The usual disclaimer:

I am not blind, mute, nor do I have ADHD (although I know people who do)

I am bisexual, not asexual, and because of all this, I'm aiming to do my best to write correctly, and I am doing research to help, and not to offend anyone. If I've written anything that's incorrect or offensive please tell me so that I can fix it.

I really hope you enjoy the story, I'm really proud of it.

There are days where Phil wants to scream, to yell with rage, to cry, to sob. There are also times where he wants to laugh and squeal and shout with joy. But unfortunately, that's simply not a possibility.

Because Phil, is mute.

It's the way he's always been, his first word never came, so he doesn't know any differently. The doctors assured his parents that it's not a problem, he's not unhealthy or in danger, he just won't ever speak. Phil thinks it's something to do with undeveloped vocal chords or something, but he's not completely certain, as the medical mumble jumbo the doctors' spoke went in one ear and straight out the other.

When he was really young, before the days of popularity and teasing and who-likes-who being important, it didn't matter that he didn't speak. All of the other kids just assumed that he was just really shy and quiet, but it didn't stop them from playing with him.

High school was an inevitable obstacle, and one Phil was less than eager to even attempt to overcome. He wasn't a fool. Primary school had been seven years of kids who thought his 'muteness' was just one of his weird propensities. They'd accepted it as normal and nothing more had ever been said.

But high school meant new kids, strangers, who didn't know, didn't understand, and likely didn't want to.

The first three months were torture. His classmates teased him about his muteness, and although they weren't always physically abusive, the mental cruelty was damaging enough.

He'd never hated himself for being mute before, but he was quickly beginning to.

But then, an angel, or some other celestial entity smiled down on him, because one day he ran – literally – into a boy with straight brown hair and hipster-y glasses.

The boy's name was Chris, and he had been on his way to the office for his daily medication – mild ADHD.

Phil had waved his hands in an ill attempt to apologise without the words he was unable to conjure. Chris had been confused at first, but when Phil explained his…situation in excruciatingly neat handwriting on a torn piece of notepad paper – he always kept some folded in his pocket just in case – he was all prize-winning smiles and open hands.

Their friendship blossomed, and the rest is history.

"You're being ridiculous."

Phil grins as he observes his best friends' amusing couples' banter.

"I am not!" Chris protests.

Phil's pretty certain that PJ's staring at Chris. He's not sure how, considering it's pretty much impossible, but he thinks PJ's found a way.

"I honestly believe that having a seeing-eye dog is a little too extravagant at the moment, not to mention ludicrous. I'm barely seventeen, Chris. Besides, you're way too clumsy for me to have a bouncing animal around."

PJ grins, and Phil thinks the connection between the two is stranger than he had previously thought. Chris' low scoff is scarcely an indication of his indignation.

"Phil. Surely you're on my side?" Chris pleads.

Phil shakes his head, and knocks once on the table for PJ's benefit, their mutually agreed signal for 'no'.

"Blasphemy!" Chris shouts.

"Well, actually –"

"Treason, then."

Phil shakes his head softly – but if he's being completely honest, he finds it more endearing than anything.

PJ runs his hand up Chris' arm and taps his shoulder.

"Come here," He says, and Chris turns his head.

PJ cups Chris' cheek and they share a soft, short and sweet kiss.

Phil scribbles a sentence onto a scrap of paper.

" 'Your PDA makes me wish I was blind'. Gee, thanks, Phil. Tell us what you really think." Chris scoffs.

He laughs though, as does PJ, and although Phil's giggling internally, he wishes he could make actual sounds.

Phil has to admit that all three of them are very lucky, considering they only have two classes separate.

It could be worse.

It's just that, sometimes…sometimes, when Phil's hiding out in the back corner of a classroom, he has mental flashbacks of bad times, and it induces slight anxiety. He imagines that people are whispering about him, that when they glance over they're looking at him, that they're talking about him…and it makes concentrating a little hard,

It's probably a causal effect of his muteness, but Phil's a fairly shy, reserved person. And he always worries too much about if people are talking about him, because he doesn't know what they're saying if they are. Which makes it pretty hard to make friends – amongst other contributors.

Phil regrets sitting in the back, at a table with a empty seat beside him – the only empty seat in the whole room – when his Psychology teacher announces the arrival of a new student.

The fact that the new student is really cute, and Phil's only recently accepted the existence of his bisexuality, doesn't really help matters much.

"This is Dan, and he'll be joining our class this semester, so don't be jerks," The teacher says.

There's a chorus of laughter that spreads around the room.

"You can sit next to…Phil."

There's a few muffled sniggers as the teacher looks over at Phil, but he doesn't make any visible gesture to indicate he's heard anything.

He's too busy having an internal breakdown, because this new kid – Dan – doesn't know about his, condition, and he'll have to go through the same painful attempt to explain his situation, which will just result in an awkward, tense atmosphere and another person who thinks he's a freak.

