Okay, this chapter is like…10 pages long…so this is my warning to you all.
But it's worth it! I hope!
Thank you to shroomich from Tumblr! She helped edit it and revise it and all of it.
All 10 pages!
Anyway, this is the first chapter of like…I really don't know how many, but I'm planning to have a lot of relationship issues and many different pairings and drama and you know BLAH... Just another warning there.
And like…a lot of trigger warnings and shit I guess?
But anyway, enjoy! 10 pages long, so, be ready!
My first morning, I had literature class at 9:35. It was difficult to find a good seat – or any seat, because this classroom didn't have a handicapped seat or a place to fold my wheelchair up. So I ended up just sitting by the wall, somewhere out of the way, book bag in my lap and head high. I wasn't embarrassed or anything, I was just worried I would have to sit next to the wall for every class. I was going to tell the teacher first thing that I would like a handicap seat or something to be installed in the room.
Unfortunately, I never even got to see the teacher. The class ended up being canceled after 15 minutes of sitting around. We were told that teacher wouldn't show up at all. Apparently he had an incredibly busy schedule today, had to practically be in two places at once – this classroom one of them – and his other appointment must have taken priority.
The administrator that came in and told us that class was cancelled said that they, the school, has been trying to fix this problem for about a week. Some of the students were really pissed about it, as if they felt that this year was off to a terrible start and that it wouldn't get better. But it meant that I could talk to someone to get a handicapped seat for this class, get used to the campus for a few hours, or even get that haircut that I've been putting off.
So after that incident, for about a half hour, I sat in one of the campus's park areas to eat a snack I had brought along with me. It was a bit chilly, kind of breezy, too, and in the sky were large, puffy clouds, bright with sunlight. I had a coat on, shielding my arms from the chill of the draft. I didn't own a scarf, so my neck and head were open to all of the elements. It wasn't a big deal to me; I love cool weather.
For the rest of the time, I wheeled my way around campus, getting used to the sidewalks and building placements and the amount of people on the campus. And the traffic. Oh man, the traffic. I was scared I was going to get hit three or four times by speeding trucks and stupid drivers. Not really the best way to start out my life on campus.
Speaking of, the campus is massive. There are about fifty or more buildings, and I only had classes in about three of them today. My dad and I tried to schedule my classes in a way that wouldn't be too much trouble for me as far as getting around was concerned. I only have five classes this semester, too, so it's not like my schedule will harm me academically.
My teachers should be okay with it if I'm late once in a while. I imagine they should be since my dad and I went through this whole process of telling the school about my disability and my wheelchair. So much paperwork…so little time.
Okay, back to my four hour break.
I tried to get around seeing every building, but there were so many, I ended up stopping after I saw some of the math and art buildings. That's when I passed a place where I could get my haircut. It was near the cosmetology building. I figured it must be a good place to get a haircut.
It was a Spa looking place, and I felt like I was the only guy there. Women were everywhere, and all over me once I rolled into the place. They just kept coming!
They were telling me how cute I was and how much they wanted me to meet their daughters…and sons! Some of them even kissed my cheeks and complimented me on my upper arm strength. How embarrassing was that? I just wanted to get a haircut, not kisses.
I was in a whole new place though, so I figured that I would have to get used to it. I don't think anyone in this college town has seen a disabled college student.
They were probably only nice to me because I was disabled. I don't like when people do that. Though, they did say I was 'just the cutest thing that they ever did see!' which I guess was a compliment. Vriska did say that people would treat me differently here. She knows more than I thought.
"Now…I think I might be done." The hair stylist tells me, buzzing some hair off the left side of my head.
With my eyes tightly shut, shoulders tense under the hair apron, I tried to sit as still as possible. I'm not scared of haircuts or anything, I'm just nervous about how I'm going to look after this.
I decided on getting a mohawk style hair cut, mainly because my hair had been starting to bug my ears. I've wanted to get a mohawk since I was in middle school, but my step-mom always said 'no way'. My dad said it would be a great idea for me to get one because it would help me stand out. My step-mom just wouldn't hear it and neither would Vriska. Now that I'm on my own, I don't have to listen to what any of them say.
I open one of my eyes slightly at some point to see how the cut is going, and I see a blurry image of myself in the mirror mounted in front of me and of the lady standing behind me, her razor still grooming behind my ears. Not bad.
