Be the new kid
He sat there quietly, a bounce to his heel as he stared down at the piece of paper on the desk, pencil between his fingers. Thinking always came easy to him since he didn't have to hear anything else but his own thoughts, voiceless words that swam throughout his mind; but for some reason, he was having a case of thinkers' block.
Write down ten facts about yourself.
Er.
It was nice that his cousin Jane was giving him space instead of hovering over the back of his neck every single moment, but this still didn't give him a lot of help. What could he write down?
John Egbert glanced up, eyeing the teacher. She seemed nice enough, understanding to his "condition", and he appreciated the fact that she was so comfortable having Jane sit in his class. John hoped that would be the same for his other classes, though a part of him seriously doubted it.
He had drawn a squiggly line as his train of thought ran off its tracks, and he quickly erased the mark. He didn't want to seem like a cocky know-it-all that refused to do such a simple assignment! But...
John frowned down at the paper, wanting to write "fuck you" and having to keep back an immature giggle at the imagery of Jane's reaction. She would probably drag him out of class by his ear. Again.
With a quiet sigh, which he felt exit his lungs and it felt nice, to feel something come from his mouth that he couldn't hear-he settled for writing down "1. My name is John."
Nine more to go!
He flexed his fingers, more than distracted by the faces his classmates were making while they concentrated, or seemed to write a whole goddamn novel on their lined paper. Jesus, no one wanted to hear an autobiography. John rolled his eyes, turning back to his desk and catching his teacher's eye. She smiled and seemed hesitant in her stance, as though she was considering approaching him and seeing if he needed help. He knew that she must have felt uncomfortable because she didn't use sign language.
If only he could walk around with a sign round his neck that said "I CAN READ LIPS!"
He would.
Ooh! A spark of inspiration hit him and he was writing the short sentence like his pen was on fire. "2. I can read lips pretty well."
Yesss. Now just eight more.
John felt some shift in the air from behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder only to see Jane's bright blue eyes in his own vision. She raised an eyebrow at him, signing very quickly and he hardly had to even look to know what she was asking.
What's wrong?
He waved his hand, giving her a small grin. Nothing!
Jane Crocker gave a roll of her eyes that John knew he'd picked up from her as children, and he slid down in his chair, wishing his spine wasn't so prominent against the back of the stupid thing.
When his teacher held up the five fingers, he began to panic internally. Shit! Already?! Why was this so haaaaard?
Maybe because it was his first day in a new school? A school full of kids that talked and laughed and flipped each other off in the hallways, with teachers that were either nervous as hell or strict as a drill sergeant, sometimes keeping in-between. John wasn't used to this atmosphere, since he had been homeschooled pretty much all of his life, taught by his intelligent and motherly cousin, as well as sometimes quizzed by his father. When he wasn't away on business.
John wished all the facts buzzing around in his brain weren't related to his lack of working ears, the fact that he didn't talk because he knew he would sound like some kind of retarded fool if he even trieda simple "hello". He tapped his pen impatiently, wanting to write down a bunch of random things that hardly mattered to him, and yet they seemed just so idiotic that he didn't want to get called on it.
3. I like Gushers.
That's a start.
4. My dad likes to wear fedoras.
We're getting there.
His tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek, and he squinted at the whiteboard ahead and thought long and hard - heheh, long and hard.
5. I have a peni-
The harsh pinch to his cheek made him erase that one immediately. God damn, Jane! He wasn't actually going to keepthat one!
6. My favorite movie is NOT Con Air.
Clever boy. He gave a small smirk down at his own words, as if he were reading a witty novel. He could be so funny sometimes. He'd grown out of that movie what, a year or two ago? The realization had hit him like a tidal wave as he was sitting on his off-white couch one afternoon, watching the very movie. He wasn't even sure how it had come to be one of his favorite movies for the first sixteen years of his life.
At least now he could look back and laugh at his embarrassing younger self. Tsk, tsk.
7. I'm good at pulling pranks on other people.
That was true enough. He pulled pranks on Janey all the time! Though she didn't appreciate them. He didn't have any friends, so it wasn't like he had a peer around that could agree with his sense of humor; that part always sucked. When he was the only one laughing like a dysfunctional donkey and he couldn't even hear Jane yelling at him because she's forgot to sign it all out or she was just so pushed off the edge that she didn't bother signing what she was practically spitting in his face.
It was a miracle John had even learned to read lips.
8. I don't have any friends.
This one he hoped didn't read "sob-story", because even though he got lonely a lot, it wasn't like he neededa whole cult of people by his side. Even just one person, besides his cousin, would be cool to have around.
Actually...
9. Actually, I have three friends that I met online.
John felt his lips form a fond smile. What was he thinking? He had friends. They just didn't live anywhere close to him. But they bonded over stupid things and laughed at each other's jokes and even though he couldn't hear them in person-not that he would be able to if they were right in front of him-they were just as important as anyone he could meet face-to-face. They were like his family. Dave, Jade, and Rose.
He felt his heart do that weird thing where it was entirely full of warmth, and seemed to do the "grew three sizes that day" thing from How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Aha. Jim Carey was funny as hell.
That was when Jane poked him on the shoulder and his eyes shot up, because the teacher was walking back and forth at the front of the room, talking with gestures that he knew weren't even close to being sign-language - just some kind of quirk some people had. He clicked his tongue, then immediately stopped because it might have been the loudest noise ever and John wouldn't have known.
He turned around to face Jane again, giving her the look. What's she saying?
You're getting with a partner and sharing your ten facts with them. She's pairing you up, though. No getting to pick.Jane shared what seemed to be a smug smile, and sat back in her own chair.
