“Ava,” Mia said, her brows knitted together as she put her sister on notice.
My heart gave an ache for Livie. I had no idea this was happening. Tears instantly fell from Livie’s eyes, her forehead hit her crossed arms on the table. Amelia was up, going to Livie’s other side to comfort her. Dash looked as confused as me.
“I wanna… have friends. No one… likes me.” Each word was said between pain, tears, and hiccups.
“Here, baby. Stop crying,” Amelia said, pushing a napkin between her arms. “Take a drink from your juice box and find your calm. We can talk through it.”
“What about your dance classmates? Aren’t y’all all friends?” I asked, since that was why she had started dance lessons in the first place.
“They don’t like her either,” Ava blurted.
“Ava, are you talking badly about your sister?” Dash asked, using the serious tone reserved only for his work.
“No, Daddy, she doesn’t,” Mia the peacemaker jumped in. “Ava stomps on their crayons and breaks their scissors when they talk bad about Livie.”
Whoa. Where had this solid left turn come from?
“Livie,” Mrs. Pinkney said gently, but firmly. “Look at me, please.”
Livie did. Her red face and swollen eyes broke my heart in two. I couldn’t take the tears, but I knew they hit Dash harder. He looked ready to cry. The hiccups never stopped as she did her best to gain control.
“Mrs. Crabtree felt like you’d feel this way and has offered her office to become your classroom. We’ll set you up remotely with the junior high. You know the office is only a hall away from your grade. You can learn at an accelerated pace while still being with your peers.”
“So I’ll attend class online at school with Ava and Mia?” she asked, the sniffles and quick breaths still making it hard to speak. Amelia handed her the juice box and encouraged her to drink, pressing additional napkins into her hand.
The counselor’s warm, encouraging smile gave my heart a chance again as I scooped Liv into my lap, hugging her tightly.
“Yes. And you’ll probably see them more each day than you did last year,” Mrs. Pinkney said, then turned to explain that statement to the adults at the table. “As you know, they don’t attend the same classrooms together, but Livie will have her sisters popping in and out throughout the day.”
“And I’ll get recess and lunch with my sisters?” Livie asked. “Because they’re my best friends and make me stronger.” Livie raised her chin as if she’d made her decision and wouldn’t back down.
“Absolutely.”
I felt the relief flood her small body. Her hand covered mine, wrapped around her. She glanced at me with her swollen, tear-streaked face.
“I think I’m okay now,” she said and hiccupped again in my face. Her entire body shuddered.
“Livie,” Ms. Pinkney started. “You’re part of a small group of exceptionally-bright young minds. That’s the way they reference you.” She tore off a sheet of paper from her notebook and handed it to Dash. “This is the contact information for American Mensa. Mrs. Crabtree has taught Livie for the last two years and feels like she needs a support group. Once you give me the green light, I’ll send her test scores over with the other information they’ll need. They have appropriate age groups, and instruction lessons to keep their minds active. Most of the gatherings will be online, but there are in-person groups in Houston as well. They’ll require parental involvement to create safe spaces for her to meet other children like herself. I believe that’ll do her wonders in meeting friends.”
Dash took the piece of paper, reading over it before passing it to me. “Livie, if you’re in, we can do this on a trial basis. When you find your place, you’ll sprout like a weed, nothing will hold you back.”
She nodded and only gave a single hiccup while turning her body to better face me. “Paw, can we try the group in Houston? Daddy will say yes, but you have to too.”
I glanced at Dash who smirked brilliantly at me.
“Livie-baby, I’ll always do my best for you, but we didn’t know this was a problem. You need to talk to us more.”
She reached up, circling her arms around my neck, squeezing me. I accepted my hug and gave one in return while staring at Ava.
“What I want to know about now is this stepping on crayons. That seems excessive.”
“Paw, you can’t be mad. They’re mean to Livie to her face, because she’s better than they are in everything,” Ava started, talking so fast I had to replay her words over. “It makes me mad. People are stupid.”
“Ava,” Dash’s hands splayed across the table. “You aren’t helping your case by calling other children names.”
“Should we have been notified about her behavior?” I asked Mrs. Pinkney.
“I knew,” Amelia confessed, her tone holding hints of possessiveness and anger. “I’ve never disciplined her for protecting her family.”
