understand. We'll figure something out. Maybe we can find other activities where you'll do better," she said.

As we pulled into the driveway, I felt the weight of what had happened. Losing my spot on the soccer team was a wake-up call—one that meant I needed to start thinking about what to do next.