I've learned that I come across as a naturally anxious person. I had my structures, goals, schedules etc. etc.. And to some people that meant I was ready to curl into a ball of despair if anything deviated from my planned outcomes.

To some extent that was true, but I also knew how to take things relatively as they go. Life was all about the unexpected, the sooner we understood that the better.

When I absently checked my school email for the third time in the day like I always did, I didn't expect the correspondence that landed in my inbox, especially not this early in the school year.

Stevens & Winslow, one of the top marketing agencies in the state, wanted me to set up a phone screening for their internship program. They were my top two internship choices, so as I scrolled through the email, a jolt of excitement filled my tightened chest.

Things were looking up for me this semester. Finally, for once in my life, I was headed towards a bright path.

I quickly opened up a draft to start my reply, typing furiously on the keys of my phone while I maneuvered my way to Fulton Hall, the building that hosted a majority of Claudia's classes.

I only had two electives here my entire time at Clayton, and being so used to the modern sleekness of the business building, it always surprised me how old-school this one felt. An ancient outdated artifact of dark brown and beige halls, wooden desks, and withering chalkboards. It even had an old smell to it, not foul, it was somewhat weirdly nostalgic.

I scheduled my phone screening for next week, and leaned against the wall of room 305, waiting for the last minutes of Claudia's lecture to finish.

While her class was dismissed and her fellow students hurriedly walked out, Claudia stayed behind a few minutes later to talk to her professor. After finishing their discussion, she grabbed her book bag and headed straight to me.

The two space buns her dark hair was in, bobbed as she walked, her face shining, not just from the bright smile she wore but also a combination of her naturally doe-y skin and skilled makeup technique.

"Hey, just chatted with professor Campbell, he's totally cool to talk to you," she said.

"Great, what time can he meet with me?" I asked. I was still uneasy about this, but I felt it was the best thing to do.

"Right now. He has an hour until his next class starts, you're all his." She motioned towards the door just in time for her professor to look up and send me a wave. "I have to get to my next class, alright, I'll see you later." She gave me a quick hug and skipped down the hall.

I pulled open the creaking door of her classroom and approached professor Campbell with some hesitancy. Something about this felt wrong, me being the one to seek out these answers alone. A part of me also felt like I needed to, like I had to somewhat confirm my suspicions before I tried to put any accusations out there that could further mess with anyone's self esteem.

Professor Campbell was a middle aged man, sagging pale skin and gray hair still full with an intact hairline. He gave me an inquisitive look with the arch in his sparse brows and tight pressed mouth. Not exactly friendly but not unwelcoming either.

"Hello." I waved awkwardly and took a seat next to his long stretched desk.

"You're Claudia Pham's friend. You wanted to ask me something?" He said.

"Well, I should say more so discuss, than ask. Given your background in special education, I thought you might be the best person to talk to about this."

"My first masters was in special education and I've worked in the field for over twenty years, so yes, I would be the best person. What are your concerns?" He leaned closer, a smile now on his face.

"I have this friend..." I decided to stay vague, and deterred my eyes from his. "And he's been really struggling with school lately. Actually his whole life, he says. He's this top athlete so at first I just thought he was another lazy jock that wanted a puppet to do everything for him, but I quickly realized that wasn't the case. When he reads long forms of text he often can't explain what he's read moments later. He mixes up some of his letters very often, when he's on one subject for longer than twenty minutes he'll lose focus and become sort of jittery even."

I tried to remember everything and explain it to professor Campbell easily. Typically I'd write notes, have all my thoughts fully detailed and memorized, but I couldn't bring myself to do that this time.

I remembered a few more concerns and voiced them to him, all while he listened diligently and nodded his head. "So, I take it as you suspect this friend may have some sort of learning challenge? He's an athlete, correct? May I ask what sport he plays?"

"Yes, he plays football," I said.

Professor Campbell scratched his chin and I detected an alarm to the look in his eyes.

"First, we can't make a diagnosis or attach any labels until this friend gets evaluated, and based on the information you've relayed to me, I believe there's enough cause for an evaluation. If they haven't already, I'd suggest a checkup with their primary care physician as well. With a sport like football, especially, the constant impact over the years could potentially cause brain damage. You never know."

"Brain Damage? Do you think he might have CTE? Could that be the cause of his academic problems?"

My pulse began to quicken, my stomach began to turn. A learning disability was one thing, a traumatic brain injury was in a completely different stratosphere. It could cause extreme cognitive decline over the years, it could cause Nate to completely reshape the way he lived his life. The idea was devastating.

"I'm afraid I'm not a doctor so I'd have no way of knowing, and I believe CTE can only be diagnosed after death, so the doctors would have no way of knowing either, at least not for a very long time" he said, "But that's an extreme case. Start by making sure your friend gets checked out, if he feels like he has any CTE symptoms, do make sure he communicates that to his doctor." He took notice of my worried face, the way I chewed away at my fingers, a habit I was always trying to quit. " If it is simply a learning disability, the good news is Clayton has a lot of resources to accommodate him. I like to tell my students, everyone is wired differently. And different does not mean inferior, it does not mean less intelligent, and it does not mean less worthy. It simply means different. Its a matter of understanding one's unique challenges and adjusting the way you introduce the world to them. Whatever the problem might be, you and your friend will get through it."

"Thank you." I abruptly rose up. "Thank you so much for taking the time to discuss this matter. I appreciate it."

I bolted out of the door, letting his response linger in the air.

"No problem. Come back any time," he said.