"Okay, just one more thing," she says to me, walking from behind me to her table. I hear her put the electric razor down and pick up something else.
Finally unable to resist seeing the result of her work, I open my eyes fully, staring at myself in the mirror. My hair is just gone on both sides of my head and a thick strip of hair hangs in my face.
The feeling of having almost no hair is really bizarre, like a weird weight is off my shoulders, except instead of my shoulders, it's my head.
I want to run my fingers through my mohawk and style it some – slicking it back, brushing it forward, brushing it to the side – but the woman still was snipping at the lose ends of my mohawk to make me look my best. I'm only able to stare at my new hairstyle, smiling massively.
The hair stylist was now fluffing my mohawk some and snipping off some pieces of hair that were too long. I tried to look over to her, standing on my left, not wanting to move my head and possibly ruin it when it's almost done. I look back into the mirror, when finally she stops to walk in front of me.
"Do you want to keep this part in the front?" She asks me, holding onto a bit of my hair that was in my face.
I look up at her and say "Yes, please," with a massive smile on my face.
She smiles, letting my hair fall back in my face. "Oh, alright, you cutie pie," she says, ruffling up my mohawk again. I roll my eyes, my smile fading some.
"Do you like it?" the woman asks stepping behind me. She gazes into the mirror with me as she starts to comb my hair back, my locks falling back forward when her fingers started to style it again.
"Oh, I love it!" I exclaim. "I love it very much, thank you." I tell her, beaming once again.
The lady smiles and moves back around me to put her scissors away. "I'm glad you do, sweetheart."
I laugh softly, blushing some. No one has ever called me sweetheart before.
"I…I love it, thank you." I say again, still smiling as she unbuttons the apron.
Her voice is bright and pleased as she speaks, "I'm very glad you do," she repeats. She removes the apron and begins to fold it up.
"I do, I do," I say, fluffing and playing with my hair. It's really soft now for some reason. My hair always seems to get really soft after getting a hair cut.
I continue to style it while I wait for the hair stylist to get my wheelchair from the wall. I would have gotten it myself, but she put it so far away from this chair for some reason. It's like she wanted to get it for me afterwards, so she put it far away from me so she could.
When she finished unfolding my wheelchair, I look over at it. It wasn't going to be that much of an effort to get into the chair. I had a hunch that the hair stylist wanted to help me.
After a bunch of 'No, no, I got this'-es from me and a bunch of 'Are you sure?'-s from the lady, I'm finally able to wheel myself around. The lady is nice, but maybe a little too nice for my comfort.
"I really don't believe that you're in college!" She said after we both got into the entrance room of the Spa. She spins on her heel to face me, gushing, "You seem like you're still supposed to be in high school!"
I really hate when people say that – I mean, say that I look younger than I am. It seemed rude to say so, though, so I continued to chat as though unperturbed.
"Yeah, yeah, everyone says that," I say, shifting in my chair a bit nervously. I'm really anxious to get out of here right now. I don't want to be late for my next, technically first, class of the day.
The lady smiles gently at me and stands in front of me for a bit, seeming unsure of what to say next.
I quickly change the topic. "H-How much will that be?" I ask, opening the book bag in my lap to find my wallet. I know it's in here somewhere, I'm sure I put it in my bag this morning.
Or did I leave it on my bed….
Shoot.
"Oh dear, you're fine, cutie pie" the lady tells me, waving her hand at me as if to say 'Oh, you'. "It's on the house."
I sighed and looked up at her, my arms slumping in my lap. "Are…are you sure?" I don't know why I'm so flustered right now. It might have been the fact that I hate when people give me stuff for free. It's because I'm disabled, simple as that, nothing more.
The lady smiles and giggles. "Yes, yes, sweetheart." I felt my face turn redder. "It's on the house. Besides, don't you have somewhere to be?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at me knowingly.
Suddenly I remember that I only have 30 minutes left to get to class.
"Oh, yes, thank you!" I yell out, surprising myself with the volume of my voice. I make sure that my book bag won't fall out of my lap before I grab both wheels. "Th-Thank you for the hair cut, miss," I say a bit softer.
The lady laughs well naturedly. "Oh, you can just call me Lily."
I nod and say, "Thank you, Lily."
