I'll Be Here For You novel Chapter 6

Then I remembered what Mae said. Talking wasn't easy for him. I guess it would be if he had to physically teach his ears how to hear things instead of just noise. Filtering noise came easily to me, but I didn't teach it to myself, I just sort of picked it up. I couldn't imagine having to actually learn how to hear and distinguish sound.

I didn't know what to reply with. I knew that I had to. If he took the effort to write me something in braille, then I was going to respond. In my defense, it was a difficult question. My broken face was probably better off than my broken heart, and that was saying a lot.

But I couldn't say that to him. Why would I just lay down all my burdens on a complete stranger? So instead I replied with the usual. The perfect reply for hiding what you truly meant while avoiding any further questions about it. I tore out a small piece of paper from my notebook, and punched holes into the paper, writing it out.

I'm fine. Thanks for asking.

That was it.

I folded up the piece of paper in half and then held my right hand over the side of my desk. I didn't know where he was sitting, so I hoped that he would notice that I was trying to reply to him. After quite a bit of time had passed, I was about to close my fist and give up, when I felt someone's fingers brushing mine. Quickly, I opened my palm to reveal the note, and it was suddenly gone, now in the hands of Alex, or maybe one of my other classmates.

I tapped my foot beneath my desk as I waited for a reply with a small smirk on my face. All my thoughts about my previously shitty day disappeared as I waited. I had to admit, it was sort of thrilling that I was passing notes in class. It was against the class rules, and I wasn't one to typically break those. It was just too easy to get caught when you couldn't see if the teacher was watching the entire interaction.

Another soft thud signaled his response. I nearly lunged for the piece of paper, unable to control the anticipation any longer. I quickly unfolded it, my hands skimming over the bumps on the paper as I read it fast.

Are you sure?

I frowned. What sort of response was that?

And then I realized he had a point.

I wasn't fine. I had been picked on the entire day, bullied more than I had today than this past week. I had never broken down at school since freshmen year, when I wasn't strong enough to handle it. Things had just kept coming one after the other, and as soon as I was offered the tiniest shred of happiness, Cora stole it from me by punching me in the face and breaking my walking stick.

I debated telling him that I wasn't sure I was fine. I wanted to just say no. It was my last day at this school anyways, after today he would never see my face again. What did he care if I was honest for a second?

And yet, as my pencil hovered over the paper, I chickened out.

Yep. I'm more worried about the condition of Wanda the walking stick.

I held my hand out and the paper was scooped up from my hands like last time. I waited for another piece of paper but none came. I sat back in my seat, twirling my pencil in between my thumb and my forefinger, bored out of my mind now that we're done with passing notes.

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