“Call me Adam.” He smirked. “Or I answer to Coach if you prefer. Mr. Peters feels so stuffy.” He scrunched his nose.
I took a silent breath and held it. Okay, no time like the present. But where to start?
“Thanks for coming, Adam.” I gestured over to the two foot table that held the papers I had put together for the meeting. I walked over and sat, rolling my fidget ring one last time. I watched as he stalked towards the table, looked at the child size chairs, andpulled out the tiny chair and sat gingerly on the edge, his knees bent up almost to his chest.
I had an adult size chair on the other side of the table, but he must not have seen it, and I wasn’t sure if I should point that out now.
Besides, he seemed less scary, scrunched like this, and honestly downright adorable.
“So what’s up?” Adam smiled in my direction, and I wondered if that smile would stay in place when I brought up testing and support for Danny.
I bit my bottom lip and slid the folder towards him.
Breathe in for three, hold, then out.
“I called this meeting because I am worried about Danny.”
His head reared back. “What do you mean?” His eyes no longer held amusement. He grabbed the folder and began flipping through it, looking at the half done assignments.
“For one, he is exhausted, and often falls asleep in class or is completely zoned out.”
Adam flinched. “That’s probably on me.” He scratched the back of his neck with his right arm, and I was proud of my restraint for not staring at his bicep. “The neighbor’s fence broke, and his cows got out, and then we had a few late basketball practices this week.” He shrugged. “If I go, he comes with me. There’s not much I can do about that.”
I could feel the energy shift in the room, the little sting of confrontation poking at my skin.
“I am a single dad. What do you expect?” He folded his arms across his chest; his biceps pushed forward with the effort. “Look, I’m sure you mean well, but I get enough advice on how to raise Danny from everyone else in this town.” He raised his left eyebrow.
This was not going well. “As his teacher, I thought I might provide a different insight to Danny, that’s all.” I held my hands up betweenus.
Adam sighed. “I will try to get him to sleep earlier this week. Maybe he can go to my mom’s more.” He looked down at the stack of papers of unfinished homework assignments. “Are we done?“
I cleared my throat. “I’m afraid not.” I tried to fill my tight lungs with a deep breath. “I have some other things I was hoping to discuss.”
He side-eyed me and leaned back into the chair, causing it to nearly snap before he surged forward. “Is Danny misbehaving in class?” His eyes held worry, but his body was rigid.
“No, it’s not that. It’s…” Maybe I should have practiced this conversation with someone, this was hardly a wing-it situation.
I clasped my hands in my lap so I would stop fidgeting. Might as well get it out there as fast as I can. “I have noticed some signs that make me wonder if Danny is perhaps neurodivergent and would benefit from testing and further assistance. I am not qualified to diagnose, but?—”
“Neuro what?” He tilted his jaw towards me. It seemed like he was still trying to process everything I had said.
I tried to swallow. “Neurodivergent. It just means their brains work a little differently from others…”
“Are you saying he is stupid?” His voice and eyebrows sank lower.
“NO!” I leaned back, and waved my hands in front of me. “I would never!”
“So, what is he doing that’s wrong then?” He gestured with his hand over the folder. “So he missed a few assignments… big deal. That is as much on me as on him.”
The cheery, carefree side of Adam was nowhere in sight, replaced by his angry papa bear side. This was definitely a side I’d never seen from him.
I cleared my throat trying to loosen the tight muscles. “Again, not wrong.” I hated that anytime someone was different,we labeled it as wrong. “I’m simply stating his brainmayfunction and perceive things differently than some of his peers.”
“Why?” he growled. His brown eyes pierced mine and left no room for hiding.
I blew out a tight breath and dropped eye contact. Maybe I should have left things alone. But I hated to think some child out there might feel misunderstood.
“Why,” Coach Peters repeated, his lips in a scowl.