The math building is where I'm heading next, and it's maybe 10 minutes away from the Spa. I probably should have considered the weather before I got a hair cut. My head is freezing right now, and my ears and face are cherry red because of it. I'll probably buy a hat and a scarf once winter comes around. I'll probably go shopping with Gamzee this weekend, actually, so I can take care of it then.
Anyway, according to the college online site, the math class is pretty small: only about thirty students, compared to almost one hundred students in some of my other classes. It doesn't bug me too much that I might have to speak up in my math class once in a while. I was okay at math; not great, but okay. This meant that I wouldn't have to ask many questions – but it also meant that I might have to give answers if asked.
I'm nervous, but full of excitement as I wheel myself up to the front entrance of the math building. It's 2:05 PM and class begins at 2:20 PM. The class is on the first floor, but I want to get there early to talk to the teacher and find a good, vacant place in the class to sit with my wheelchair. A seat in the front row would be nice, but not right in the middle because I don't want to get in anyone's way if I ever end up being a bit late. Hopefully the class will have a handicapped seat, unlike my Lit class.
When I got to the front door, I realized that I had to open the door manually. I let my head fall back, defeated, sighing aggravated. It's not a total downer, but it is kind of annoying that I have to go through this trouble.
"Hey, I'll get that for ya," Comes a voice from behind me. I turn my head to get a look at the helpful individual, and see another student: his clothes seem casual enough to not be a professor, anyway. Worn-looking jeans, a black band T-shirt and some yellow Converses. He appears otherwise unkempt as well – including his hair, which sticks up atrociously around the arms of his rimless glasses. He looks lazy, not apparently caring about his appearance – but he definitely managed his hygiene well enough.
"Great, thanks," I mumble weakly. I would have liked to open it on my own, but I'm not about to say that and risk sounding rude to this guy I don't even know. It's probably stupid to worry about that. Plus, he's obviously entering the building too, it'd be troublesome to wait for the cripple to wrestle the door open.
I wheel my chair out of the way of the entrance and watch him walk past me to open it. He has a small, sagging book bag on one shoulder, a tell-tale sign of a hefty book or laptop.
"What happened to you?" he asks casually as he looks at me, holding the door wide open for me to go first.
I hated going into detail about what put me in this chair. So before I wheeled myself inside, I look down at my lap and say, as vaguely and guarded as possible, "Car wreck…"
The responses are always the same, and this guy's is no exception: his voice drops and he says, "Oh," sounding obviously as though walking on eggshells, and definitely curious.
"I'm so used to people asking, so it's okay," I tell him, smiling to show that it's not a big deal before wheeling myself inside.
"I didn't mean to bring it up…" he says, walking in behind me.
"It's okay!" I say to him, wheeling myself around to face him.
"Okay… and my name's Th-" He stops and breathes a gusty sigh, obviously annoyed, slouching and looking embarrassed about something. I cock an eyebrow at him, wondering what's up with the sudden mood change. Not even a moment later, he corrects his posture and states, "The name's Sollux, if you were wondering."
"I'm Tavros…T-Tavros Nitram…" I stutter, wondering if I have a weird or embarrassing speech or verbal malfunction too.
"Tavros? Tavros Nitram?"
I glance up at him, perplexed by his reaction. He said my name like he knew me or someone told him my name, or like I was a secret agent about to go on an adventure or something. I'm not sure if the way he said it was good or if it was bad.
"Do you know me?" I ask, trying not to sound too excited.
Sollux blinks at me a couple of times, as though trying to understand something. "Yeah, yeah. I…I think I heard about you from my roommate."
"Who's your roommate?" I inquire, wondering who here would talk about me to a total stranger.
"Yeah…" he starts, "I met him just this morning…and he's like…" he stopped for a second, looking away again. He started making a motion with his hands, like he was fluffing some cotton or tissue paper in a present. "He's like…an Italian guy?"
Oh! This guy was Gamzee's roommate! I might see Sollux a lot more now, huh?
"You mean Gamzee?" I ask, trying to hide my excitement.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, that guy…." Sollux confirms, pointing at me. He snickered and lets his arm fall, shaking his head. "He's a weird guy."
I laugh along easily, agreeing, "Yeah he is. I've been friends with him since middle school." I tell him. "He's my best bro."
