A/N: For some reason, in the middle and at the end, there's something wrong with the spacing, and it's bunched up together really weird, not letting me put separate paragraphs. I deleted and fixed it about eight times to no avail. Ugh. If anyone has any idea why, let me know. If not, hopefully it won't do that next chapter.

"Marco," said his mother, knocking loudly on the door, "it's time to get up." Marco simply groaned in response.

"Marco," she repeated, beginning to lose patience.

"I'm up!" he shouted, proving his point by closing his dresser loudly. "I'm just not so happy about it!"

"Good morning," she said, and walked back to her own room.

Marco sighed. His opinion hadn't changed about the new school. It also didn't help that it was five a.m. He could be an early riser when he wanted to be, but he definitely didn't want to be.

He felt around for the chair that had his clothes on it, hoping to God that they matched. He hadn't been overly concerned picking out the clothes. Now that he was about to wear them, he was quite nervous about the way they looked.

"Potete fare questo," he said to himself as he carefully dressed. He shook his head. "You can do this."

Marco managed to get his clothes on with only a few falls, which was an improvement compared to all the other times he'd done it.

He held his arm out, making sure it hit the doorknob, preventing him from simply grabbing at thin air. After he felt it. He opened the door slowly. What should have been such a quick trip from the bedroom to the kitchen was made so much longer by one ailment.

"Ma," he called out her name, assuming she was in her room still, but was surprised when he heard her voice right behind him.

"What do you want for breakfast, Marco?" she asked. Marco heard the cabinets opening and closing, so he assumed she'd already started on something. Once upon a time, he'd make his own breakfast.

"I'm not hungry," he answered, dropping his head on the table.

"Nonsense. I'll make you eggs." Marco knew this, of course. She had already started doing it before she asked him what he wanted. He could smell them from miles away.

"Whatever," said Marco.

"Cathy is going to be here in a few minutes to take you to school, Marco," said Mrs. Del Rossi, putting some eggs onto her son's plate.

"Who's that?" he asked, not caring that he sounded rude.

"Your new…" she tried to think of an appropriate word, "helper."

"I don't need one," said Marco quickly, as he spilled over his water. She rolled her eyes.

"Of course you don't," she replied sarcastically, immediately cleaning up the mess. "She's only going to go to school with you, Marco."

"And follow me around the entire day? I don't think so," Marco told her angrily.

"Marco, I'm not going to argue with you. She'll be here in a minute," said his mother, suggesting that he was to stop. He threw his hands up in the air quickly.

"Whatever," he muttered again, giving up.

The doorbell rang only a moment later, and Marco wasn't taking it well. "Right on time, I see."

"Be nice," warned his mother. "Anger doesn't suit you, Marco."

Marco ate his eggs quietly, not really interested in eating, but knowing that he had to do something to keep himself busy, he ate them.

"Marco, this is Cathy," said his mother, walking back into the kitchen. The only hint Marco had of there being another woman in the room was the fact that he'd heard heeled shoes scuffing the floor. His mother never wore heels.

"Hello, Marco," said the woman loudly. His mother was always cautious talking to him lately. This woman didn't seem to care, however.

"Hi," said Marco, being as polite as he felt necessary. It felt odd to be traveling around with a woman he didn't know. Besides, if she were to pull out a gun on him, he wouldn't even see it.

"My son is a little apprehensive about school--"

"I'm not apprehensive!" he defended, "I just don't want to go."

"That's fine," said Cathy. "I understand."

Marco tried to detect her emotions. It was always so easy to tell what his mother or father was feeling based on the tone of voice, but hers was kept so purposely neutral.

"Are you ready to go, Marco?" she asked. Marco could tell now that she sounded…excited.

"Not really, but I suppose I have no choice," he answered, grabbing his backpack from the chair next to him.

"That's the spirit," Cathy laughed. "Let's go, sweetheart." Sweetheart- a term of endearment. What was with this woman? Marco reminded himself that he had no logical reason to dislike her. He simply disliked the fact that he actually needed her.

"When we get to the school, you can help me," Marco suggested, knowing that he couldn't deny the fact that he did need her help, "but walking out of the house, to the car, and all that…I'm fine."

"Fine," she replied, still in that happy tone. It bothered him.

"Good luck, Marco," his mother wished him a good day, as he walked out the door with Cathy.

"My car is right in front of you," said Cathy, waiting for him to open the door.

He sighed. "Right in front of me? Where's the door?" he asked.

