Chapter One: The new Kid and black outs

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      When I was kid, I thought I was strong. I thought that no one could stop me from being me. Of course, that all changed when I grew up. Most importantly, when my “friends” grew up. Third grade was the first year I was called fat. No one wanted to play with the fat kid. By the time I was in middle school, I was completely split off from the rest of my peers. While everyone went to hip hop, pop, and what's in, I turned to rock. I listen to all types of bands, but that just gave them another reason to pick on me. What did I ever do to them? Once upon a fucking time we were all friends. What the hell happened?

I kept on going down the hall of this stupid school. Glares here, a few choice words tossed at me, nothing new. I walked into my first class, English IV and sit at my usual desk in the back. You see the problem with going to a public school is that no one bothers to pay attention in class. It’s all smart remarks to the teacher but even they don’t give a shit. They just give us a piece of paper and sit back while they earn their money. 

I take out my ipod and blast The Smiths in my ears, fangirling at Morrissey's voice. I stare down at my work waiting for this wretched class to end when I hear the classroom door open. I look up and see a guy standing at the door. He was short with shaggy black hair, a nose and lip ring, what look to be double zero gauges, and had intricate tattoos running up his left arm. He was wearing a basic black t-shirt with the Misfits logo across it, scuffed black converse, and extremely tight skinny jeans. He was beautiful.

The teacher finally noticed the strangers presence and stood up, walking over. The boy looked down at his shoes, suddenly fascinated by them. 

“May I help you?” The teacher Mr. Acevedo says. The boy didn’t look up, almost as if he didn’t hear the teacher until he finally waved his hand in front of the boy. The boy jumped, and the teacher had finally grabbed his attention. The boy looks questioningly at the teacher, unsure of what the teacher said. Mr. Acevedo repeats himself, asking why the boy was here. The boy starts moving his hands in gestures to try and tell the teacher why he was here. Sign language I realize. I know sign language because Mikey, my little brother, is mute, and I had to learn in order to talk to him. I suddenly realized the boy was deaf.

I stand up, earning glares from my classmates, and walk to the front of the room. I start talking to the boy, signing back and forth between us. The teacher looks at us as though we were insane.

“What do you think you’re doing Way?” He asks rudely.

“Talking to the new kid, Frank Iero. He says that the battery in his hearing aid died, so he can’t hear you right now until he replaces them. He’s here because this is where his schedule said to go. I already looked at his schedule, and it’s the same as mine.” I answer back. I hold back a snarky comment about Mr. Acevedo and show Frank to the seat next me since it’s the only available seat left.

Frank sits quietly and takes out a notebook (with a bunch of Misfit stickers on it might I add) and looks up at Mr. Acevedo, who starts droning on about The Epic of Gilgamesh and how he represents the tragic hero of the story. I roll my eyes and keep on blasting my music. I see a shadow waving next to me and look over at Frank who is waving his hand. I give him a questioning look.

What the hell is the teacher talking about?” He signs. I smirk as he looks back up at the teacher and lets out a frustrated sigh. Only, it was loud. Everyone turns to look at us, and Mr. Acevedo stops his lecture.

“Is there something wrong Way?” He ask me. 

“Uh, well no its just - uh- Frank here doesn’t know what he is doing so, uh, um is it okay if I get your uh lesson plan for today and show it to him separately and uh, so he will understand. So, uh, yeah.” I hear a few of the jocks smirk and giggle at my horrible speaking skills, but I ignore them. That is until Bryan speaks up.

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