Voiceless Nobody

Chapter 3. My Greek God

Hercales POV:

As soon as the bell rang, Hercales jumped out of the desk, racing up to the teachers' desk, his heart beating faster than his feet could move. "Me synchoreíte chásete?" The words tumbling out his mouth. Where is he? That mysterious fair skinned boy...

The teacher turns around giving Hercales a blank stare. "Excuse me?"

Puzzled, Hercales looks at the teacher wondering what she doesn't get, then realizing it a couple seconds later, seeing he spoke in his native tongue, clears his throat and opens his mouth about to ask again but in English this time, when a different voice answers for him.

"He said " Mi scusi?", Si?"

Hercales not understanding anything this short, brown haired, little Italian said. But it seemed the teacher did.

"Ah yes, you're our new student, huh?"

"Naí." Hercales gave her a lazy half smile. "That I am."

"Where is your guide? I believe I assigned you one."

"Naí, that you did also. It was that small black-haired boy, Honda was it? "

At the sound of that name, the weird little Italian boy stares at Hercales as if Hercales all of a sudden grew a tail, and ears to go along with it. A cat's tail and ears Hercales hopes.

"Oh, I see." The teacher didn't seem to notice the little Italian boys' expression. Didn't anybody notice anything around here? This place is strange, and that boy seems to be in the middle of it... "Well until Mr. Honda returns, Mr. Vargas here will be your guide. "

At that the little Italians face, or Mr. Vargas's face changed, spreading into a wide smile. "Sí, it will be so much fun! My name is Feliciano!"

Well, until his fair skinned mystery boy came back to his side, he'd stick with this Feliciano.

Thanking the teacher, he turned to face the grinning happy Italian. " So, what's your next class, ummm..."

"Hercales."

"Harcles! What's your next class harcles?"

"Um... gym" Hercales, ignoring Felicianos weird pronunciation of his name, looks down at a schedule.

"Ooo, me too! Let's get a moving, sí?"

"Naí..." This Italian is the opposite of his mystery boy. He's open, never quiet, always talking. It makes Hercales want to take a nap out in the sun.

"OK, sí. Here we are!"

Hercales and Feliciano stood in the wide crowded hallway in front of two doors, one said boys while the other said girls. Before Hercales could even think against it, the question that's been jumping around in his head all morning since he saw him popped out.

"How's that boy doing?" At Felicianos questioned look, Hercules asked another question. "Where's the nurses office?" At that the little Italian turned as white as snow.

"Oh... I'm sure... he's doing all fine, sí." A hesitation. It seems everyone here, whenever they refer to that boy, they always hesitate before speaking about him... as if he is nothing.

Knowing that, Hercales felt something... something like... Hercales didn't know how to even subscribe it, it's a feeling he's never felt before, the hot lava like feeling in the pit of his stomach, the ringing of loud noisy alarm clocks going off in his head. All's Hercales knows is that when it comes to this boy, he's feeling a lot of feelings he's never felt before. What are these feelings? Another question. What gives all these people the right to treat his mystery boy this way. And for the bigger question. What happened for him to stop speaking and to be treated this way? With a cold shoulder.