A/N: New Chapter. Yay! There is something completely wrong with the spacing! If someone knows what to do…help.
"Marco," said Cathy, as he made his way slowly to the doorway, "I'm here to take you to uh…media immersion."
"Oh," Ellie said, coming up behind him. "Well, if you wanted, I could take him there. I mean, I'm going to the same place."
Cathy and Ellie were talking about him as though he wasn't there, which embarrassed him more than anything. He wasn't a child, and he didn't care who took him to his next class as long as he got there.
"Is that okay with you, Marco?" asked Cathy, letting him have his own opinion in the matter.
"Sure," he answered, reaching his hand out for Ellie to take it. She did so tightly.
"Alright, if you need me, you can call me, okay?" asked Cathy, and he felt her lips on his cheek. Marco nodded.
"Ready to go?" asked Ellie, moving him into the hallway. "I suppose I didn't give you too much time to answer," she laughed.
"No one ever does," Marco said, laughing as well. "What, exactly, is media immersion?" he asked. "Ow," he commented as someone pushed past him.
"Sorry about that," said Ellie, trying to keep him away from more students in the crowded hallway. "Media immersion is…like…computers? No other way to explain it. Simpson's a good teacher; you'll like him."
"If you say so," he stayed quiet through the rest of the trip down the hall. It was too complicated to talk and avoid colliding at the same time.
Marco was still slightly confused in getting around the hallways. He knew Ellie was good at helping him, but he still got an ominous feeling in every step he took. He was so happy when Ellie told him that he was almost there, saying to himself he was getting better when someone crashed right into him.
"Why?" was the only word he could think of to say, as he was on the cold tile floor, angry that he had fallen. He wasn't sure whom to blame, though. His attacker, or himself for not seeing him coming.
"I am so sorry," said the attacker in a deep voice, holding out his hand for Marco to grab. He waited for Marco to take it, laughed, and backed up so Marco could hoist himself up. Marco didn't see the boy's offered hand, but he was simply glad that the boy had gotten up.
"I really am sorry," he repeated. Marco had yet to answer. He waved it off.
"It's fine," said Marco, smoothing his jeans subconsciously.
"You sure?" asked the boy, sounding anxious. "Because you seem pretty pissed off," he laughed.
Ellie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, he's fine, Michalchuk. Aren't you going to be late?"
Dylan shrugged, picking up the books he dropped, and moved in the other direction. He called over his shoulder, "You should know better, Nash. I never go to class."
Ellie laughed. "Come on, Marco," she pushed him carefully into the room. "I'm sorry about that. I should have warned you. I just sorta fo--"
"Please," Marco interrupted, "don't be sorry for that. I like when people don't warn me," he explained.
"Here's a seat," she pulled his hand to the back of an empty chair. "You like crashing into walls and people?" she asked, amused.
Marco laughed. "Well," he ran his left hand through his hair, thinking of the best way to make her understand, "I don't particularly enjoy it, but I hate when people are like fanatic about the warnings. Marco can't get himself around! You know what I mean?" he asked, wondering if his point had been made.
"Completely," said Ellie. "No more warnings. However," she turned to her new friend with a smile, "if you're about to fall down a huge flight of stairs, then can I warn you?"
"Definitely," he replied. "I'm terrified of stairs."
"Cool," she laughed.
"Alright, everyone. That was the bell. First day of school…"
"So, it's seventh period," said Ellie, as she watched him put his books in his locker. "You've made it almost through your first day at Degrassi. Do you like it here?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Truthfully," said Marco, closing the locker door, "I want to go home."
Ellie nodded sympathetically. "I understand," she said, taking his hand. He was getting rather used to this handholding. At the beginning of the day, he was so concerned that people were going to be making comments about the two of them, but since most of the people in their grade knew he was blind, it didn't really matter. What the older and younger kids thought, he honestly couldn't care anymore. Ellie helped him. Ellie tried to understand him. He liked Ellie. Most importantly, when he said he didn't want her to help him with something, she didn't insist; she let it go.
"We're off to lunch, which is pretty much the highlight of my day," said Ellie, walking into the cafeteria. "You going to sit with me?" she asked.
"No," said Marco, smiling. "Let me just go find some of the other friends I met," he laughed. "If you'll have me there, of course."
Ellie playfully swatted his arm. "Hey!" Marco exclaimed. "That's an unfair advantage. You can't hit a blind guy."
Ellie and Marco walked together to a table practically in the center of the entire lunchroom. Ellie pulled on his hand, motioning stop, and suggested he sit down.
"Marco," said Ellie, "I'd like you to meet Ashley Kerwin," she pointed over at Ashley, who waved.
"Well, that does him a lot of good," said Hazel, laughing. "Say 'hi', Ash."
