Page 30 of When You Left Me Speechless

Before Logan can say anything, Beth jumps in, explaining who I am, and then gives me the floor. I stumble through explaining my evaluations. I’m usually not this nervous, but Ifeel like I can’t get enough air, and my voice is shaky and begins to crack. “So, um, as you can see, Abby is a very smart girl. She scored above average on all of my assessments, indicating she, um, doesn’t qualify for speech services at this time. I understand she currently has a B in Mr. Peterson’s class, however, um, I don’t think it is because she has a speech or language disorder.” I take a deep breath and grab a sip of water before my voice gives out completely. Beth gives me a reassuring look.

“How does a student have any authority to make that call? You aren’t even a licensed therapist. For all I know, you have no idea what you’re doing and gave one or more of those little tests of yours incorrectly,” Mrs. Wilson bites out. Her arms are crossed across her chest, and she stares me down like it’s her personal mission to ruin me.

I’m unsure what to say, but I know I must say something. I open my mouth to speak, but Logan beats me to it.

“Mrs. Wilson, with all due respect, it seems the class you are most concerned about is mine, so there is no need to take out your frustration on Ms. Collins.” He shoots me a sly grin before he continues. “I would like the opportunity to discuss Abby’s performance in my class and why her grade might not be where you want it.” He pauses for a quick second and flips through the small stack of papers sitting in front of him. “As both of my colleagues have described, Abby is a bright kid. She might be one of the brightest in all my classes. However she has a B because she is missing an assignment from the week she was out. I believe you all had pulled her from school to go on vacation to Paris. Am I correct in thinking that?”

Mrs. Wilson stares him down but doesn’t answer.

“Anyway,” he continues, “she completed most of the make-up assignments but didn’t complete one of them, so she was given a zero. The assignment she didn’t complete is weighted much heavier, so as you can understand, it droppedher A average to a B.” Everyone at the table is silent, but he continues to speak.

“Now, I think we can agree Ms. Collins’s tests are a much better indicator of your daughter’s speech and language abilities than her grade in my class. I would be happy to allow Abby to turn in the assignment late; however, the highest grade she would be able to receive would be a fifty.”

Mrs. Wilson lets out a frustrated breath. “So what you are all telling me is she doesn’t get extra help like all of the other students at this school because of these little tests, half of which were given to her by an incompetent girl?” Her voice is raised, and her eyes are solely on me.

This time, Beth chimes in, “Mrs. Wilson, please, we do not need to resort to name-calling. Ms. Collins is only a few months away from being a licensed therapist. I supervised the administration of all the tests and their scoring. I assure you Ms. Collins did everything correctly.”

Mrs. Wilson stands from the table and slams her hands down. “This is absurd. You will hear from me about this again.” She grabs her belongings and storms towards the door. Mrs. Calloway stands and follows her, muttering something about understanding Mrs. Wilson is upset, but wanting to finish the meeting. They don’t return. I choke back the tears rising in my throat. My chest feels tight and my breathing feels shallow. The words “incompetent girl” play on repeat in my head like some sort of broken record.

After a few minutes of no one really knowing what to do or say, the school psychologist excuses herself. She offers me an encouraging smile on the way out the door.

The fact it went so badly and it’s my fault has my stomach in knots. The walls of the conference room feel like they are closing in on me. I take another sip of my water and it’s empty.Fuck.I feel short of breath and I want to get out of here.

Beth stands next and looks down at me, “Why don’t youtake a minute to yourself? Please know you did nothing wrong, and some parents will be like that no matter who you are or what you do. Don’t take it personally. I’ll grab your one o’clock and you come back to the speech room whenever you're ready.” I nod. She walks out leaving Logan and me sitting at the table.

He stands up, and I think he might just leave without saying anything. Tears run down my cheeks and my breathing turns quick and labored. He shuts the door and then rounds the table to take the seat next to me.

“You okay, chatterbox?” He looks at me concerned.

“No,” I say, trying to control my breathing. “Panic attack,” I stammer through rushed breaths.

“Oh, shit. Here put your head between your legs and try to breathe. Should I get help?”

I shake my head frantically and try to take a deep breath. He begins to rub my back in slow, uniform circles. “Breathe. It’s going to be okay,” he assures me. “Just breathe.”

My breathing begins to match his and centers me. His hand doesn’t leave my back and I feel my heart rate start to come down.

“That’s it, chatterbox, just breathe. It’s alright,” he says after what feels like an hour. “Can I get you anything?”

I raise my head to meet his eyes. “Um, some water, maybe?” He nods, picks up my water bottle, and runs out of the room. I immediately miss the feel of his touch.

“Here you go,” he says, setting the water on the table when he returns. “You okay?”

I nod. “Yeah, sorry about that.” I take a long sip of water.

“Do they happen often?”

“No, well they did when I was young, but that’s the first one I’ve had in a long time.” I pause. “Thank you. That was short compared to how they usually are and, well, thank you, I guess for now and earlier with Mrs. Wilson.”

“Fuck her, Poppy.”

I turn to face him, wiping my face with my trembling hand. My mascara smears on my skin. “Huh?”

He looks at me, this time locking his chestnut eyes on mine. “I said, fuck her. People like her don’t deserve your tears. She has no idea who you are. She has no idea you are an incredible speech therapist. So, fuck her. She picked you to be her punching bag because you were the easy target. She should have never made you feel the way she did.”

“I know, but now I’m wondering if maybe I did something wrong, you know?” I can’t help but think the meeting would have gone much better if Beth or Olive had been the speech therapists to deliver the news. My chest squeezes. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.“I could barely speak. I sounded like an idiot.”

He reaches out and moves a strand of my hair behind my ear. His fingers ever so slightly brush against my temple, causing me to shiver. He lingers there for a moment and then pulls his hand away. “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare let her make you doubt yourself. She is mad because we aren’t going to make it easier for her kid to get all A’s. A child who literally could have anything she wants whenever she wants it. Abby has all of her father’s money at her disposal, and she’s smart. She will be more than fine.”

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