“It was better than the last time I took it, but still not great.”
She told them about her freak-out at the beginning of the test and how she was finally able to relax and get through it once Jamar calmed her down. She also told them her score, because she knew she didn’t have to worry about these two judging her.
“I know it’s not the best, but considering that I scored a twelve the last time, I’m super excited.”
“You should be. A four-point improvement is huge,” London said. “I’m sure nerves had something to do with it. If you continue practicing, you’re going to raise that score.”
If she could guarantee that each practice test would end the way yesterday’s had, she could be talked into taking one every day of the week and twice on Sundays.
“The thing is, I think I have a learning disorder,” Taylor announced. “And maybe an anxiety disorder too. Although the anxiety may just be a by-product of the learning disorder.”
“Test anxiety is pretty common,” Samiah said. She looked to London. “Is it the same thing as a learning disorder?”
“It’s considered more of a symptom,” Taylor answered. “I’ve read up on it. To be honest, I’ve kinda suspected that this was my issue for a while, but I ignored it because that seemed like the easier thing to do.”
“What changed?” London asked.
“Jamar,” she answered honestly. “His friend Silas, the one you mentioned a while back,” she directed at Samiah, “he had a learning disorder. Jamar noticed that I was doing some of the same things that Silas used to do.”
“You should get a proper diagnosis, especially if you suspect you have an anxiety disorder in addition to a learning disorder,” London said. “There’s nothing wrong with seeing a therapist.”
“Who said there was anything wrong with seeing a therapist?” Taylor asked.
She shrugged. “Well, I know how the black community can be when it comes to mental health. My grandmother thought anyone with depression just wasn’t praying hard enough.”
“Mine too,” Samiah said.
“You don’t grow up as a military kid without seeing a therapist at least once in your life,” Taylor said. At least that had been the case for her. “I started having nightmares during one of my dad’s deployments back when we lived in Germany. I was a regular at the Family Life Center for much of the seventh grade.”
Yet her issues with school had never surfaced in any of the therapy sessions she’d had on base. She’d never considered the anxiety that gripped her whenever she sat down to take a test to be anything other than a normal reaction to a scary situation.
Whyhadn’t she made that connection? Why hadn’t anyone else? She’d attended a half-dozen schools through her elementary, junior high, and high school years, and no one—not a single teacher, counselor,anyone—had suspected that there was an issue.
All these years she’d thought school just wasn’t her thing, that she was wired differently from all the other people who managed to get through a typical school day without suffering panic attacks.
The fact is, shewasdifferent from those people. She just never realized that the thing that made her different was treatable.
“I have to wait until after my dad’s birthday party,” Taylor said. “But I’m going to look into scheduling an appointment for an evaluation once we get back from North Carolina.”
“We?” London asked, her brows arching. “You mean the fake boy toy is meeting the parents?”
“Umm . . . about that,” Taylor said. “I don’t think I can call him a fake boyfriend after the multiple orgasms he’s given me this week.”
Samiah and London both gasped, then screamed, “Bitch!”
Taylor burst out laughing. “It kinda just happened,” she said. “Actually, that’s not true. I didn’t want to admit what I was feeling, but I really do like him,” she said. And she realized she meant it.
“I knew it,” London said. “Didn’t I call it?” She pointed her crochet hook at Taylor. “If you even try to put me in a cotton-candy-pink bridesmaid gown, we’re fighting. I’d prefer this color,” she said, holding up the deep purple rectangular swatch she’d crocheted.
“There will be no bridesmaid gowns,” Taylor said. “We’ve only been dating for a few days. I meanfor realdating.”
“You two make a cute couple,” Samiah said. “But how will this affect Taylor’d Conditioning?”
“I don’t know that it matters anymore. When we first started this whole pretend dating thing, the deal was that Jamar would become a spokesperson for Taylor’d Conditioning once he makes it back into the NFL, but who knows what Taylor’d Conditioning will even look like in another year, or once I earn my degree?”
There were so many unknowns.
“I kinda just want to enjoy being with him right now and figure the rest out later. Does this mean that I’m breaking the promise I made for my boyfriend project?”
