Dylan took my hand and held it firmly. I tried to smile at him, but my chin was trembling.
“They overheard the guys we liked saying they were going to the mall, too. My friends wanted to try to meet up with them and told me it would be better if I didn’t go.”
Dylan squeezed my hand.
“I was devastated. I knew it was the beginning of everything changing, and I couldn’t keep up anymore. My mom...she tried to help by saying it was better that they saved me from embarrassing myself in front of everyone. That I was lucky they still wanted to be my friends at all, especially now that they were trying to meet guys. That I should be grateful for the time they spent with me.”
“Baby...”
I shook my head. I couldn’t deal with his sympathy now, not about those pitiful years. “She was right. I?—”
“Juls. She was so fucking wrong.”
“I know. But she was right that I was still lucky to have them. It wasn’t easy for me to make friends. They were better than having no friends at all. For a while—for too long—I took thecrumbs they gave me, but they didn’t even try to hide it. Every time they excluded me, every story they shared that I wasn’t a part of, every time they flat-out said that something wasn’t for me, it ate away at me. Shattered what little self-esteem I’d had.”
Dylan used his free hand to wipe away my tears. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“It’s okay. It got better. I eventually met some new friends through my sister and her friends. They were from another town and knew nothing about me, so it was a fresh start. Things were still bad in school, but these new friends outside of school opened up a whole new world for me.
“For the first time, I had some control over my relationships, and I knew how to navigate it better at that age. I knew I needed to talk to people individually, even when we were in a group, and I quickly learned that if you sit really close to a boy and flirt with him, you can have a private conversation regardless of how many people are around. A sixteen-year-old boy with a girl sitting in his lap, talking quietly into his ear, will give that girl all his attention. It didn’t matter what I said or how I said it.”
Dylan’s hand tightened into a fist at his side. “They took advantage of you?” he accused with a scowl.
“No, it wasn’t like that. Luckily, they were all good kids. I guess it could’ve been bad if they weren’t, but it never went past innocent flirting and a little fooling around. It was liberating for me. Besides making great friends, having fun, and regaining some confidence with them, those times taught me how to have more control over my environment.”
He relaxed slightly, although he still didn’t look happy.
“Unfortunately, it’s no longer acceptable to sit on someone’s lap, but as I’ve gotten older with more awareness, I’ve gotten better at manipulating life to be what I need. In social situations, I try to find someone I can connect with to have a private conversation with. Or I’ll take pictures, or help serve the food, orif I’m really lucky, there will be a baby or dog around I can give all my attention to.”
“You better not sit on anyone else’s lap besides mine,” he said with a mock scowl before he smiled at me. “Seriously though, I’m so glad it’s easier for you now.”
“Thank you. It is. My dyspraxia, and my speech especially, have gotten so much better. Partly because itisbetter, and partly because I’ve learned how to manage it better. I’ve learned what works for me. As an adult, I get to choose what I do. I wish kids could be given more options. I could have avoided so much difficulty if I hadn’t been forced to participate in gym and music classes. As an adult, I never need to play a sport I don’t want to play. I don’t need to pretend to play an instrument in a concert in front of the whole school. When my school has a field day now, some teachers volunteer to be on the staff team and some participate with the kids, but I always offer to stay back with the kids who can’t handle going. Those kids may have a hard time with the change in routine, maybe even enough to hit me, but I’d take that any day over having to do another field day ever again.”
“I’ve never thought about how little choice kids have,” Dylan said. He let go of my hand and picked up his coffee mug, tapping his fingers against the side of it. “Juls, I…” He looked uncharacteristically unsure.
“It’s okay,” I rushed to reassure him. “I’m good now. I know my strengths and weaknesses. Things that come naturally to most people may take more effort for me, but that’s fine. For example, I know that I need to thoroughly focus on what I’m doing. Even things that I’m generally okay at, if something throws me off, I’m a mess. If I’m distracted, nervous, overwhelmed, or even just too tired, dyspraxia can get the best of me. But I’ve learned how to build on my strengths and surround myself with people and environments that make me feel good. I’ve accepted there are situations that just aren’t going to begood for me, but I try to minimize those. And when I can’t avoid them, I get through. I may feel uncomfortable, and my dyspraxia and insecurities do become overwhelming at times, but then I regroup and get myself back on comfortable ground.”
“Thank you for sharing all that with me. I’m sorry it was so hard for you when you were younger, but it makes me so proud of how far you’ve come. Hearing what you’ve had to deal with and how you’ve learned to adapt and overcome everything, it makes you even more incredible.”
Warmth flooded through me, his words like a caress to my soul. “Thank you,” I said simply, unable to think of any words to convey what that meant to me.
Dylan swallowed hard. I held my breath, waiting.
“I want to fit into that life with you.”
My heart skipped a beat. I wanted to scream outyes, please,and jump into his arms, but…
“I want that too, so badly. It makes me nervous, though. I’m really proud of myself, too. I know I’ve exceeded every expectation from when I was younger. I accept myself the way I am, and I like myself most of the time, but?—”
“No. Fuck that. That’s bullshit, Juls. No buts.” Dylan put down his mug and took my hands in his. “You are the kindest, most genuine woman I’ve ever met. You, Jenna, and Nicky are as close as friends can be. Those girls love you. Your students are fucking lucky as hell to have you. You’ll be an amazing lead therapist because you’re going to be able to read your colleagues just as well as you read your students. You’re fair and empathetic, and you know how to build people up, and that’s what makes a good leader. You’re fucking amazing, exactly as you are. I’m sorry if other people are too blind to see it, but that’s their fucking problem. Not yours. You’re a breath of fresh air, Juls. You’re so enthusiastic about everything you do… billiards, bowling, sex. Even just talking, you are so open and honest. Ican’t fucking wait to spend more time with you. So don’t give me some bullshit, ‘I’m good enough, but,’garbage.”
“Um, I’m sorry?”
“I don’t want your apology. I want you to tell me that you’ll try to see yourself the way I see you.”
“I reallyamhappy with myself and my life. I was trying to say that I figured out how to make it all work for me, and if it came across otherwise, well, that was the dyspraxia speaking.”
“Good.” He looked mollified. “I’m sorry for cursing so much. It pissed me off to hear you speak down about yourself.”