Page 43 of The Prime-Time Experiment

“Are you like that too?”

Riley paused. She had spent most of her life knowing she experienced the world differently. Whether there was a formal name for it had never felt like the important part.

“I think so,” she said. “I’ve never been assessed, so I can’t say for certain. But I do know my brain works differently to most people around me.”

Ebony frowned slightly. “Why didn’t you get tested?”

“Nobody really thought to.” The answer felt strangely simple when she said it aloud. “My dad wasn’t very involved, and because I did well at school, people assumed I was fine.”

“But you weren’t?”

Riley let out a small breath through her nose. “I managed.” Ebony waited for her to continue. “They’re not always the same thing.”

Something in Ebony’s expression shifted at that. “So people noticed?”

“Some things, yes.” Riley glanced down briefly before continuing. “I was very good academically. That tended to become the focus. If I struggled socially, or got overwhelmed, it wasn’t considered particularly important because I was still achieving what everyone expected me to achieve.”

Ebony made a face. “That seems unfair.”

Riley felt the corner of her mouth lift slightly. “In hindsight, I agree.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Ebony for a moment. “Did it make things harder?”

Riley considered the question properly. “Sometimes.” She looked around the room before her gaze settled back on Ebony. “But it also forced me to learn a lot about myself. I had to figure out what helped, what didn’t, and how to build systems that made things easier.”

“By yourself?”

Riley nodded. “Mostly.”

Ebony stared at her. “That sounds exhausting.”

Riley laughed softly before she could stop herself. “It was.”

The honesty of the answer seemed to surprise both of them. “But I don’t think I’d change it,” she added after a moment. “A lot of the things I like about myself came from learning how my brain works.”

Ebony picked at the seam of her sleeve for a second. “You could still get diagnosed though.”

“Probably.”

“Why don’t you?”

Riley met her gaze. “Because I already know who I am.”

Ebony went still. Riley thought about it for a moment before continuing. “A diagnosis might explain me to other people. It just wouldn’t explain me to myself. I’ve already spent years learning that part.”

Ebony looked down at her hands. “I like having a reason,” she admitted quietly.

“Then that’s a good thing.” Riley’s answer came immediately. “If having that explanation helps you understand yourself better, then I’m glad you have it.”

Ebony looked back up at her. “You’re really okay with it?”

Riley didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Ebony let out a small breath, like she’d been holding it longer than she realised. “I want that,” she said “To be okay with being wrong.”

“Ebony,” Riley said gently, “there is nothing wrong with the way your brain works.”

The words settled between them. “The world wasn’t designed with people like us in mind very often,” she continued. “That can make things difficult. But difficult and wrong are not the same thing.”