Dustin squeezed his shoulder again. “Not to sound stupid, but what are social skills classes?”
“They’re for kids that struggle with social situations, or understanding social cues.”
“Like they don’t ‘read the room’?”
“That’s a good way to say it. Some of them don’t recognize sarcasm. They may not understand someone is making fun of them, but most of them get that. For instance, you and I can tell when someone is frowning at us after we say something, which tells us they didn’t like what was said. But some kids don’t even recognize they’re being frowned at, or if they do, they don’t know why. But with Da—I mean, with this girl—she just seems to have a lot of anxiety and can’t speak around the other kids. She needs a friend. She’s wicked brilliant, but awkward. Seriously, straight As and college-level writing.”
“We’re all kind of awkward in high school, though. I certainly was.”
“Yes, you recently told me you were shy, which surprised me.”