Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Alright class, there’s your new seating plan,” the teacher announced as groans filled the classroom. 

Jason glanced up at the whiteboard where the seating plan was projected. He skimmed through each box until he found the one with his name. ‘Not bad,’ he thought, slipping his binder into his bag; but something urged him to check again. Jason looked at the list and then froze. 

Another name was beside his.

His posture straightened and his shoulders tensed. Why is he sitting next to someone? It’s an uneven class — he’s always the one sitting alone on an island of desks. 

He wanted to speak up, but examining the other name made things make sense… [Reader]. They were the student who switched their courses and happened to join his class. 

Nibbling nervously on the edge of his thumbnail, Jason swallowed his words and approached his new desk. 

The spot wasn’t the worst. It was in the back right corner, where the sunlight landed nicely on the pair of desks in front of him. The sunlight allowed his corner to be draped in shadow. He sat down, propped his bag on the leg of the desk, and watched as the warm strip of light illuminated the wood; it did little to ease the twisting in his stomach. 

‘Stop being dramatic, Jason. It’s just a seat, you’re fine,’ he told himself mentally, as he felt bile rising in his throat. 

In the midst between stressing about this new arrangement and trying not to vomit, he hadn’t realized [Reader] was standing right beside him. They took their seat while Jason kept looking in the opposite direction. 

For better or for worse, the awkwardness wasn’t limited to only their table; the entire class had fallen silent with a tense atmosphere surrounding them. It was so dense that even the friend groups did not yell from one end of the class to the other. 

“Y’all can talk,” the teacher encouraged. “Break the ice a little bit.” 

Slowly, the class eased into hush murmurs.

“Hey.” 

Jason stiffened at the voice. 

Cautiously, he turned his head just enough so only the good side of his face was visible. He then simply waved before looking away again. 

“Um… I didn’t see you around last year. Are you new?” They asked, tilting their head see a little more of him. He tensed and shook his head.

“Oh, so how long have you been here then?” 

‘Why’re they still talking to me?’ He panicked. ‘Think of something to make them stop!’ 

He then pulled his legendary move: pretending to be mute.

Still half-facing them, Jason’s hands moved – pointing, swirling, and gesturing with a mix of both real and fake sign language. Surely, they wouldn’t understand and give up. 

When he finished, he turned away and let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. 

Everything was fine… until he felt taps on his shoulder.

He chose to ignore it, but the taps persisted. 

Suddenly, he whipped around with a scowl on his face – only for anxiety to strike him back just as quickly. 

[Reader’s] widened eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed to him, so he quickly spared their gaze by looking away again. He sank into his seat and bit his thumbnail. 

‘This is the first person who actually wants to talk to you. Why the hell are you being so damn rude?’ The more he thought about it, the more angry he was at himself – the bitterness followed with the tip of his thumb slipping between his teeth for a harder chomp.

“No, no! Was that actual sign language?” [Reader] asks, quickly. “Can I practice while I talk with you?”

It caught Jason completely off guard. 

Every word that they spoke was followed by the matching sign. Not only was it fast, but accurate too. Like they had been learning it for years. 

Panic flooded Jason’s brain. 

The truth was, he only knew how to sign the alphabet and a handful of basic words. Most people stopped talking to him long before they’d notice so he never bothered learning more. 

With sweaty palms, he awkwardly held up an ok sign with an uncomfortable smile. 

His smile faltered as a barrage of self-deprecation flooded his mind, while [Reader’s] voice and signs faded into the background.

‘Pay attention, Jason. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and listen. You fumbled so much already and-’

When they stopped, Jason’s heart leapt as he scrambled to put random words into motion. 

“Jason, stop throwing gang signs and speak.” The teacher said from the front of the class. 

Whatever courage he had left his body. His face burned with embarrassment as his eyes darted away. Finally, he forced himself to fully turn to [Reader].

“Um, hi…” he mumbled. “I’m not really mute… I don’t know BSL (Bacon Sign Language) that much.”

Only then did he really look at [Reader]. They were unique to say the least. Not in a bad way, he’d just never seen their style before. 

Their hair was half up in a bun while the rest fell on their back. It was a deep red colour but had more of a bacon texture than a chestnut. Their uniform is just as mixed as their hair, like they’d styled it in their own way while simultaneously not breaking their school’s strict uniform dress codes. 

Jason couldn’t pinpoint the right word for them. He found them beautiful? Handsome? Pretty? He didn’t know how to describe them, but he settled on one thought.

They’re gorgeous. 

“Oh, that’s ok.” They reply disappointedly before taking out their work. 

Jason did the same: take out the notebook, get his stationery, and work. But his mind couldn’t focus on the instructions. If anything, he moved on to a bigger realization that struck him. 

They didn’t mind him.

They hadn’t immediately started asking stupid questions about his face or considered he was mental. They didn't look at him with disgust or make weird comments about him either. 

They treated him normally.

He blinked at his paper. He wasn’t sure if they had already gotten background information on him from the other students – but the lack of questions still stuck with him. 

He felt happy… but also very confused. 

Maybe he was reading into this a bit too much, but he really appreciated [Reader’s] actions. Unfortunately, the knowledge that he was being a prick to them this entire time made his stomach sink. 

Suddenly, the bell rang and a flurry of motion erupted as everyone rushed out of the classroom. 

Jason grabbed his bag and followed suit to his next class. The entire interaction repeated like a broken record. Each replay made him cringe at how pathetic he acted. 

But one thought still lingered in his head…

They didn’t mind.

… They deserve an apology.