Dear Little Deaf Boy

Chapter 3- Silent Library

Chapter 3- Silent Library

The whole class had been herded into the library after one of the lab rats in biology made a break for it. I don't actually think it was resurrected more like it was on the edge of death and then staged its grand escape. Now here we all sit, surrounded by dusty books, doing absolutely nothing but gossiping. Which, to be fair, I don't consider "nothing." Actually, now that I think about it, it's definitely not nothing.

"So you're telling me your dad wants the deaf boy to tutor you?" Bee leaned against the shelf, smirking.

I scoffed. "Wow. Is this some kind of new deaf epidemic? Because I literally just said that. Can people around here hear anymore?"

Bee rolled her eyes and went back to grazing the spines of the bookshelf like they owed her something.

"He is pretty cute," Nani said, checking her reflection in her compact.

Bee slid a book halfway out, not even looking at us. "Puppies are cute. Jasper? The sounds I'd make for that boy..." She said it coolly, like she was commenting on the weather. "Shame he can't hear them."

She wasn't wrong. Jasper was handsome. Girls just didn't bother with him because he couldn't hear.

I guess they thought it was too much work, trying with someone who couldn't talk back. Reasonable, maybe. I'd thought the same. Still, watching him alone at a table, nose deep in a book with his sketchbook open, brows furrowed, pen carving dark lines into the page—I couldn't look away. People always notice the loners, but no one talks to them. Hypocritical, since I never have either.

Bee kept grazing the shelves while Nani fussed with her makeup. I laughed when she scrubbed red lipstick off her pearly teeth. Then her blue eyes flicked from her hand mirror to something past me.

"You lose points for being cute and creepy. He should work on his staring problem," Nani muttered.

I didn't turn. "Can you blame him? Who wouldn't watch you brush your teeth in a library?"

"You're right," she said, snapping her mirror shut. "That is a show. I'm sure people would watch me do much less. But I'm not the one he's looking at."

"Who—" Before I could turn, Nani grabbed my face with her witch-claw nails.

"Don't look! That's awkward. Then he'll know we're talking about him."

"Fine, just let go, you're stabbing me," I complained.

Nani's sharp, manicured fingers finally released me. She held them up again like she was admiring art. "My nails are so cute, right, Bee?"

Bee shrugged, deadpan. "Sure. Everyone loves the Wicked Witch of the West."

"I was going for more Galinda," Nani said casually, then sighed. "You know what, enough about me and my perfect nails. We know they're great. Let's talk about Ms. Kinsley for once and her new and improved study sessions."

"Uh, I don't have study sessions," I replied flatly.

Bee smiled and gave my arm a light, playful punch. "That's why they're improved."

"OMG, he's staring again," Nani said, tapping my arm frantically. "That's so cute. I wish I had a personal stalker. I mean, my boyfriend might not love it, but he'll live."

"Nani, focus," I muttered. "Just check if he's still staring."

"His ears must be ringing," Bee chimed in.

"Funny, Bee," I replied flatly. But she was already back to pretending she cared about the bookshelves.

Nani waved it off. "Relax. He looked away."

Relief hit me for a second—until someone across the room called out:

"Jasper!"

A group of guys laughed, one shouting his name even though he couldn't hear. Finn Ranger pushed up from his seat.

He walked to Jasper's table, grabbed a sketchbook, and slammed the rest of his stuff to the floor. Laughter swelled around the room. Jasper froze, jaw tight, then quietly bent to gather his things.

I felt the heat of anger rise against me. Maybe I should've stayed out of it—but I couldn't. My pink stilettos were already biting into the carpet as I crossed the room.

"Well, well, Pines," Finn smirked. "Funny seeing you here."

"We're in the same class, idiot."

"I'm just surprised to see you in a library."

His pack of goons barked. I tilted my head. "I'm surprised you're not out chasing balls again."

A ripple of laughter. He bristled.

"Oh, shut up before I make you fetch better jokes," I added, breezy.

"How can I help you, Pines?" he asked, still smiling like the world owed him something.

"I always knew you were the help, Finn." I let the sweetness cut. "For starters, leave Jasper alone."

He scoffed. "Leave him alone? How am I messing with a guy if he can't even hear us?"

"Exactly. Which makes you even more of a pussy."

As if we were in a sitcom, the class supplied a chorus of oohs and ahhs. Finn's grin started to crack.

"This is almost romantic, Pines. You playing keeper now?"

"I'm not playing anything, Finn. Just give him back his stuff. Alright?"

"Or what?"

I shrugged—lazy, bored, boy-bye energy. "Or I'll come up with something. It isn't hard for me to make things happen, you know." I let my eyes slide past him. "Isn't that right, Tyler?"

My gaze landed on Tyler, the random guy with the fresh, too-fresh, shave. He went very still.

Truth is, last week he spit gum on the sidewalk. Nothing to do with me... until I stepped in it and it murdered my red bottoms. So I paid his barber to ruin his hairline at his next appointment. Money talks. Hairlines listen.

"Not that I'm confessing," I added instantly, turning back to Finn, "but when it comes to you? It won't be hard to spill a few secrets."

"You wouldn't," he said, voice tight.

"Try me, darling."

His nostrils flared; he exhaled hard then, in defeat, hurled the sketchbook. It thumped against my chest. I caught it without blinking and smiled up at him.

"Who's a good boy?"

His fists balled, but Mrs. Bloom arrived on cue, sweeping in with a teacher's radar already locked on us.

"What seems to be the problem, Ms. Pines?"

"Oh, nothing," I said sweetly, tucking the sketchbook to my side. "We're just enjoying all these books. Finn made a great suggestion."

Her brow arched. "Is that true, Finn?"

"Yeah," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Good. Everyone sit. Class is almost over."

With Mrs. Bloom's command, we scattered like the lab rats from biology desperate to escape but still trapped in the same cage. Except Finn and I seemed in no rush. I gave him one last glare before turning away, heels biting the carpet. He returned it, just as sharp.

Sliding back into my seat, I noticed Jasper's chair was still empty. No books, no sketches, not even the notebook Finn had tossed at me. He was gone.

I told myself I didn't care. But somehow, I still blamed Finn.