"Wow, that long?" he asks, surprised, "Damn! I can't stand the guy for two minutes."
"Well, that's too bad." I had been picking at my fingernails and I didn't even catch it until just now. I don't get why I'm so nervous about talking to Sollux. "He's a really cool guy once you get to know him and all; he's really generous, too." I force myself to stop picking at my nails by holding on my arm rests and look up at Sollux. "He says he's going to buy me prosthetic legs one day."
"Yeah, he told me something about that. Not like I was paying too much attention, but he did mention it."
My eyes widen a bit. "Why was he telling you about that?" I look away, thinking out loud. "It's not like I care that Gamzee told anyone. I just figured that he had better things to talk about than getting me prosthetic legs."
Sollux shrugs at the question, adjusting his book bag on his shoulder. "We were talking about getting a new stove 'cauthe –" he sighed again, apparently annoyed by his lisp.
He gulps once, as if trying to suppress the lisp, and begins talking again: "Because," He pauses, "We need a new stove for our dorm because the one we have won't turn on. It's completely busted. Gayzee or whatever said he had money, but that he was saving it for something and then yada, yada, yada," he waves his hand holding his book bag indifferently, "I found out about your soon to be new legs and now I have to dig up some money for a new stove top."
"Wow um…" I'm not sure what to say about this information. "That's some…story, I guess," I said, almost dully.
Gamzee loves to cook, so I'm kind of confused about why he's not using at least $30 or so from his savings to get a new stove. I don't need new legs that bad. I can get around in my wheelchair just fine. It gets me free haircuts, anyway, if it really was free of charge because of that.
"He says that's all he's working for," Sollux mentions after some silence.
I blink at him, wondering what he was talking about. "Working for what?"
"Those proth-oh my god," he smacks himself on the head, exasperated. "Those prosthetic…legs." He emphasizes, hand falling back to his side.
"I really wish Gamzee would spend his money on more important stuff, like food and a new stove," I mumble, pausing to think, "And he has school to worry about now, so…" I sigh, looking down at my thighs, picking at my fingernails again. "My legs can wait."
"He really does seem to care a lot about you…" Sollux says out of the blue.
"What do you mean?" I ask tentatively, trying to keep my expression even as I look back up at him.
Sollux shrugged again. "I don't mean anything by saying that," he defends, looking away from me. "From the time we met to the time I left for class, Gamzee said something about you every ten minutes or so." His face twists into a small scowl. "It was kind of annoying, actually."
I'm too busy thinking about what Gamzee was doing to hear what Sollux was saying. I never knew Gamzee talked about me that much. We're best bros and all, but…I don't know. How much he talks about me won't stop me from being friends with him or anything, obviously – it's flattering, if I'm being honest. It's just something I have to keep a mental note on and ask about later.
"I say just be glad that you're gonna be able to walk soon."
I shake my head, getting out of that trance and look up at him. I didn't realize that I was sort of hypnotized by the thought of Gamzee talking about me.
"Sorry, what?" I ask, trying not to sound rude.
"I said that just be glad that you're going to be able to walk soon…that wheelchair must suck to get around in," Sollux motions to the wheelchair while speaking.
I smile, looking down and grabbing onto my armrests. "No, no I-I'm fine with my wheelchair. I've been riding around in this baby ever since freshman year in high school." I can feel Sollux's surprise at this even though I'm not looking at him. Everyone is always so surprised when I tell them I've been in a wheel chair for five years. "I just wish Gamzee wouldn't waste his study time to work to save up for me." I say in a quiet voice.
The space around the two of us became painfully quiet despite the noise of the passersby chatting around us. Sollux speaks up after a few moments, and I look up to see him scowling down, "You should be grateful."
"I – I am!" I cry, defending myself. "I just…" I'm not sure what else to say at this point. I'm making a fool of myself.
I just sigh, slumping back into my chair once more, hands falling off of my armrests.
I feel drained, thinking about all of this at once. I feel bad for not being as grateful as I should be about what Gamzee is trying to do for me. I just feel like… like he should worry about himself sometimes. He's been saving up for me for so long: I thought he would have given up by now.
