Alterity

Chapter One

I twiddle my thumbs, alternating between rocking and swaying back and forth in my chair, which feels the need to let out a horrific squeak with each movement. I've been sitting here for what seems like hours and the nerves are far past getting to me at this point.

Mrs. Sig looks from her notebook and smiles. "Almost done, Erik. Promise. Just finishing up the last bit of writing here."

"What are you even writing?" I ask, craning my neck to try and get a peek. "How many ways even are there to write 'stupid?'"

She huffs at me. "You are not stupid and I don't want to hear that kind of talk from you. I'm finished now anyway—why don't you get going back to class?"

"Finally," I groan, standing up. 

"See you later," She says, eyes still down on her work.

"Uh-huh."

This might by far be the worst first week of school I have ever had in my life. On top of being in an entirely new place for freshman year, I'm stuck doing testing with a special education specialist for practically all of the first two days. It's not like I don't know that I need help or anything, but you'd think there'd be a way they could do it that was—I don't know—a tad more discreet.

The Ducharme School is a specialized school that provides accommodations and support services to students with a whole range of differences. I was sent here due to my struggles with intellectual disability. Not that you asked, but I have autism—super high functioning, obviously. I'm kind of an autism rarity, actually. See, I'm great with language and words but have virtually no ability to process visual-spatial information. Like, I'm 15 and I still can't tie shoes. Yeah, I know, it's mortifying.

That's one reason I'm at The Ducharme School, actually: Their ASD accreditations and intellectual disability testing services. The Ducharme School also has programs for neurotypical students that are from all sorts of various backgrounds. Like, for instance, every classroom has American Sign Language interpreters as there are a number of deaf students. I've been all over Chicago Public Schools and this place is definitely different. Whether that is in a good or bad way, I am not yet sure. 

My name is Erik, by the way. Erik Morris. Not that you'll remember.