TITLE: The Dyslexic Spell Reader
GENRE: YA Urban Fantasy
When Aubrey’s severe dyslexia turns out to be a trait of advanced spell readers, the only person who can help is her ex-best friend and current tormentor, Seth. Since the society of spell readers sees her as a threat and constructs “accidents” to end her life, Seth says he’ll keep her alive—but can she trust him?
They’re discussing my flaws. Again.
Usually math is the one place where I’m okay.
Or, at least, I thought it was. Now at this impromptu sister-teacher conference, I’m realizing that my capacity for failure is endless and that this classroom smells like stale dry erase markers, pencil shavings, and a fresh dose of disappointment.
I don’t understand why Nala is so obsessed with finding answers. It’s an impairment. A disability. A handicap. Something that transforms me from an average girl to a “slow learner.” I try so hard and never succeed. But I’ve memorized all the spelling and decoding rules, even if I can’t ever play by them.
There are six types of syllables.
1. Closed. Short vowel sound. Examples include hag, bitch, and many other derogatory terms, such as ass, that I’m internally chanting on a repeated loop as Mrs. Manilow politely tells us I’m an idiot. Nala acts like a bobblehead doll. It’s nothing we haven’t heard before.
“Do you think this is due to her dyslexia?” Nala asks Mrs. Manilow. Seriously? What isn’t?
2. Vowel-consonant-e. The “e” at the end turns bossy and forces the first vowel into submission, twisting its arm until it screams its name. Like in “grade,” “life,” or “hate.” My “wires” (“E”: “Say your name, letter ‘I,’ or I’ll end you!”) are crossed in my head and therefore I have a boatload of problems.
“She isn’t asking for help, but that could be due to her speech and language issues,” Mrs. Manilow says as if she’s explaining something delicate and profound.