"I think that Gamzee should worry about himself for a while," I finally state carefully. "He's been saving up since freshmen year in high school." I mumble. I look up to see that Sollux still has a disgruntled look on his face. I have to convince him that I'm grateful; I just want what's best for Gamzee. "A-And it's not that I'm not grateful for what he has done or anything, i-it's just that…" I'm not sure what to say at this point. I look back down at my lap. "I don't know…I feel kinda bad now…"
"I think I get what you mean, dude," Sollux finally says, making me look back up at him, "but I think that you should be happy that you might be able to walk again soon. That's all I'm saying."
"Yeah, I know…" I look up at the clock mounted on the far wall, seeing that it's 2:17 PM.
"Ah, shit!" I exclaim, sitting up quickly and grasping my wheels. I must have scared Sollux, who followed my gaze to the clock, looking kind of startled.
"What?" he asks lost.
"I might be late for class!" I tell him, "Shit!"
"What class do you have?" He asks, looking over at me.
I scramble to find the piece of paper with my schedule on it in my book bag. It know it's in there. Where, though, I don't know. I open each zipper and dig in every pocket frantically for it.
I did eventually find it. I unfold the paper and scan it to find the classroom number. "Math 110…room, uh…" I move my face in closer to the paper to read and get the room just right. "GH 506…"
Sollux chuckles, adjusting his book bag strap again. "That's the same class I have."
I looked up at him, gripping the paper more, smiling. "Th-That's awesome…!"
"Yeah, yeah, I guess so…" he says, laughing a bit. He walks around behind my wheelchair, and I watch him as he does so, wondering what he was doing. Isn't he supposed to be going, too?
He grabs onto the handles of my wheelchair and bends over my shoulder to talk in my ear. My breath stops short, feeling him leaning so closely. It's not like I was nervous, or anything, it was just a weird thing to do.
"You don't mind, do you?" Sollux asks, sounding like he would help regardless of the answer.
"O-Of course not!" I said a bit too loud. I seriously need to figure out how to control my volume.
"It's the least I could do to make up for what I said before." He told me ,standing back up straight.
"I-It's alright…" I said softly, still gripping the paper in my lap tight:
Sollux starts to push my wheelchair forward and to the right. He grunted, complaining, "Fuck, I've never pushed on of these before."
"Oh, I-I can move myself if you want," I offer.
"Nah, its cool…it's the least I can do considering you got an Italian freak by your side."
That… that's a little harsh, but I still laugh at it to pretend that I agree. Gamzee isn't a freak at all, he's just… eccentric?
Having a whole dorm to yourself has its advantages. It means that you don't have to tell anyone where you're going, and you know that no one's going to touch your stuff. However, it also means that you are alone in a dorm, which is kind of weird to get used to. It doesn't matter very much tonight, though. Tonight is movie night with Gamzee and some of his friends in his dorm. I haven't been told what we're watching, but we decided last night to have this movie night every Monday night because Mondays suck and deserve to be improved by a good movie with good bros. Movie night is going to be a good way to wind down. Plus, Gamzee and I have the same first afternoon class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so we can stay up as late as we want to.
I decide to change into something not as formal as I would for classes. I only dressed in a sweater vest and dress pants for school – I don't know, it just seems weird to go to class in anything too casual, I guess – something that Sollux apparently disagrees with, judging by his attire. It would be stupid to wear that for a movie night with Gamzee and two of his friends.
While I'm looking for a clean shirt to wear, my phone goes off with a text message from Vriska, obvious to me without even having to look because of the ring tone: 'Spiderwebs' by No Doubt.
I sigh and looked over to the table which my phone is sitting on. I turn my wheelchair from my drawer and wheel myself over to desk to pick it up, opening the flip-screen device to read her message.
'Hey Taaaaaaaav! How's college treating you?'
'Just fine, Vriska. Thanks for asking.'
I pause before sending the message, wondering if I should tell Vriska about my hair or not. It would certainly be a good conversation starter.
'So I got a haircut today…' I typed at the end, hesitating when sending the message.
'WOW! It must look gr8! "
'I guess it does? Would you like a picture?'
'Why, of course, baby brother!'
I breathe a relieved sigh, smiling. At least she didn't outright reject my choice – not like it would have changed anything, I mean, my hair was already sheared off, it's not like I can get it back.
I start to get the camera ready for a picture of my haircut. Before I could, another message from Vriska came in.