Joy.

Dan smiles, and Phil tries, he attempts to return it, weakly, but he tries.

"Hi," Dan says, and Phil's hopes that Dan would just ignore him, like pretty much everyone else, escape out the window.

Phil waves, and although Dan's eyebrows narrow, he keeps quiet.

The lesson passes with no fuss, and when the bell goes Phil's grateful - he can finally escape.

No chance.

"Hey, so I know I'm new and everything, but I was wondering if, maybe, I could hang out with you? I don't know anybody, that's all."

Phil feels immensely horrible, and he tries to convey everything he wants to say through his expression - his hands are too busy holding his stuff - but he's not quite sure how to.

"Uh, hello? Can you hear me, or are you just being a jerk."

Dan's getting agitated, Phil can tell, and he hates it, he hates when anyone's angry or upset - but he can't do anything...can't say anything.

"Wow, I know I'm new and everything, but you don't have to be such an asshole."

Dan's full blown angry now, and Phil hurries to think of something to do as Dan turns to walk off - but somebody else has already come up with the perfect idea.

"Oh, mate, it's not what you think. The freak's not intentionally ignoring you, he's just a mute."

The words are spoken with malice and tease, but also simplistically - a fact that is just accepted; Phil's a freak.

Dan's eyes are wide, shocked, but Phil's not paying attention to that. He can feel the tears splashing down his warm, reddened cheeks. He runs out of the room without a second glance, heart pounding and stomach twisting.

It doesn't hurt because he thought he could make a friend, it hurts because he had believed the days of being called a 'freak' were long past him.

"Phil?" Chris calls out. He's seated at their usual table, but his sharp eyes noticed Phil's sullen figure before Phil could slip past.

Phil takes his time, mentally preparing himself for the sympathy bound to show on his best friends' faces, sympathy he's not even sure he deserves.

"Mate, are you...did something happen?"

Phil shakes his head as he sits down.

"Phil..." PJ says, and he knows, Phil can tell he knows - and he's 100% positive that PJ's got some crazy psychic powers.

"Did someone say something?" Chris asks, and Phil pauses, before nodding reluctantly. He knocks twice on the table, but it's soft, barely audible.

"Did they tease you?" PJ asks, and Phil nods, before shrugging.

"Care to expand?" Chris asks, but before Phil gets a chance, someone walks over, hesitating by their table.

"Uh, hi..."

Phil's freezes. He knows that voice. He knows who that voice belongs to.

"Hi..." Chris begins. He saw Phil tense, so he's cautious, and wary - visibly so, too.

"Sorry, it's just...there was this, misunderstanding, and...uh, I'm Dan, by the way."

"Chris," Chris greets slowly.

"PJ. And this is -"

"Phil." Dan cuts in, blushing slightly as he realises what he'd said.

"Sorry, we've, uh, we've met."

Chris raises his eyebrows at Phil, asking a silent question, but Phil doesn't move.

"I don't mean to interrupt, it's just...I was kind of hoping to talk to Phil."

"You know he can't..." PJ begins, wary of offending or upsetting Phil, his hands moving like Phil's usually do.

"Yeah...that's partly why I wanted to, uh, talk."

"It's okay, I can interpret. Speak away." Chris announces.

"Okay, uh..."

Dan's nervous...but Phil's not sure why. It's rather strange, to see someone else acting like that, timorously, the way Phil so oftenly acts.

"I'm sorry about the...misunderstanding before. I thought you were being rude and obnoxious, and it annoyed me - when really, I was the one being rude."

Phil shrugs one shoulder, eyes widened, and Chris understands, although Dan obviously doesn't.

"It's okay. He knows you didn't mean it. He understands."

Dan looks amazed that one look can convey so much, that Chris can understand so easily what Phil means, and Chris chokes out a low laugh. Phil knows it's just because Chris gets it, he just knows.

"Phil, I'm...I'm sorry."

Phil smiles, and scoots across, opening a spot next to him. After all, Dan is new, and now that everything has been cleared up, he can't see why he shouldn't have the chance at a new friendship.

"Care to join us?" PJ asks, and Chris properly laughs as Dan sits down. Phil absentmindedly thinks Dan looks rather adorable, puzzled as to how glassy-eyed PJ knew what Phil did.

"You have much to learn." Chris says.

Phil pulls out a scrap of paper and a pencil, and scribbles down a single word, which he passes to Dan.

'Friends?'

Dan reads the note, and nods, grinning.

"Friends." He agrees.

Phil quite likes the sound of that.

In hindsight, Dan probably should have seen the psychiatrist when his mother first recommended it. Sure, he was a little angry at her at the time, a fact that partially impaired his judgement. Still…it might have helped. Because now, his problems are too deeply ingrained for him to get rid of them, they're a part of him, despite what Charlotte tries to argue.

