"Can we talk?" Connor asked, indicating that he talks and I listen.

I nodded my head stiffly and followed Connor as he lead me into the school, past the office. Away from where everyone else was going, and into our little book area. I guess I should be glad there wasn't anyone else around, in case I started crying.

Oh fuck, what if I start crying? I don't wanna cry in front of people, much less Connor!

He sat down and I followed his action. We just sat there for a while before someone opened their mouths. The silence was thick, cloudy, and awkward. Neither of us were comfortable, obviously.

"Nico...." Connor started, biting his lip, "I'm going to sound like a total piece of shit, but I don't believe you're mute. I don't understand how someone could simply not be able to talk. It's like not being able to breath; some people have troubles but everyone can do it!"

I looked at my so-called friend with rage. I'm not like everyone, you git! Everyone else I know can talk and laugh and communicate normally. I can't fucking do that!

"I understand if you just don't want to talk, but being mute isn't... a real thing, right? It can't be...." His voice trailed off, and I flung my bookbag off my shoulders and rummaged around for a pen and paper, but there was none. I wanted to tell him. I wanted him to understand. I was mad, sure, but not mad enough to ditch him here and now!

I did my best to explain the story, the fact that it was a birth thing. That I wouldn't have been able to live eight months if the surgery didn't happen. Unfortunately, all I could use was hand motions and puffs of air.

"No, listen," Connor shushed my attempt to explain, clamping my hands together with his. "I understand if you don't want to talk, but it'll be hard on you. Especially since... well, I've made friends. A real rowdy bunch." He avoided eye contact and let go of my hands. They dropped to my sides. I stared at him in shock.

He's made friends. A rowdy bunch. People who talk. Wow, it's only the second day of this hell hole, too.

People like him, who won't understand. Who believe it's not real.

I nodded slowly, standing up as the first bell rang. It was time to head to class. Time to, hopefully, get away from Connor. I couldn't bare to look at him any longer.

Fuck, was I gonna cry?

"Well, time to find classes!" Connor chirped, suddenly all cheery again. Right, we still have no clue where our classes were... okay, maybe we found it yesterday and chose to pretend to be lost still. We just needed to remember now.

I pointed to the front office, causing Connor to change his course a little. Turns out our first class was the first door to the right of the office.

"Hey, get a seat next to me," Connor called as we walked away. He headed towards a row of desks in the back. The area where the goths, troublemakers, and popular kids sit. The area of the class where I didn't want anywhere near.

I didn't want to sit next to Connor, though. I'm already on the brink of tears from our little one-to-one we had earlier.

He's the only person who'll talk to me, the only person who knows I'm mute, or as he says "refusing to speak."

He's my only social handle on this class. Connor's the only thing stopping me from needing to talk to people I don't know....

Fine, I'll sit with you.

Peasant.