After piano class, I had calculus, which meant I had to separate from André, since he was only in trigonometry. Still, he walked me to the classroom.

"This is your stop," he said as he stopped in front of the door.

"Thank you so much," I told him.

"No problem," André said. "So lunch is after this period. I was wondering if you wanted to eat with us."

"Absolutely," I said, grinning.

"Awesome. Do you want me to meet you here after so I can show you the way?"

"That's okay," I told André. "I'll have to learn my way around eventually."

"You sure?" André asked. I nodded. "Okay. I'll meet you in the Asphalt Café at noon. You just have to make it back to the lobby, then out the double doors to your left."

"Got it," I said with a nod. I gave André a little wave before I went inside the classroom and sat in the first row.

Calculus passed by quickly, and before I knew it, it was lunch time. I managed to find my way outside to the Asphalt Café easily. What was much more difficult was finding André and his friends. There had to be over three hundred kids out there, but André was nowhere to be seen. I eventually gave up and sat down at the first table I saw with the least amount of people already sitting at it. I timidly approached the table and sat down. The five kids gave me a dirty look, then grabbed their food and left. I looked around; everyone in the Asphalt Café was staring at me and whispering. It was times like that when I desperately wished that I could hear, not that I really needed to. I knew what they were saying. They were talking about the crazy deaf girl who decided to go to a performing arts school when she couldn't hear the world's loudest blow horn aimed directly into her ear, let alone the sound of her own piano playing.

I got my lunch out of my bag and stared at my sandwich. I had been starving just a minute before, but my appetite disappeared when those kids did. I waited for André or Cat or Beck or anyone to sit down with me. But no one ever did. I looked up and saw more fingers pointed in my direction while their owners whispered to their friends, covering their mouths so I wouldn't be able to understand.

I had had enough. I grabbed my bag and stood up, leaving my untouched sandwich on the table. I rushed back inside the building, looking down at the ground so no one would see the tears that were quickly beginning to stream down my cheeks. Of course, one thing that's very important when you're deaf is to always watch where you're going, since you can't hear someone telling you to watch where you're going. I ended up running straight into a group of very large, very intimidating boys. I started to cry harder as they shoved me out of their way.

Once I was inside, I looked around for the bathroom so I could cry in peace, but the stupid maze of a school just kept leading me back to the lobby. Finally, I gave up. I sat down on the stairs, buried my face in my hands, and started to cry. After a few minutes had passed, I felt someone's arm wrap around my shoulders. I sat up and wiped my eyes. Once the excess tears were no longer blurring my vision, I saw André sitting next to me, looking worried.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asked me.

"I made a mistake, André," I told him. "I made a really stupid mistake."

"What was your mistake?" André asked.

"Coming here!" I exclaimed. "I shouldn't have come here, André! I shouldn't have applied, I shouldn't have auditioned, and I shouldn't have been accepted! This is all so…wrong! I don't belong here! I don't belong in the hearing world! I belong with the other deaf freaks!" I had started to sign my words in angry, exaggerated gestures as I spoke them.

"That's not true, Tori," André told me. "You're wrong. I'm sorry, but you're so, so wrong. I've heard you play. You're incredible."

"Really?" I asked, wiping my eyes.

"Really. Lane was right. You are so special and amazing. You definitely belong at this school," André told me.

"Why?" I demanded. "Why do I belong here?"

"Because you're a phenomenal pianist."

"But why? You can't make such a strong statement without having something to back it up with," I insisted.

"Okay," André said, nodding. "How 'bout this? You belong here because I can't get that song you played earlier out of my mind. You belong here because when you were playing in class today, you had everyone mesmerized. You belong here because while you were playing, every single hair on the back of my neck stood up. That piece of music you played today was the single most beautiful thing I had ever heard in my entire life, and I've heard a lot of stuff. That's why you're a phenomenal pianist. That's why you belong here. Does that answer your question?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It does."

"So you'll stay?"

I exhaled. "I don't know, André. But after seeing you say that…I think I'm more likely to stay."

André smiled. "Excellent. So, uh, what are you doing out here? What set you off? Something in calculus?" I shook my head. "Something at lunch?" I nodded hesitantly. "What happened?"

"Well, first, I couldn't find you," I began.

"I'm sorry. Our stupid trig teacher held us all after class 'cause we were texting each other complaining about what an idiot he is," André said. "I told him you were waiting for us, but he didn't care. I tried to leave anyway, but the asshole blocked the door. He's a big dude."

I smirked. "It's okay. But I sat down at a table, and the second after I did, the kids all got up and walked away. Everyone was staring at me and pointing and whispering. I guess I just got self-conscious."

"I'm sorry, Tori. I would have told them all to go screw themselves," André said. I wasn't entirely sure what that meant—sarcasm and most figures of speech don't translate well through sign language or lips alone—but I decided not to ask. I didn't want to look like an idiot.

"Well, thanks," I said, though I wasn't sure if I should be thanking him for a comment that seemed so crude. Screw meant sex…How do you have sex with…And why would you say that to…Ah, whatever.

"You're welcome. And by the way, I think sign language is the coolest language ever," André said, pointing to my hands. I hadn't stopped signing since I had inadvertently begun during my rant. It just made me feel more comfortable. Sign language was like my security blanket.

"Really?" I asked. "You don't think it's weird that I talk with my hands?"

"Not at all."

"Do you think it's weird that I'm deaf, yet my favorite thing to do is play the piano?"

"Well, I certainly wouldn't have guessed that," André said. "It's a little strange. But who cares?"

I put my hair in front of my face so he wouldn't see my blushing cheeks. "Thanks. That's—" I stopped talking and looked up when I felt the familiar sensation of stampeding feet run up to us. It felt like a herd of elephants, but it was really just Beck, Jade, Cat, and Robbie.

"There you are," Beck said. "We've been looking everywhere for you guys! Come on. Lunch is almost over."

"Do you want to go back out there, Tori?" André asked me.

"Yeah. I do," I told him, feeling more confident after everything he had said to me.

"Are you sure? You don't have to if—"

"I want to," I said firmly as I stood up.

"Alright," André said before he got back on his feet and led the way outside. Conversation seemed to stop when people saw me with them, but that could have been my imagination. We sat down at a table in the middle of the Asphalt Café. After the others came back from getting their food from a truck (which didn't seem very appetizing to me), we all started talking and had a great time. I barely even noticed all of the people staring at me.

Barely.