"Find it," she commanded. "You don't want my help."

Marco knew she had a good point. He didn't want her help, but still it was frustrating to have to search for the handle when she could just open it in a second. Finally, he found the handle, and pulled the door open.

Sitting down in the cold leather seat, Marco could feel the anticipation in his heart rising. His mother was right. He really was afraid.

"I need to ask you something," said Marco after he was sure they had started driving.

"Sure," said Cathy.

"What do you look like? Hair color? Eye color? I need to know these things," said Marco. He couldn't help but wonder.

"Well," she said, biting her lip, "I just bit my lip," she laughed. "Alright, I have blonde hair down to the top of my shoulders, bright green eyes…anything else?" she asked, still cheerful.

"Yeah," said Marco. "What do you know about this school I'm going to?"

"Well, I went to Degrassi. I loved it there. It became my home," she answered truthfully. "I know you'll like it too."

"Mhmm," his mother had told him the same thing.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" asked Cathy.

"Sure," said Marco, becoming quite curious.

"Considering I've worked with many blind people before, I've always wondered this, but never asked for fear of invading personal space, but I want you to know you can ask me anything, so I'd like to ask you this. What do you miss?" she asked.

Marco thought for a moment. Technically, he missed his friends and home, but he knew she was talking about what he missed seeing. What did he miss? He supposed he missed everything, really, especially meeting people. He'd always been quite a social person, and meeting people wasn't quite as enjoyable when you couldn't tell them apart from everyone else besides by their voices.

Finally, the true answer came to him. Even he was surprised by it. "Reading."

He could tell she was surprised as well. "Well, we could definitely teach you to read by Braille."

"It's not the same," he whispered, leaning his head on the window.
"I know," said Cathy. Then, the conversation was over because Marco wanted to enjoy the rest of the car ride, to his doom, in peace.
"Here we are," said Cathy, walking over to the other side of the car to help Marco walk find his way to the staircase leading up to the school doors.

Marco waited impatiently, trying not to seem too anxious. He took the arm she offered, and jumped out of the car. He held onto her arm tightly as she helped him up the stairs. Out of all the things Marco had to get used to, stairs were the scariest because he never knew when they were going to end. He counted them in his head, so that he wouldn't need her guidance the next time he climbed them.
"One more," said Cathy, only helping him slightly.
"Alright…now, doors?" he asked, pointing his finger in front of him. She took her head.

"Just move a bit to the right," she moved his pointed finger to the direction of the doors. He nodded.

"Move just straight," she conducted, letting him move on his own. She figured she could just guide him with as little contact as possible. He preferred that.
"Well, you're in the school now," she talked him through it. "Now, we're just going to have to go into the office to get your schedule, alright? Actually, I'll just go in. You can just stand right out here, right?" she asked, touching his shoulder.

"You're letting me?" he asked, shocked.

"Of course. Honey, there are no specific rules. This isn't my job. I'm doing this as a favor to your mother. Besides," she rolled her eyes, "it's so much quicker this way. We don't want you to be late," she laughed.

Marco smiled, for the first time since they moved there. "Okay," he let her walk into the office behind him. He had to admit that it was a little weird being left alone in a place he'd never been before. Okay, so she was right behind him in the office, but he hated hearing all the voices around him, seeing no one.

Suddenly, he felt someone's presence quite close to his face. He stood there for a moment, thinking it might have been Cathy coming out of the office.

"Helllo, you blind?" asked the boy, apparently waiting for him to move. "You're blocking the doorway," he said, annoyed.

"Sorry," Marco moved out of the way. He remembered he used to say things like that. The comment was such an off-hand thing that no one was bothered by it, but Marco understood now how horrible it was. People threw the words 'blind' and 'deaf' around so easily. Would he have said it if he knew Marco was blind?

"Yeah," the boy muttered, opening the office door. Marco heard it swing shut, and then open again.

"Marco," said Cathy, "would you like me to stay around you from now on?" Obviously she had heard what the boy said. "I will tell you from now on where you're blocking someone."

He shook his head. "I don't care. I'll block them if I want to."

Cathy sighed. For the first time that morning, her happy voice seemed to fade. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Truthfully, no," he said, grabbing her hand as they faced unfamiliar territory toward his first period room, "I don't want to be here. It's freaky."

"I understand," she said, "but not about being blind. It has to be difficult."

"You have no idea," said Marco, looking down at the ground. It felt more natural to be looking down. At least people could understand, if they didn't know he was blind, that while he was looking down, he couldn't see them.

