A/N: I am trying to limit the author's notes I put at the beginning of the story, but this one is necessary for some information. This story is a bit challenging considering the lack of dialogue. My main character is deaf so she can't communicate with others in a very efficient way for me to type/write. Therefore, I just want to clarify how communication is going to occur in case your are confused while reading. (1) Anything in italics is either sign language or writing. I tried to distinguish the two from each other clearly throughout the chapter. (2) Anything written in regular dialogue quotations (for example, "I love this story.") is Máire reading the speaker's lips unless it is otherwise specified. That's all, and if you have any other questions just PM me! Enjoy!

Rescue me from everything. I just want to live. I wish I could breathe.

Rescue Me by Hawthorne Heights

Chapter One—Welcome To LPHS

I could feel my cheeks heating up and my jaw tightening as my temper flared. She wasn't listening to me…no one was listening to me. You'd think they were the deaf ones, not me. She knew what I wanted—what I needed—and she still wouldn't even give it a chance. I could finally have a bit of normalcy in my life, and she couldn't even grant me that.

Why can't I go back to school? I signed, hands going through the motions fiercely.

I watched as her lips formed each syllable, her hands moving along with the muted words. You've been doing fine being homeschooled. Why do you want to go back now?

I just want to be able to finish out high school like a normal kid. Please, Mom…please? I tried to convey my desperation through my eyes.

My mother's shoulders sagged in defeat, and I knew I had won even if she didn't quite yet. You'll be way behind the other juniors.

I can keep up, I signed back.

This time she didn't even bother using sign language. She just nodded her head, mouthing, "Okay."

I let out a soft squeal, unheard by me, as I began jumping up and down. I quickly wrapped my arms around my mom, squeezing her as hard as I could in thanks. I felt her breath come out in a gasp against my cheek and backed away, smiling guiltily.

I moved my hands. I love you.

She smiled sadly, reaching a hand up to pat my cheek gently. I love you, too. If it becomes too hard—if you can't handle the stress, you will come back to being homeschooled…understand?

I couldn't even force myself to stop smiling at this new ultimatum. I nodded my head enthusiastically and ran upstairs to my room. I began gathering everything that I would need: pencils, pens, notebooks, etc. I even took inventory of the absent things we would need to shop for. School didn't start for another week, but I could hardly wait. This was my chance to get everything back to normal. This was my chance to be more than "that poor deaf girl."

After I lost my hearing, a lot of things changed. My entire family and I had to learn sign language in order to communicate. While I still use it regularly, I've gotten better at reading others' lips to understand them. I was pulled out of school immediately, and my mom quit her job at the hospital to homeschool me. There was no more music for me, movies were silent again, and I eventually forget the sound of my own voice. I just remember being so angry and frustrated all the time. It was like being an infant all over again, trying to convey what I wanted and needed through a language that seemed beyond foreign. I broke down more times than I could count and more than one of our vases and pictures found itself on the floor in a shattered mess.

Peter, my older brother, lived up to his name. He was my "rock" in so many ways. He was only fifteen at the time, but I could have sworn he was more mature than my father. He would sit and play cards with me in the waiting room of whatever doctor's office we were visiting that week. Whenever it all seemed like too much, he was there comforting me and giving me a reason to believe it would all turn out okay. He is the most patient and perceptive person I have ever met. I think this whole ordeal brought us closer, and sometimes I wonder if I would still change what happened…even if I could.

Peter, I think the office supplies are this way, I signed to my brother as he pushed the shopping cart through the aisles.

He nodded his head in agreement and followed me to the other side of the store. He was a sophomore at the University of Arizona and would be going back to school soon. But while he was around he promised to take me back-to-school shopping and, well, here we are.

His hazel eyes scanned the shelves, looking for anything that was on my list. I stood for a moment watching his movements. Strawberry blonde hair was cut close to his head but remained shaggy as ever. His broad, tall frame was intimidating at first glance, but I knew he was just a big teddy bear.

As he turned back to see what was holding me up, I moved my hands. I'm going to miss you. I don't want you to go.

It'll be no different than last year. You'll get by just fine without me, Máire, he replied, abandoning the cart and putting his hands on my shoulders.

I barely came up to his chest at my 5' 6" height. But I wasn't in a real school last year. What if people won't talk to me because of…you know, I signed, gesturing to my ears.

