A boy tapped on the front desk of the office in a school, his blue eyes looking keenly at the older lady who sat behind the desk, looking distracted by whatever was on her computer screen.
She glanced up, giving the boy a questioning, yet tired, look. "Can I help you?" She asked.
The boy looked to her lips, watching each syllable she pronounced carefully. He nodded, but didn't say a thing.
"What do you need?" She tried again, and the boy merely watched her lips, seeing each syllable forming words.
He let the strap of his bag go, as he'd been playing with it nervously, and brought his hands up, moving them in distinct ways.
The lady blinked a few times.
He silently sighed and pulled out a small blue leather bound notebook, which he always kept with him and a pencil. I'm new, I need my schedule. He wrote down in his tiny neat handwriting.
"Oh!" She said suddenly, a knowing look quickly appearing on her face. "I was told you were coming."
The boy simply watched her carefully as she spoke, catching most of what she was saying. A paper was sat in front of him and he looked at it curiously, seeing his name and a list of classes.
"That's you, right?" She questioned.
The boy watched her lips closely, yet again. He nodded and grabbed the paper, bringing his right hand up to his lips and thanking her. She simply gave him a questioning look as he shoved his little notebook back into his pocket and left, shaking his head slightly. No one understood him. He made his way into the huge hallway, which was bustling with students, all focused on talking to friends, their phones, or trying to get to class. He looked at his schedule and looked to see that his first hour was in room one forty five. He looked around himself as he walked, trying to navigate, though it was difficult. He eventually gave up with a silent sigh and stood out of the way of everyone, trying not to get trampled as he looked at his schedule again.
He tapped his foot on the ground, hoping someone would notice him; but no one did. He let out a silent breath and walked up to a group of students. They all gave him a strange look. He held out his paper, pointing at the room number with one hand and moving the other precisely. They just stared at him like he was crazy. He tried again, this time giving them a questioning look.
"What is your problem?" One of them asked, giving him a strange look.
He shook his head, moving his hand dismissively. There was nothing wrong with him. He pointed at the room number again, hoping they'd understand.
"Do you need to know how to get there?" One asked, a girl who looked at him curiously.
He watched her lips closely, noticing not only the words she spoke, but how her lips looked soft. He nodded, blinking slightly, waiting for an answer.
"Go down this hall." She pointed, and he looked in that direction before looking back at her. "Then go left and it's the second door on the right."
He brought his right hand to his mouth and moved it away from himself. He just got weird looks from the group. He waved his dismissively, walking away from the group. He didn't feel like explaining, it just wasn't worth his time. He followed the directions he was given and found the classroom. He looked at his schedule and found his locker number, which he set off to find. It took a while, but he eventually found the locker, which had a few crude objects etched into it, which didn't surprise him in the slightest. He shook his head and messed with the lock; only taking a few tries to get it open. Once he did, he put his school supplies away before making his way back to the classroom he was supposed to be at.