'I don't have all day, Tav!'
I sigh and hit the 'end' button because I didn't want to reply just yet. I have a picture to take, gosh darn-it.
I'm not the best with phones so it takes me a few tries to take the picture. I kept accidentally takeing pictures of my lap or only my forehead. I finally manage to get one of me half-smiling with the mohawk falling in the way of my right eye. I really hope Vriska likes it. I might send it off to Gamzee as well to surprise him.
I send it off to Vriska and wait for her to reply, and I make sure to send it to Gamzee as well. I think he's in class right now, but he'll look at it afterwards. He should be out any minute now. He's going to come by my dorm anyway so we can start this movie night, but I figure might as well give him a warning of what he's going to see.
Vriska didn't reply right away, so I roll my way back over to my drawers and start to look for another shirt to wear. I wanted a shirt that says 'I love movie night' but also 'it's not like I was waiting for movie night all day or something like that.' While I was thinking about this, a reply from Vriska comes.
'You don't look half bad with that! I wonder what mom would say.'
'I'm sure that she'd like it. I think dad will love it.'
'I am sure he will too, Tavros!'
I don't know how to reply to that. I'm hoping that the conversation would end right here. I had to get ready, and Vriska doesn't seem herself and it's getting kind of awkward for me to talk to her. Oh look, another message.
'So, what else is new? Is that Gamzee boy still bugging you?'
'Gamzee is just fine. He's not a bother to me at all.'
'He is a bother, Tav, and we all know it.'
'You don't know him like I do Vriska'
'And I plan to keep it that way.'
I sigh, still wondering why she doesn't want to get to know Gamzee. He isn't as bad as everyone says he is.
I just stare at the phone for a little while, not sure what to say to her. It kind of hurts, to be honest. He's my best bro…
Vriska has never liked Gamzee and there's probably no way to change that. At first, Gamzee seems to be this guy that's really out there, only daydreaming about stuff that might never happen. But, once you get to know him and everything, it's obvious that he's a good person. He's always dreaming about what he could do or what might happen next and it makes him confident and optimistic. I've only ever seen him have a bad day once in all the years I've known him.
I decide that I might as well end the conversation formally, 'Well, goodnight Vriska. Gamzee and I are going to watch a movie or something tonight.'
'Stay away from him, Tavros. He's a BAD influence on you!'
'But he's not on drugs anymore…'
'Doesn't matter! Once an addict, always an addict!'
'He's not an addict. '
It's not like I want to get rid of her or anything, but I have to get ready for movie night. On top of the hurry, she was saying bad things about my best bro. I can't handle that right now.
She doesn't respond for a while after that. She must have given up on the fight. I sigh and begin to look for a shirt again. But then my phone rang again. I'm going to be sitting in my wheelchair topless all night if this keeps up! I slouched annoyed.
"Vriska, come on…" I told myself. "I have to get ready…" Part of me really felt that she could hear me.
'You're too naïve to realize that he is! You only see from the outside, the only part that you can see. You never look into people's hearts or into their minds! You never see what people are truly made of! Once you can do that, you might see the truth of what he really is! He's just a pot head that wants to bring you down, baby brother! I'm here to make sure that never happens!'
I groan, irritated. Yes, she is my older sister and yes, I always take her advice, and always have. Just, she's been saying all this stuff about Gamzee ever since she saw him doing drugs once. And that was five years ago. She won't let it go.
'Well, thanks, I guess. But I don't think Gamzee would do that to me, since I'm his best bro and all.'
'One day you will see, and you will THANK me DEARLY for warning you, baby brother. I care about you. you know that, right?'
'I know you care about me. But, I'm in college now and I can take care of myself.'
'But you are still so naïve, Tavros. I'm here to make sure you don't fuck up again!'
'Again?'
And with that, she stopped texting me altogether that night.
It was so weird. No matter what good I said about Gamzee and no matter what Gamzee did for her, Vriska would always have something bad to say about him, whether it was his hair or what he did in high school years before. It was really starting to bug me. Gamzee is a member of the family and my best bro. One day I will tell Vriska that she should shut her mouth! I'm just… not sure how I'll go about doing that.
I can't stop thinking about what she meant by 'again', though, and it remains at the edge of my mind while I finally sort out my clothes.