John was puzzled, but decided better than to ask what the hell she was so smug about and waited for the teacher to approach and awkwardly point him towards some kid that he didn't know, didn't want to know, wanted to shove the paper in their face and watch him read it and that look of awe/guilty realization wash over his face when he knew-
10. I don't really like school.
Be the tired other kid
Karkat Vantas couldn't keep his head off the desk, and he knew that any second Ms. What's-Her-Yap would come over and tell him he was being rude, needed to pay attention, do the assignment, blahblahblah.
Seriously. It's not like she asked why he was so damn exhausted. He hadn't gotten any sleep last night because of his idiotic father and his constant yelling, at nothing that even mattered or existed. The bottle was always in his hand and a cigarette rested on his lip; Karkat doubted he even knew his son was living in the same house at all.
He expected that after school he'd get home to see his dear daddy laying in the armchair, asleep as fuck and snoring as loud as any kind of monster you could begin to imagine. He'd heard it all as a kid. Bigfoot? Check. Nessie? Heard it.
His cloudy thoughts were interrupted when, sure enough, the teacher came over and called his name in an impatient tone of voice. "Mister Vantas! I'm sure you're aware that class is still in session. This is your first day, you realize."
Karkat growled under his breath and lifted his eyes to her, deep-brown and almost murderous. The rest of the students were staring, giggling, texting behind the teacher's gullible back; the usual. He had to fight back the intense urge to roll his eyes and respond to her, sitting up as straight as he could.
"Sorry," he grumbled, pale hands in the deep pockets of his hoodie. Karkat even made the extra effort to add, "Won't happen again."
Oops. Another promise he would break.
Ms. Whatever-the-fuck sighed, wiping off his blouse like there was something there she wasn't able to clean off. Did she have issues or what? "As I was saying, you will be partnered up with John. He's sitting over there," she said with a bit of nip to her voice, and pointed across the room.
Karkat glanced over, his disinterest visible. "Alright then."
She allowed the class to move desks, meeting up with their partner in order to share their ten facts- Oh, yeah. Karkat looked down at his blank sheet of paper, slightly amused by the drool stain in the corner. Of course he hadn't done it. What the fuck did she expect?
He made his way around desks and chairs and backpacks that were always in the middle of the aisles, goddamn it, taking the desk to the right of this John kid, and plopping his ass right down.
Karkat noticed the girl sitting behind his partner, how her eyes were narrowed in a way that he was used to seeing from adults that were ever in his vicinity. He snorted, hardly giving a fuck that she seemed offended.
The silence was a bit awkward, he had to admit. Right as he was about to speak up, the girl stood, touching the other kid on the shoulder and walking out of the class. He had only nodded, like they shared some secret language. What the fuck?
"Hey," Karkat managed, irritated that a small bundle of nerves seemed to be getting the best of him. John looked like a normal, pretty nice guy, instead of instantly judging him like every other human on the planet earth - he wasn't exactly used to such treatment. Only natural that he'd be a little awkward.
John didn't reply, just gave his paper one last look before turning to see Karkat; what was weird was that his face lit up, blue eyes seeming to sparkle when really there was nothing magical about them at all. Karkat was a bit annoyed. Okay, so hehad to speak? What a dick.
"So, let's just get this over with," he muttered, scratching an itch at the back of his neck and avoiding the teacher's eyes. John's eyebrows knit together in what looked to be confusion, and he saw the boy's hands raise from his lap just an inch, before they dropped back down.
Uh.
"Are you gonna make me do all the damn talking?" he asked, suddenly feeling a burning anger in his belly that he knew would only keep growing, and growing until he ended up punching the kid.
John blinked, his mouth making an "o", and he seemed to be studying Karkat for a long moment before the smile was back on his face, warm and friendly. It made Karkat's heart clench.
Was he playing around or what? Because Karkat was sure as hell not amused.
He growled, hardly flinching when the teacher's piercing, punishing voice rang from across the room; "Mister Vantas, if you haven't written anything down, I suggest you do it now, otherwise you'll only waste my time, and John's."
"I'll waste your fucking time, you bitch," Karkat muttered, not even bothering to hide it with a subtle cough or by covering his mouth with a sleeve.
Meanwhile, this bucktoothed idiot was watching him, blue eyes wide behind his glasses. What was his deal? Karkat could almost feelthe happy and it was like poison; they were obviously complete opposites, of course Ms. Ruin-your-life had to pair them up. Jesus Christ.
"What?" Karkat's hands formed a pair of fists, and John just kept staring like he was so fucking interested and it pissed him off even more. "Do I look weird to you? Am I the ugliest piece of shit you've ever seen?"
John's goofy grin wasn't heart-lifting in the least. But it was then that the kid actually decided to be productive and turn his paper over, grabbing a pen and writing something before lifting it up to show Karkat.
I can't catch what you're saying. You must mumble a lot.
...Say what?
"Wait, why did you even-"
John nodded, in some understanding way that made Karkat feel as though he'd been through this many many times before. The boy wrote down something else and handed Karkat the paper, watching him and bobbing his head slightly; he appeared to be listening to a song in his head.
Karkat raised a slim brow, directing his eyes down to the paper and examining the goofy handwriting-just about as goofy as its writer.
I'm deaf.
Like that wasn't the most obvious thing to end a first chapter on. Haha.
I hope you all enjoy, because there will be more chapters coming! I'm planning this as I go and I dunno how my motivation will last, but I'm pushing through because I love JohnKat. c:
Thanks for reading~