Rightfully, Dan should distance himself from people, to keep them from getting hurt – unintentionally or not. But he has this horrific urge to attach himself to people. He hates being lonely, he can't stand it.

And so, instead of keeping to himself like most normal people would – he blatantly asks to be friends with one of his new classmates.

Horrible decision, really.

He doesn't know why he didn't just stay away.

It's a wonder, how Phil even payed him any attention, after the way Dan had acted. He didn't even think about what he was doing, or saying. Phil doesn't understand how volatile he is, none of them do, he's not safe, he's dangerous, he's messed up, he's…

"That's not true, it's impossible…it doesn't even – no one's like that…you can't, you're not!"

"Come on, Dan, don't be such a freak, everyone wants it, even you."

He's not the kind of person someone should be friends with.

"How was school?" Dan's sister, Charlotte, asks the second he walks in the door.

"We can't have this chat over dinner, where I can pretend I'm too busy eating, and you can drop the subject with a mumble of how difficult I am?" Dan replies, his voice bouncing off the hallway walls as he makes his way to his bedroom, where he discards his bag.

"Nice try, squirt. But I think that's how things are really going to play out."

She's leaning against the kitchen bench, arms crossed, when Dan walks back in; and he can tell by the intenseness of her gaze, that he's not going to escape her interrogation.

"It was fine." He answers, nonchalantly, shrugging one shoulder.

"Fine?" Charlotte echoes.

"Yeah, fine. Made a few mistakes, and I made a few friends. It was fine, all things considered.

"Dan…" Charlotte says, and it comes out almost like a warning.

"I almost had a temper blow-out but I fixed it.

"You fixed it?"

"I didn't yell, I didn't break anything, I apologised for it and still walked away with friends. Sounds pretty fixed to me."

Charlotte steps forward and hugs Dan, and it takes all his strength not to collapse.

"I know things aren't easy for you, and now that you've had to move houses, and schools…on top of everything else you have to deal with daily…I know I can be a little overprotective and I probably annoy you, but I can't help it. I only have your best interests at heart."

"I know." Dan says into her soft curls. He's taller than her, but only by a little bit.

"And I appreciate everything you've done – getting me away from Mum and Dad, taking me in, everything. But you need to remember, Char, I'm nearly seventeen – I need to cope with things on my own, or at least learn how to."

Charlotte nods, pulling back so she's holding Dan at arm's length, her hands on his shoulders.

"You're right. So…let's talk about happier things. You said you made friends?"

Dan grins, and ignores the stray tears that slip down his cheeks.

"Their names are Phil, PJ and Chris, and…"

The next day, Dan accidentally sleeps in, which might have been okay if Charlotte hadn't started work early that morning. He makes it to school just as the bell rings, and is, fortunately, only a minute late to his first class. However, he's a little frazzled when he walks in, his anxiety threatening to rise to problematic levels and his temper boiling just below the surface.

Psychology's first up, and Phil catches his attention with an enthusiastic wave. Dan sits next to him, clenching his fists under the desk to stop the slight tremors. He thinks it's working, or perhaps he's just hoping really hard. He focuses on the teacher's instructions, and as such doesn't notice what Phil's doing, until the scrap of paper is slid in front of him.

'Are you okay?' It reads, and Dan's already got three excuses on the tip of his tongue, but for some peculiar reason none of them come out.

"Yeah, it's just – I slept in this morning so I was late, and I…I really don't like being late."

Phil's just looking at him, but Dan gets the feeling there's something more than meets the eye going on. He scribbles something else, this time below the first line.

'I think I might have something that will cheer you up.' It reads. 'But, you'll have to wait until recess.'

"What is it?" Dan asks, but Phil only grins and taps the side of his nose – a signal even Dan understands.

"I get the daunting feeling you're actually a criminal mastermind." He jokes, and the smile Phil flashes is bright enough to rival the sun.

There's a substantial part of Dan, that knows the problems he thinks are there, aren't really that big.

However, there's also a fair part of him that's screaming, that he's going to screw everything up, again, and that part is unfortunately impossible to ignore.

They don't 'talk' too much more in class, but Phil does draw a bunch of sketches – stars and lions and hearts and music notes, and Dan thinks there might be a llama there somewhere; but he only told Phil once, in passing, that they're his favourite animal…so he's not quite sure.

Every now and then, Dan turns to ask Phil something, or to sneak a glance at the answers Phil's written for the textbook questions, and he's almost blinded by Phil's smile – it's bright and wide but not in a way that is overbearing or obnoxious…it's one of the best things Dan's ever seen.

And it shouldn't be, he shouldn't be letting himself think such things – it never ends well, not for him, he should have learnt by now.