***

That feeling in the pit of my stomach didn't go away after leaving professor Campbell's room, it didn't go away when I left Fulton hall, and it didn't go away when I made it to my Corporate finance class, especially with Nate smiling at me, wanting to chat before class started.

I took out my phone and pretended to be busy with an important message, then I spent the rest of that class, and subsequently the day, ignoring him.

Unfortunately we had a tutoring session today, so I couldn't ignore him for long. In the blink of an eye, our last class ended and I was in the library back in our same study room, left to contemplate my earlier discussion.

Nate burst through the door, a cup of coffee and a small bag in his hand.

"You're late," I said and looked back down at my laptop screen, where I quickly exited from the article I was reading.

I was further reviewing different learning disabilities; their signs, their challenges, and most importantly, the steps needed to work through them.

"And you're grumpy, so I figured I'd get you some coffee and a pastry, and hope that you don't spend the next sixty minutes chewing my head off." He took a seat on the swivel chair next to me, and slid the cup and bag my way.

I let out a sigh and readjusted a bobby pin in my bun, it felt too tight. "Thank you. I'm sorry I was just in my head earlier, I have a lot of things I'm constantly thinking about. I didn't mean to direct any malice towards you."

"Like what?" He asked. "You can talk to me about stuff, if you want. I'm a good listener and I only judge a little bit."

"Only a little bit, huh?" A laugh inadvertently left my mouth. I had to catch myself as soon as it came out, I had to remember the turmoil I was in.

"Just a tiny bit, and I like to be fair so when I tell you stuff you can judge me too."

I watched him for a beat, watched the easygoing smile on his face, the way he leaned back in his chair comfortably.

"Have you gone to the doctors lately?" I asked.

"The doctors? Why?"

"Well it's good to get a yearly checkup, you know. It gives you the chance to really talk to your doctor, let them know if you've been experiencing any concerning things relating to your brain..or body as a whole. I know being an athlete takes a toll. You need to look after yourself. Get your health checked out."

"Leah, I've been an athlete since I was eight, I know how to look after my body. Plus we have to do a physical each year before a new season starts. I'm fresh out of Dr. Patel's office and I've been all clear. Thank you for the advice, though, I didn't know you cared so much about my body." He was taking this as a joke, another banter session that would elicit his usual look of amusement.

"Let's take out your laptop and start some homework," I shifted the topic.

I wish it were just another back and forth.

Could he possibly know? Did his parents notice his struggles early on and seek help, a diagnosis? The signs usually showed up early, and I'm sure they had the resources to get him the extra help he needed.

But if he knew then why did he seem so lost, so dejected when it came to his studies? He showed no knowledge of any techniques that typically helped those who had learning disabilities. He knew of no way to work around his challenges, he simply relied on me to help on all fronts. And worst of all, he constantly questioned his intelligence.

He didn't know. I had to remember what professor Campbell said, I couldn't give him a diagnosis until he was actually evaluated, but if there was something for him to know, he definitely didn't know it.

So what was I to do? I was helping him to the best of my abilities, his grades did go up. At the same time, I was only a business major, I didn't have any experience in education, much less special education. What if he needed more specialized help? What if I wasn't equipped to get him the grades he needed to continue another year? What would that mean for our deal, my internship spot at NextQuest?"

"Leah." Nate began snapping his finger in my face. "Earth to Leah. It looks like your soul left your body. What the hell could you be thinking so hard about?"

I focused back on him, on his face, still glinting with happiness.

"I heard back from this internship I applied to. They want me to do a phone screening." I lied, technically. That was still on the back of my mind.

"Oh, well that's great. A cause for celebration." He squeezed my right arm.

While I was dozing off into another segment of my manic Leah disorder, he seemed to have scooted himself closer to me. Our knees were touching, I could smell his cologne, catch the freshness of his breath as he spoke.

"Not really. A phone screening is nothing. Just a ten minute conversation overviewing the company and role I applied for. Basically everything written on the application form, spoken back to me."

"I think it's a big deal, so next meeting I'll bring you a cake," he said.

"Please don't buy me a cake."

"You don't like cake?"

"I like cake, I just don't think it's necessary for you to buy one. Cakes are for special occasions, don't ruin its sanctity by using it for unserious purposes."

"Okay, Ms. Stokes. I'm sorry, Ms. Stokes. We can now begin our lesson, Ms. Stokes."

I shook my head. He was making me laugh again, and this time, I didn't make myself stop it.

We dove into his homework, and as I worked through it with him, I secretly wrote down each time he struggled with something, each paragraph of text he couldn't summarize, each math equation he forgot, each word he misspelled.

I was going to work through it with him to the best of my abilities. Continue to give it my all. It's led to success so far, but if I started to fail, if he started to fail, then I'd have a conversation with him and we'd take it from there. Either way, by the end of the semester, I was going to recommend him getting evaluated. For now, I'd keep it to myself. 

A/N: Do you think Leah's plan is a good idea or will it blow up in her face?  How would you guys have personally handled things?

I went back and forth about this particular aspect of the storyline, I won't lie. I know this is a sensitive subject, and it's something  a lot of people deal with, so my intentions are to handle everything with as much care as possible. My characters are flawed, (Not in terms of any implied or confirmed learning disabilities, of course) and you will continue to see their flaws as the story resumes, but I hope you'll still be able to see a good representation of certain people's struggles.  

With that being said, what do you think of the story as a whole so far? What do you think about the characters, I'd love some feedback as always. Please vote and share if you've enjoyed!