"Right. Hi, Marco," she said, uncomfortable. "Sorry. It's just, we have to get used to your…uh…blindness."
"That's fine," answered Marco, explaining that he understood her worry. "I still need to get used to it myself," he smiled, still lowering himself into the chair.
"Well, anyway," continued Ellie, "this is Jimmy Brooks, Hazel Aden, Spinner Mason and…" she paused for dramatic effect, "my best friend in the whole word, Paige Micalchuk."
Paige smirked. "Funny, Eleanor. Hi, Marco. It's nice to officially meet you."
"You too," said Marco, being polite. "Wait, Ellie," he said, confused, "Isn't that…are you related to that boy I banged into today?" he asked Paige, slightly wondering whether or not he was even looking in her direction.
"Oh my gosh!" she yelled. "You're the boy Dylan knocked into this morning!" she exclaimed, laughing.
"Wow, Paige," said Spinner, touching her shoulder. "Don't get so excited."
"Shush," she said, pushing him away. "That's so funny! I can't believe you're the boy he was talking about all morning."
Marco followed the sound of her voice, now directly facing her. "How much could he have possibly said? We crashed, he apologized, and he walked away."
"Well, nothing," said Paige. Ashley sighed.
"Paige, what did he say?" she asked, quite curious.
"Well, I don't want to make Marco feel weird because of this, but he said that he thinks you're really cute," she laughed.
"Oh," said Marco, trying to appear unaffected. It didn't really bother him that Paige's brother thought he was cute. No, absolutely not. In fact, the thought was rather flattering. What bothered him was he could never same the same about him because he had never seen Dylan and he never would.
"Sorry," said Paige, and Marco could tell she was smiling. "You don't have a problem with gays, do you?" she asked suspiciously.
"No, of course not!" Too quick. "I mean," he started again, "no, I don't. If he's gay, that's okay."
"Good," she said softly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a little meeting with Mr. Armstrong to attend."
Marco felt the table move slightly as she got up from her seat. The others said good-bye to her, and Marco kind of wished she had stayed. He just wanted to know a little bit about Dylan…just a bit.
"Marco," said Ellie, breaking him out of his little daydream, "you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, honest as possible, opening the Snapple and taking a long sip.
"So, Marco," started Hazel, feeling the need to converse with him, "what do you like to do?" she asked, probably for lack of something more interesting to ask.
"Well, I used to like to read and write, but that doesn't really work anymore. I like to listen to music," he said, trying to make her feel the least awkwardness possible.
"Cool, me too." The others were either too afraid or uninterested in talking any longer than needed to the new boy, so Hazel eventually gave up and went on with her previous talking. Ellie tapped his shoulder as if to say, 'You're doing well.'
"So, how was your first day?" asked Cathy on the ride home.
Marco shrugged. "Fine, I guess. You're not upset that I sort of ditched you, are you?" he asked. He had been concerned about that towards the end of the day.
"No, honey," she said, ashamed that he would even think that. "I'm glad you found a friend."
Marco rolled his eyes. "She's not my friend. She's just a girl," he answered, not sure what else to replace 'friend' with. He liked Ellie, but he wouldn't refer to her as his friend. He was quite stubborn that way.
"Mhmm," she laughed knowingly. "Of course."
"Whatever," said Marco. He wasn't even going to bother to explain it to her. She'd probably start talking about how Ellie was his girlfriend or something. Please.
"Well, here we are," she said cheerfully. "You don't want my help to walk up your driveway, I suppose?" He nodded. "I'll be here tomorrow, same time, alright?"
"Bye," he closed the door.
Marco waited until he heard her car roll down the street before he attempted to make his way into the house. The last thing he needed was for her to see him fall flat on his face. He managed to make it up to the porch without anything terrible happening (even up the stairs)! It was a big improvement and, for that, he was proud of himself.
He opened the front door to find that his mother was in the living room watching television. She heard the door close.
"Marco!" she called out immediately.
"Hey, ma," he said, accepting her hug.
"How was your day?" she asked, way too excited for his taste. He laughed at the enthusiasm.
"Better than expected," he replied, "but still not good," he added, for he didn't want her thinking he might not want a chance to go back home.
"Well, I'm glad you're not miserable, at least," she sighed. "I'm making dinner. I will call you when it's ready." His mother kissed his cheek, and sent him down the hallway to his room.
Marco felt his way down the relatively familiar path to his bedroom, sighing as he lay upon the bed he had missed so much during the long day of constant walking.
He had barely been down for a moment when the doorbell rang. Stupid doorbell. It was affecting his resting time. It didn't matter much, anyway. His mother would simply get it and the person would walk away satisfied.
"Marco," came a knock on his door. "Marco, there's a boy at the door for you. I think his name is Dylan…he says he has something of yours."
A/N: Review, please. Oh, no. I am getting sick!