It'll only end in heartbreak, and he knows it.

Dan walks with Phil to their lockers, which are only a few feet apart, when the bell goes. Dan asks Phil where Chris and PJ are, and Phil shrugs – but he doesn't look fazed or worried, so Dan takes it as they're on their way, or something alike.

Dan takes his snack – a packet of plain crisps and a banana – from his locker. Phil's holding a brown paper bag when he walks over, and when Dan asks about the contents, Phil just puts his index finger in front of his lips, then taps the side of his nose.

Shush, it's a secret.

Dan pouts, then declares "you're a jerk."

Phil doesn't seem too hurt by the statement.

He leads Dan to the cafeteria, hand on his wrist, gently tugging him along. Dan tries to focus on where they're going and not on how Phil's touch almost burns…he's new and he needs to work out where things are as soon as possible.

"I've had a startling revelation." Dan says as they find a deserted table.

Phil's eyebrows are raised, so Dan continues.

"I'd be quite literally lost, if I hadn't met you. I know where nothing is at this school."

Phil grins, and holds up two fingers.

"Two things?" Dan asks, amused at how their conversation is quickly turning into a game of charades.

Phil shakes his head, and tilts his head slightly to the right.

"Two days?"

Phil nods enthusiastically, azure eyes sparkling.

"I've only been here for two days? Well, yeah, kind of…but I mean – if I didn't have you to show me where to go, I could still be lost three weeks from now."

Phil shakes his head, in a manner almost fond, and Dan resists the urge to tell him to kindly shut up.

"You guys can stop feeling lame now, us cool kids are finally here."

They both looks up as Chris and PJ walk over, arm in arm. Phil shakes his head and signs something – all fast, blurry movements and twisted hands – and although Dan understand none of it, he can't imagine it's anything nice, judging by Chris' indignant scoff.

"He just called me a blundering fool, basically." Chris clarifies, for both Dan and PJ's sakes.

"And he informed me, that I am, apparently, not in fact 'cool'. Which I quite completely disagree with."

"You're not cool." PJ says, manoeuvring slowly to sit at the table. "You're an absolute dork. A dork I love…but a dork all the same."

Chris pouts and sighs, and PJ kisses his cheek, one hand on his shoulder.

"This is the point where Phil would make gagging gestures and carefully detail just how sickening he finds us, in case we weren't already aware." Chris informs Dan.

Phil quickly puts his hands on his lap, hidden under the table, a rosy blush creeping up his neck. Dan personally finds it rather adorable, not that he mentions it.

"Don't mind him Phil," PJ reassures him. "He's just annoyed because the teacher found out he'd neglected to do his homework."

"How was your class?" He continues, before Chris can open his mouth again.

"Good." Dan says, and Phil gives a thumbs up.

"We were just answering questions. Nothing too exciting."

And then, something dawns on Dan, and he might as well have a cartoon light bulb over his head.

"But.. you sir, promised me a surprise." Dan reminds Phil, turning his attention completely to his balck-haired companion.

Phil nods, and holds up the brown paper bag that had been resting between his legs.

"Are they Nana Lester's infamous, mouth-watering delicious triple choc-chip brownies?" Chris inquires, looking for the most part as if Christmas had come early.

"You could be a product salesman." Dan declares. "That was a fantastic pitch."

Chris shakes his head hurriedly.

"No, mate. You literally have no idea how delicious they are. People have almost died trying to get these brownies."

Dan looks a little dubious, still not quite believing.

"I'd say that's a little bit of an exaggeration – and under most circumstances, Chris usually is weaving a few dramatic lines into his speech – but this time I actually have to agree with him. These are quite literally the best treats you will ever eat in your whole life." PJ says, and he sounds serious enough to properly convince Dan to at the very least try them.

"Okay, if you all insist. But, I mean, really…how good can they actually be?"

Phil hands them out – clean-cut squares of chocolate treat small enough to fit in Dan's palm – and Dan takes the first crucial bite…he has to rethink the past five minutes or so of his life, and every word he'd spoken during them.

His mouth is exploding with flavour, it's sweet and crunchy and chewy but not hard – like an actual slice of heaven melting on his tongue. And yes…it melted.

"Oh…Jesus Christ," He breathes, the taste soaking into his tastebuds.

"What did we say?" Chris asks, grinning smugly.

"Like the kiss of an angel, some might say." PJ adds.

Phil's smirking, but it looks more gentle than arrogant, like he's genuinely pleased they all enjoy the sweets so much. He, himself, is chewing on a piece, watching the conversation with vibrant eyes.

"I honestly, think I could die happy right now." Dan announces.

Chris and PJ laugh, and Phil's grin widens, and Dan thinks that he might just be fitting in nicely. He might just well have found somewhere he belongs, with a group of people he could honestly call friends.

It feels nice, if a little terrifying.