Nathanael never interacted with any of the students at Collège Françoise Dupont, nor did he ever talk to them. I fact, he never talked at all. Not that he couldn't or was unable to, but when he spoke, the students would make fun of the way he sounded, especially Cloe, the school's spoilt rich girl. He never fitted in with them and never will.

When he wasn't paying attention in class, Nathan would draw in his sketchbook. In his drawings, he was the hero everyone respected and nobody made fun of. However, his fantasies often got interrupted by reality.

The science teacher, Ms. Mendeleiv, slammed her hand on Nathan's sketchbook, startling him.

"Nathanael, what are you drawing?!"

Nathan looked up. He tried to pay attention and read Ms. Mendeleiev's lips, but her stern, cold face intimidated him and make it hard for him to look up.

"Honestly, I would expect a Deaf student to pay more attention in class rather than doodling. This is clearly why you're failing science."

"I'm sorry." signed Nathan.

"You know I don't speak hand gesture! Now you march over to the principal's office and show him that chicken scratch of yours!"

Nathan got up, clutching his sketchbook in embarrassment, but he wasn't looking where he was going, so he tripped over backpack and Cloe grabbed his

"Ooh! Look, Sabrina! Nathan's comic has speech bubbles in them and he's speaking. As if ANYONE would want to hear that walrus belching voice of his."

Cloe then started making mock signs and started trying to speak in an exagerated accent.

"I'M MAY-FEN! I CAN'T HE-UW CUTH I'M DEEF AND I'M A WOO-ZOW WIFF NO FWIENDS!"

"Good one, Cloe." Sabrina laughed.

Nathanael grabbed the sketchbook from Cloe's hand and ran out the door. He didn't look back; he knew deep down that all the other students were laughing. Tears started to well up. Such a thing happened too often when he went to school and he was sick of it.

Nathanael gasped, feeling someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned around, seeing Marinette, the sweet, but clumsy girl from most of his classes.

"Hi Nathan." she spoke. "I'm sorry about the way Cloe made fun of you. I know what it's like."

Marinette's bluebell eyes shifted downward. It looked like she was mumbling something, but Nathan couldn't make out what she was saying. Marinette then noticed Nathan's head shifting.

"Oh!" she blushed, "Forgive me; I forgot you needed to read lips to know what I'm saying."

Marinette then reached into her backpack.

"Here." she said pulling out a sketchbook, "I do a little drawing myself. I'm not as good as you, though."

Nathanael flipped through the book. He was amazed. Each page was filled with colorful drawing of dresses and other clothing that could easily be seen on the runway of an haute couture fashion show. Marinette was clearly a gifted spirit.

"Well, I better head back to class. I don't want the BOTH of us getting sent to the principal's office."

As Marinette started to head back, Nathanael felt something he had never felt before. He couldn't explain what it was, but Marinette's sweet cherry blossom smile and warm kindness was something he never saw in anyone else. He was shaking. He wanted her to stay for just a bit longer.

Suddenly, his lips started to move and his voice cracked.

"M...Ma...MA-RI-NETTE!"

Marinette stopped. She looked over at Nathanael with a bit of confusion. Then, Nathanael signed and spoke.

"Thank you."

It was the first time Marinette had ever heard Nathanael's voice. It sounded forced, breathy, and a bit nasally, but his voice had a soft, gentle quality to it.

Marinette smiled and signed back.

"You're welcome."

As Marinette left, Nathanael smiled; the first smile he felt in a long time.