"I don't understand. How am I going to read and such in class?" he asked, growing more apprehensive as they neared the room.

"The teachers know about your situation. For today, none of that will be necessary, since it's the first day. We are still trying to figure out something. No one is going to expect you to read a book or something in front of the class, Marco," she laughed. "Don't worry, okay? We're working on it. Eventually, though, you will be taught Braille."

"That'll take forever," Marco whined. He wasn't looking forward to this. He wanted now, more than ever, for it all to end.

"That's why I said eventually. Relax, Marco. When you do need to read, someone will be there to help you. Promise you won't stress?" she asked, always the calm one. Of course, she had no reason to stress.

"Sure," Marco replied. "Are you leaving me now?" They had arrived at the door of his English class.

"I suppose," she answered. Marco was surprised when she hugged him. Even his mother hadn't done that. "I'll be by to pick you up just a minute or two before the end of the period to take you to your next class."

Marco nodded. "I don't want to face them," he admitted, hearing all the voices and laughter of the students in the room.

"You'll be fine," said Cathy, practically pushing him into the room.

"Wait…do we have to tell them…I mean, in there, about my…"

"Blindness?" she finished for him. He nodded. "Well, Marco, I'm pretty sure Ms. Kwan told them. We thought it would be for the best," she said, almost regrettably. "Why?"
"Damnit," Marco cursed. He didn't want to be treated differently. "Well, Cathy, I'm just sick and tired of 'Don't crash. Don't fall. Be carefull.' I'm sure you understand…"

"Honey," Cathy put her hand on his shoulder again, smiling at him. The smile might have made him more secure if he could see it. "It'll be alright. Just walk in and don't draw attention to yourself."

Marco scoffed. "Right, like that's going to be easy."

Cathy left without another word, and Marco guided himself into the classroom slowly. He was surprised to hear none of the conversations stopped. They all simply carried on with their annoying chatter, but it pleased him. He wasn't the center of their attention. He was doing okay…until it happened.

Marco was gently pulling himself around Ms. Kwan's desk, (she determinedly let him walk himself for fear of embarrassing him) and he crashed. How was he to know the wall was going to be right next to her desk? Didn't normal people put their desks closer to the door or the center of the room? What was wrong with this teacher? Yes, he was angry with the defenseless teacher because her desk was too close to the wall for his liking. After his face hit the wall loudly, everyone's talking ceased. The silence was absolutely brutal. He kind of wanted to hit the wall again, hoping to block out the pain their eyes were causing him.

Their eyes. He couldn't see them. He didn't know what any of them looked like, but nonetheless, he knew all of those eyes were on him. He's been in the class no more than thirty seconds and he had managed to make a fool of himself.

He turned around slowly, refusing to let the crash ruin him, and began to walk to the back of the room. The first word was spoken.

"Just sit anywhere you like, Marco," said Ms. Kwan. He nodded, but didn't turn to face her. There was no way he was going to do something stupid again.

He brushed his hand by each chair to feel if there was someone there. No, he didn't rub his hands on them, but simply tapped for a split second, and moved on to the next. As he moved on in his trip to find a seat, it still remained silent. Finally, one student had mercy.

"You can sit by me," said a girl he had almost passed by. She pointed to the chair on the other side of her, forgetting he couldn't see it. He hadn't yet passed that chair. She shyly took his hand, leading him to the chair, trying as hard as she could to not make a big deal of it. Marco appreciated the manner in which she did it.

He sat down in the chair offered to him and smiled. "Thank you," he whispered, facing the front of the room.

She turned to him. "Not a problem," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Ellie…and," she withdrew her hand. "You don't even know it's there," she laughed. "Wow…I'm an idiot."
"I'm Marco," he said, assuming that she already knew.

"Cool," she said. The silence had finally worn off and people were beginning to converse a bit with their friends again. Marco sighed in relief.

"So, uh…where are you from?" she asked. With most people, it seemed they made conversation to try to stop worrying about his blindness or they felt bad for him. She seemed to really want to know. No friends, he reminded himself. He could answer her question.
"Italy."

"Really?" she asked. "That's really cool. You know English, though?"
"From birth, they taught me English and Italian. I don't really know why, but my family only spoke Italian around me as I got older, so that was my more common tongue."
"Wow," she said. Oddly, it interested her. "So, why did you move here?" she asked.
"Funny," said Marco, "I have to keep asking myself that same question."

A/N: So….what did you think? Please review!