Augustus Dies

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C O N N O R
I stand in front of the school, dreading the day ahead of me. My mom has dropped me off 20 minutes early, needing to be on time for an interview. I go over my choices for where to go. I could go to class, but I doubt our teacher is even in yet. I can go to the library, I haven't been there in a while.

I make my way to the back of the school, entering warily. I love the smell of this place, though no one seems to come here. I used to every day before I got caught up with all my school work and trying to hold myself together. It bugs me that I can't hear the sound of the bell above my head. I look around like I often do to make sure no one's talking to me. Almost everybody knows that I'm deaf, but you never know.

After spending about 15 minutes in the library reading a bunch of different titles and picking out a few I walk to my first class. I'm not surprised to see Troye occupying my seat again. I sit next to him, looking at the board nervously. I wonder if the teacher will put the lesson on the board today. I can feel Troye move next to me but I fight the urge to look at him. About 5 minutes later I'm still looking at the board waiting for any type of instruction, when I feel a nudge. I turn and look at the boy next to me, shocked that he even acknowledged me.

He says something but he speaks too fast, and even as I'm starting at his lips I don't understand. When I look back up to his eyes, they're blown wide. I wonder what's wrong. He says something else that I don't catch. I should probably tell him I can't hear a thing he's saying.

But I kind of don't want to. It's nice to be treated normally, and not like a special kid. I mean, my brain still works guys! I hesitantly point to my ears, and he gives me a confused glare, then says something else, but I only catch the word 'fuck'. I point again and turn to him, our knees touching. He still doesn't get it.

This is impossible. At least he's pretty. He'll go far with that at least, if he turns out to be extremely dumb. But I doubt it. I lower my head, pouting and trying to think of a way to let him know that I can't hear a thing he says. I could tell him, but I haven't spoken since the accident. What a weird feeling, not being able to hear yourself talk. What if I yell in the middle of class? Is anyone else even talking? Then it hits me. I'm so stupid sometimes. I grab his paper and write the fateful words. I'm deaf. His eyes widen and return to my face.

He doesn't speak anymore, only stares at me. It begins to get uncomfortable at one point, making me turn back to my desk and return my gaze to the board. This teacher should know he has a deaf kid in his class, shouldn't he? If I fail I'm going to cry. It's his fault, although I should go up and try and ask him what we're doing. As I make a move to go, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

What does he want? I look back at him, taking in his sad expression. Is he going to start giving me a pity pep talk? Because I've had enough of those to last a lifetime. He removes his hand and just smiles, pointing to his work. He's taking notes.

We're taking notes! It feels good to know what's going on for once. I give him a grateful look and sign a thank you to him. He only looks confused. Well, that answers my sign language question. I just wave it off, coping down his notes.

The rest of the day is uneventful, hanging out with my normal group of friends, looking over my shoulder at all times. The usual. When I finally make it back home, I'm surprised to see an unfamiliar black car in the driveway.

I walk inside, setting my bag on the hook right inside the door. It smells of lemon and sugar, the usual smell our house gets when we have guests over. I reach the kitchen to see my mom in a sun dress, making lemonade. She looks up and smiles.

'Hey honey.' She signs.

'Hey mom. What's up?'

'Making snacks for the guests.' I give her a look, waiting for her to elaborate. 'A nice family who just moved in down the street, they have three kids that go to your school'

I nod, wondering if I know one of them. She points to the living room, and I start towards it. I push my hands into the pockets of my black skinny jeans. It's kind of hard to greet guests when you're deaf, especially ones who don't know you're deaf. When I enter the room I'm greeted by a familiar face. The girl from the bus! She looks up at me and smiles sweetly. Slowly she speaks 'hey again' I smile back and extend a hand to her. She shakes it.

Then I look to the man and woman sitting next to her, doing the same. They seem nice enough. The lady startles me by signing to me smoothly.

'Hi Connor, I'm Laurelle, this is Shawn.' She points to the man next to her. I nod.

'Nice to meet you'

'I also have three sons. Only one could make it today' again, I nod.

It feels like I'm getting ready for a quiz on her family, she's so formal and informative. I'm just about to sign back something funny and witty, when my attention is drawn somewhere else.

What the hell is he doing here?

I watch as Troye walks into the living room, head down. What's going on? Don't tell me he's our guest! Not that I have a problem with him, I just don't find him someone I picture myself hanging around. And now he's standing in my living room. He looks up at his mother before his eyes find me. They widen considerably, and he stumbles back a bit. Nope, he wasn't expecting it either. He looks back to his mother, before doing what I think is a groan.

Returning his eyes to me he gives me a sarcastic wave and a forced smile. I roll my eyes at him, giving Sage and her parents a smile before turning to the stairs. Looks like I'm hiding in my room for the day. What's his problem? I didn't force him over, or force him to awkwardly sit in my seat every day! Who does he think he is?

His whole attitude is frustrating. Does he like me? Or does he think my existence is an inconvenience? I mean, we've only been around each other twice and we've already formed some kind of silent irritation for the other. I pull at my hair, sitting on the edge of my bed. Why am I being so hard on myself? I don't even know anything about him. I feel my phone vibrate in my jeans and I take it out, reading my moms text.

Sending Troye up to your room. His mom wants him to apologize.

I type back an okay, before picking up a few stray T-shirts. Then I grab my Mac Book and sit against my head board logging into Tumblr. It's about 2 minutes later when I see my door open out of the corner of my eye, but I don't look up from my Laptop.

I feel my bed dip, only looking up when I feel a nudge on my white converse. He mouths a sorry. I just stare at him, taking in his features. He truly is beautiful, and I'm slightly jealous. How can someone so gorgeous, be so rude? I don't get why he can't just be considerate of other people. I mean for god's sake, he can hear. Okay, I guess that's a little unfair. I hardly know him and yet I'm sitting here judging him. I shrug. After a few moments of silence, he hands over his phone, a new contact already open. I smile sheepishly as I type in my number, handing his phone back.

He then stands and casts me a smile, that I'm sure is rare. Once he's gone, I sigh, suddenly feeling less intimidated. Cause oh lord did he put me on edge. And not in a good way either. He's the type of person I like to avoid. The type of guy my parents warn me about. I watch as my phone screen lights up.

Augustus dies

My eyes shoot to the book on my night stand, groaning I throw the book across my room. Leave it to Troye to ruin the ending.

That butt.
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A/N
Haaallllooooo! It's marky butt butt on the track! Just kidding! Haha.

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