Another entry in the diary of an 80’s neurodiverse schoolboy

English and I’m at the front of the class, this is a nightmare!
I can feel eyes burning the back of my head causing it to flick back and forth uncontrollably, why do I do this? Will it ever stop?
I’m sure people can see my head moving they must think I’m a freak, why is it, the harder I try to stop the worse it gets?
Ok now concentrate, try to forget about it and see if it stops.
Miss Smart is talking and now she is looking at me, this make my eyes roll wildly around in their sockets. Head down and hide your face so she can’t see the mental looking 14yr old head flicking boy with the rolling eyes.
Why doesn’t anyone else do these things? I watch them closely and the most I have seen is some rapid blinking from the kid with jam-jar glasses on.
Head on desk, face in hands, this is my safe place. I can listen to teacher from here, well I say listen but I am often told I don’t listen correctly, maybe I need a hearing aid or something and then I can join the deaf kids in the special classroom, it always looks fun in there and they never seem to get into trouble and maybe my head and eye movements won’t be so bad or be noticed.
Miss Smart want us to read ‘Of mice and men’ and something about writing something in our exercise books and she mentioned margins.
Pulling the book under folded arms and making a gap to let just enough light in to read but not so much that people can see my face.
Staring at the pages the words double and separate, I can get the words really far apart and then let them come together again, if I keep doing this I wonder if I will go blind?, this would be another reason to be in the special class, blind and partially deaf that would get me in no problem and maybe I won’t do the head and eye thing.
I better try to read this book.

Chapter 1 ‘A few miles south of Soledad, the Salinas River drops in close to the hillside bank and runs deep and green. The water is warm too, for it has slipped twinkling over the yellow sands  in the sunlight before reaching the narrow pool’ Where the hell is Soledad? Who is Salina? 

After some time thinking about sand, rivers and repeating Soledad and Salina in my head I’m brought back to reality by the bell, time for break, another lesson survived.
A successful hour of moving words, reading a paragraph and contemplating hats and bindles. I Pick up my book throw it into the pile and head for the door, after all I was not told how much I had to read and I have actually read something, although I still don’t know what I was supposed to do in my exercise book.

The soggy teacher