Page 42 of The Prime-Time Experiment

Declan shot him a pointed look. “It’s enough of one.”

Tyler sighed dramatically and followed anyway. Before disappearing through the doorway, Declan glanced back at the girls.

“You two alright here?” Ebony’s attention shifted to Riley.

Riley nodded once. “Yes.”

“Cool.”

Tyler was still muttering about parallel conversations as they left, their voices fading gradually into the rest of the house.

The room felt different once they were gone.

Across from her, Ebony lingered near the doorway, still taking in the space around her. Her attention moved from one thing to the next without hurry, as though she was settling herself into the room piece by piece rather than all at once.

Eventually she caught Riley watching her. Their eyes met. Neither of them looked away. The silence stretched comfortably between them, unburdened by the expectation that somebody should fill it. After a few seconds, Ebony rubbed her thumb against the side of her finger and asked, almost tentatively,

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Ebony hesitated. “At school...” She looked down briefly. “People think I’m weird.”

There was no self-pity in the statement. Just resignation, as though she was repeating something she’d heard often enough that it no longer surprised her. Riley nodded.

“They say I take too long to answer things,” Ebony continued. “Or that I miss stuff that’s obvious. Or that I talk wrong.” She shrugged. “I’m not trying to.”

“I know.”

Ebony looked up immediately. “You do?”

“Yes.” Riley’s answer came without hesitation. “Because people said the same things about me.”

Something softened in Ebony’s expression. A moment later she lowered herself onto the floor, apparently without deciding to. Riley followed after a brief pause, sitting opposite her.

For a while neither of them spoke. Then Ebony frowned slightly. “Do you ever feel like your brain’s doing something different to everyone else’s?” she asked. “But you don’t know how to explain it properly?”

“Yes.” The certainty of the answer seemed to settle something.

Ebony released a small breath. “They took me to this lady a while ago. She asked me a bunch of questions and gave me puzzles and stuff.”

Riley waited. “She said my brain just works differently.” Ebony picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. “Dad says it’s called autism.”

Riley nodded slowly. “That aligns with what you’ve described.”

Ebony watched her carefully. “You don’t think that’s bad?”

“Not at all.” Some of the tension slipped from Ebony’s shoulders.

“People make it sound like it is sometimes,” she admitted. “Like there’s something wrong that needs fixing.”

Riley was quiet for a moment, considering the question properly instead of dismissing it. “Do you think there is?”

Ebony drew one knee closer to her chest. “Sometimes,” she said after a moment. “Not because I’m wrong, just because everything else is so loud.”

Something tightened unexpectedly in Riley’s chest. “Yes,” she said softly.

Ebony looked up. It was only one word, but it carried enough understanding that she didn’t feel the need to explain further.