“Now, Orion,” Rockwell said. “There’s no need to bring up a private matter at the table.”
I stared.Private matter? Among family?
“But there’s a reason, Father, and Harper helped me find it. My piano teacher too, and I…well…”
I bit my lip and wished we’d been seated next to each other so I could take his hand. Odin sat frozen, his gaze ping-ponging back and forth, while Octavian watched the scene with wide eyes.
Orion heaved a breath. “I have dyslexia.”
“Oh.” Celeste’s hand went to her throat. She looked to Rockwell from her end of the table. “H-How do you know?”
“I was evaluated. Privately,” he added when their eyes widened inalarm.
“And what did they say?” Celeste said when her husband remained quiet.
Orion explained his diagnosis in full, and a tense silence descended.
“You have ADHD,” Rockwell said finally, frowning, as if he preferred his conclusion to everything his son had just explained.
“Yes, but dyslexia too,” Orion said uncertainly, and every fear he’d had about feelingless thanor stupid or not enough were loaded into those four words, so much so that Ididwant to scream at the top of my lungs or burst into tears.
“But…you read so well, dear,” Celeste said. “In fact, of all your brothers, you read more books…”
“Yes, I can read, but it’s a struggle,” he said. “I need context. Shorter text gives me a hard time, which is why my test scores are so bad. I can do better—perform better academically—if I have help. Accommodations. My teacher can help me—”
“I don’t understand,” his father said. “Dyslexia, as far as I understand it, is a learning disability. People with it are not…” He shifted his large frame.
“Smart?” I said, unable to keep my mouth shut a moment longer.
The entire table looked to me. Orion shook his head almost imperceptibly, but I ignored him. I couldn’t help myself.
“There is no correlation between intelligence and dyslexia, Mr. Mercer,” I said, as if I were giving a formal presentation. “It is a learning processing condition, in which one’s brain organizes and codes information differently. That’s all. People with dyslexia are no different intellectually from anyone else and can land anywhere on the spectrum. But Orion happens to be brilliant. So brilliant, in fact, he’s designated as 2e, or twice exceptional. For dyslexia and his high intelligence and musical aptitude.”
Rockwell pursed his lips. “Musical aptitudeisn’t the point,” he said. “It’s—”
“It’s exactly the point!” Octavian shouted suddenly, shocking theroom like a bolt of lightning.
“Octavian—” his mother began mildly.
“Twice. Exceptional,” he said, banging his fist on the table with each word, knocking his water glass over.
“That’s enough, son,” Rockwell said, unperturbed as a servant hurried in to clean up the mess while another replaced his water glass.
“Forgive Octavian, Harper,” Celeste said with a tight smile. “He’s under a lot of school pressure himself, aren’t you dear?”
Octavian gazed at his mother from under his curls but said nothing. He quietly excused himself from the table and left the room. There were a few beats of nothing, and already I was beginning to understand the silence in this house was frequent and came in a hundred shades and flavors.
Finally, Celeste turned to Orion. “Darling, you’re certain about…this?”
“Yes, Mum,” he said, still looking to where Octavian had gone. “It explains everything.”
Celeste looked to Rockwell, and a silent dialogue passed between them. Finally, Mr. Mercer steepled his hands. “Very well. We’ll ensure the Academy provides you with proper accommodations.”
“Thank you.”
Odin breathed a sigh of relief only I could hear, and Orion looked visibly relieved. Octavian’s outburst was already forgotten, as if it never happened. The tension at the table loosened, except mine. I waited for Orion’s parents to apologize to him. For one or both to show any kind of remorse for all the silent suffering their son had endured fora decadeunder a misdiagnosis.
Nothing.
