That made me feel a little better. “It’s okay. It’s hard for me too. So, the biggest thing is my speech. It affects my articulation, speed, volume, everything about how I talk. It’s also conversational skills. There’s a natural rhythm to conversations that most people just automatically get, but I don’t. I wait andwait for my turn to say something, then I think there’s a good opening in the conversation, so I speak, but I still end up interrupting. I also have no rhythm at all. I can’t clap or sway to a beat. My singing is so bad, I even lip-sync to the happy birthday song. I have auditory processing issues, so it’s hard to listen when there’s background noise or if I’m not really focused. Soft background music is especially hard because I can’t understand it easily, but I can’t tune it out either.” Damn, that was a lot of big words to get out. I knew I’d stumbled over a few, but he didn’t look confused or frustrated, so I continued.
“I’m not good at any sports that require hand-eye coordination. I can’t catch, throw, kick, or hit a ball. I also have really bad time management skills. I’m late all the time and have a bad sense of timing for knowing how long things take. My directional skills are bad too. It takes me a long time to learn how to navigate to new places, I confuse my left and right sometimes, and I have a difficult time even following the GPS when there’s a lot going on around me. My body awareness is off, I move awkwardly, and I don’t know how to adjust my body to make it do what I want and need it to do. It’s like a clumsiness, but a little different.”
I paused to take a breath. This was the most important part, and I had to get it out clearly. His hand on my leg stayed gentle, but I saw his left hand tighten on the wheel. Was he upset with me? Shit.
“The more pressure I feel, the worse it all gets,” I explained. “It’s unpredictable and the more important something is, the more likely I am to mess it up. Even if you think it’s not so bad now, meeting new people that I want to impress will probably make it worse. Your friends and family won’t think very highly of me when they meet me. They might not understand what I say. Hell, you might not understand what I say half the time, but you probably already know that. I’m an embarrassing mess at socialevents, since they usually include everything that I’m not good at. There’s going to be a lot of things that I can’t do well. I’m really not good girlfriend material.”
9
Dylan
Icouldn’t listen anymore. There was a lot to unpack in there, and I had a lot of research about dyspraxia to do. But I had to stop Juliette from continuing on with everything she saw as flaws with herself. I had a sickening feeling she could go on all day if I let her. I had a few questions I needed answered, then I was going to turn this around for her.
I interrupted her to ask, “What happened at dinner? Was it worse because you were nervous?”
“Yes, it was kind of our first date, so I was really nervous. Also, it was too loud. And I couldn’t pronounce anything on the menu.”
“It definitely was our first date. I’m sorry the restaurant was too loud. I’m glad I know now so I can choose more carefully going forward. Can I ask why you wanted to go bowling today instead of last night?”
“Bowling is fun, but I suck at it. I’d rather embarrass myself around a few families on a Saturday afternoon than the teenagers or people our age who would be there on a Friday night.”
That pissed me off. I wanted to hurt every asshole who’d ever made her feel less than. I continued with my next question, my most important one, really hoping she’d say yes. “May I park the car and hold you now?”
Her gaze, which had been fixed on her fidgeting hands, sprang up towards me. With a quick glance away from the road, I could see the surprise and relief in her eyes. Did she really think I’d kick her to the curb after her confession?
“Yes, please.”
Thank fuck. She’d sounded so robotic before, but I heard the slightest crack to her voice at the word “please.” Not that I wanted her to cry, but the coldness had worried me more. I drove another few minutes until I could turn onto a small side street and park the car.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I gestured for her to do the same, then I reached over the console and pulled her into my arms as best I could in the confines of the car. I held her tight, hating the tension I felt in her body.
I needed to say something to reassure her, but what? I didn’t want to sound like I was blowing off her concerns or negating her feelings about it. I thought back to how she started the conversation in her house.
“Thank you for opening up to me. That must have been incredibly difficult for you. You need to know, I still like you, Juls. As a matter of fact, I like you even more now that I know how strong you are.”
I couldn’t see her face, but the surprise was clear in her voice. “What? I’m not strong.”
“You’re strong as fuck, Juls.”
She giggled despite the serious conversation. “You can’t say that!”
Her giggle filled my chest. Not only was I making that my mantra for her, I’d do anything to keep hearing that sound.
“Only way to convey just how strong you are. Nothing else comes close. I can’t wait to hear all the stories about your life. The good and the bad. I bet the more I hear, the more impressed I’ll be. I was already in awe of how passionate and empathetic you are with the kids you work with, and now I can see how you use your own experiences to help them. They’re lucky to have you.”
“I do feel good about work. And my dyspraxia is obviously part of it. But you need to know that I’m far better at interacting with my students than I am with most typical adults. Believe me when I tell you, I’m really not good girlfriend material.”
“Can you please stop trying to talk me out of being with you? It’s not going to happen. I’ve already seen a lot of your dyspraxia at dinner, and it didn’t turn me off then. It’s definitely not going to now. You can’t pronounce words on a menu? I’ll order for you. You don’t want to sing or dance, we’ll find other things to do. It’s all going to be okay. Trust me.”
Juliette pulled back and gazed at me, hope and fear swirling in her eyes. “But?—”
“No buts, not right now. Thank you for sharing with me. You trusting me with this means everything to me. Can we go bowling now? Let me show you how much fun we can have together.”
“I suck at bowling.”
“So? I don’t care if you bowl a thirty or a three hundred. I just want to spend time with you. I had the best time playing pool with you. Let’s go repeat that with bowling, okay?”
Juliette nodded her acquiescence, and we drove towards the bowling alley, holding hands in mostly comfortable silence. Icould tell she was still lost in her thoughts, and I had a feeling I’d hate what she was thinking. She was too hard on herself.