Then they are assholes. He smiled, rustling my hair playfully. He bent down a little so that he was looking straight into my eyes. Motioning with his hands he replied, You were always the stronger one. You'll do great, kid.

I didn't reply. I simply wrapped my arms around Peter's torso, hugging him tightly. If you couldn't already tell...I'm a hugger. I loved the comfort of a warm embrace, and it was one of the easiest ways to express my emotions without words.

"Come on," he mouthed, walking toward our cart. Let's finish this up…I'll even buy you some Twizzlers on the way out.

I smiled widely, jogging to catch up with him.

La Push High School was huge. I bet that's the first time it ever heard somebody say that. Compared to my kitchen and living room, La Push High's corridors might as well have been a mile-high corn maze. Kids were running up and down the halls, stopping at lockers and greeting friends. I guess it would have been more overwhelming had the noises been able to reach my ears.

I could tell a good number of the kids was staring at me as I walked alone to the front office. Most of them probably knew my story—La Push is a pretty small town. Seems that making friends might be a little harder than I had originally thought.

Finding the office was fairly easy. I walked up to the reception desk, clearing my throat and hoping it was loud enough to get the secretary's attention. Thankfully, she looked up, her eyes staring at me curiously. I quickly slid the papers I was asked to bring across the desktop, hoping to avoid any communication problems.

She smiled warmly as she read my information. She looked up, and I watched her lips for a warm "Welcome, Máire."

I grinned, nodding in response. I watched while Miss Laine—as indicated by her nameplate—wrote quickly on a piece of lined paper. She slid it towards me along with a scribbled map of the school. I began reading her note:

Welcome to La Push High School, Miss Lehigh. We are all very happy to have you. The other paper I gave you is your class schedule, and I've drawn a map on the back. The star indicates the location of your locker, number 1013. I've written the combination on the back of this sheet. The classroom numbers with highlights are where your classes are. You requested to be put in regular classes despite your circumstances. The faculty has agreed to allow you these first few days to get adjusted and switch to classes that can better cater to your needs should you feel it necessary. Principal Gurnes would like to meet with you after your last class to discuss some things with you. Other than that have a great day and just stop by if you need anything.

—Miss Laine

I smiled and grabbed the papers off the desk, hitching my bag up on my shoulder. I pushed open the door and made my way down the hallway to my locker. Fortunately, there was a water fountain only a couple of lockers down. Unfortunately, my locker was directly across from the guys' bathroom.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a girl at her locker sneak glances at me occasionally. She had wild, curly red hair that had been pulled away from her face by multiple bobby pins. Innocent blue eyes watched me curiously as I put books away in my locker.

I rolled my eyes slightly; people were always intimidated by the different and unknown. Slamming my locker shut, I walked up to the girl. She looked about my age, and her eyes widen in surprise at my bold approach.

I held out my hand for her to shake. She did so hesitantly, but her lips widened into a grin as she caught sight of my own smile. I pulled a pad of paper out of my backpack and scribbled on it quickly, handing it over to her when I was done.

Hey, I'm new. My name is Máire (pronounced MY-ruh)—kind of a hard one, I know. I'm deaf in both ears. I can read lips pretty well, but I hope you don't mind the notepad. What's your name? What classes do you have?

She looked slightly taken aback, but a friendly expression quickly made its way onto her face. I was surprised and relieved to not see a hint of pity. I wanted friends who wanted to be my friend, not who felt obligated because of my situation.

I focused back on the redhead in front of me as I caught a quick movement. My jaw dropped a little as I watched her hands begin to form letters. I was a little confused, but then I realized she was spelling out her name.

D-A-K-O-T-A. She began to frown a little as she finished. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but her lips never formed any words. "I'm sorry," she mouthed. She looked a little frustrated but then pointed to the pad of paper in my hands.

I smiled, handing it over.

Her hand raced across the paper. She would pause every now and then, bringing the pen to her mouth and biting the cap. I didn't remind her that she had borrowed that too. I'll just let her keep the writing utensil. When she was done, she passed the notepad back to me. I looked over it quickly.

Hey, I'm Dakota. Sorry but I only know the alphabet in sign language and not very well. I guess we'll have to pass notes until you can teach me. I have US History next—

I grinned widely, pointing to the paper then to myself.

She seemed a bit confused but understood when she saw what I was pointing to on the page. She grabbed the pen out of my hand and wrote in the margins.

You have history next, too?

I nodded.

Awesome. C'mon we can walk there together.

I spent the rest of the day going to classes and getting to know Dakota better—through paper, of course. I had most of my classes with her, and I made the best of the ones she wasn't in. Dakota explained that her family had moved to La Push when she was fourteen years old, and she had a hard time adjusting since she was one of the only "pale faces" to attend the high school. I laughed, joking that now there was one more. I guess I never really thought of that aspect. I was so focused on my deafness that I forgot how almost all of the kids at La Push High School were descendants of the Quileute tribe. Very few were so-called "pale faces" because the elders rarely let them onto the reservation. It wasn't a matter of discrimination but one of space. La Push only had so much room, and it rightfully belonged to the Quileutes.

My attention snapped back to the present as Dakota slid a piece of paper into my hand. The last bell had rung, and we were walking toward our lockers together. I unfolded the note carefully and began reading.

Brady, my boyfriend, is picking me up today. Do you need a ride? We live in La Push so your house can't be that far out of the way.

I smiled graciously but quickly wrote back that I couldn't accept. I explained that I had a meeting with the principal soon and didn't want to make Brady and her wait around.

She frowned. O-K, she spelled out with her hands. C-U-T-O-M-O-R-R-O-W.

I chuckled, shaking me head and scribbling quickly on the piece of paper. She took it from my hands, and her shoulders shook with laughter as she read it.

Sorry, I really wish I could accept your offer. Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, by the way, we definitely need to work on your sign language…and spelling too apparently.

I waved goodbye as I made my way toward the front office. Dakota smiled, waving back before she turned and walked to the front of the school. I wasn't really looking forward to my meeting with Principal Gurnes, but if it kept me in school then I could grin and bear it.

I smiled at Miss Laine as I stepped into the office. I watched the friendly secretary stand from behind her desk and walk over to a door labeled "Principal," which was a bit cliché if you asked me. She knocked lightly, then after a short pause opened the door and motioned for me to go in.

Scooting past her, I entered Principal Gurnes' office and took a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. He was an older man in his early fifties with a bright smile and kind eyes. I couldn't help but feel comfortable in his presence.

He slid a piece of paper over to me, and I read the typed print.

Miss Lehigh,

It is a pleasure to have you attend La Push High school. We are all very excited to have you, but there are a few details we have to work out. First, all your examinations will be written as far as testing is concerned. No one on the faculty has any problems with this. However, a bigger problem is class participation. It counts for a large chunk of your grade. Unfortunately, none of the teachers here are familiar with sign language so the board has come up with two options for you: we can provide a translator to be with you in each class or you can make do with a personal dry-erase board. I know that the latter seems a bit unprofessional, but we'd like to accommodate in any way we can should you feel you would like more independence. It is your choice but talk it over with your family first and come to me with your decision Wednesday morning. Lastly, we would just like you to feel free to come to us with any concerns. I hope your first day went well, and I look forward to seeing you again—given that it is only a friendly visit and not suggested by any teachers for misbehavior.

—Principal Gurnes

I looked up to see him smiling, and I offered a slight grin. I pulled a piece of lined paper from one of my copybooks and began writing a response. When I was finished, I pushed the paper across his desk and waited patiently. His pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and placed them on carefully as his eyes scanned the page.

Principal Gurnes,

Thank you for your warm welcome. I am also very excited to be here, and I hope that I can be an asset to this school. I understand the importance of the concerns you have pointed out, and I have no problem with the solutions you have come up with. In regards to the second point, I would prefer the dry-erase board…simply to have the most normal experience possible, but I will talk it over with my parents first. My day was fine, thank you for asking, and I look forward to more friendly visits. Thank you again.

—Máire Lehigh

Principal Gurnes smiled as he finished reading my letter, and gestured for me to exit. I stood up quickly, holding my hand out for him to shake. He grasped it firmly. He didn't say anything, but truly…he didn't have to. His grin said it all. "Welcome to La Push High School."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it and sorry for the wait. Please review and tell me what you think! Peace out.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight (characters, setting, plot, ect.) because it belongs to Stephenie Meyer, and I do not own the song Rescue Me because it belongs to Hawthorne Heights.