TW // None
CW // Swearing
Logan Matthews was stuck wondering whether Mr Reynolds was psychic.
He had placed the new student next to him without even knowing if he knew sign, and, lo and behold, he did. The new student also happened to be pretty cute and chill about his muteness. To top it all off, he had agreed with the idea of their topic being about the LGBTQ+ community. That meant he was an ally at the very least, and fuck did Logan need someone to talk to.
Riley and Harper were great, sure. But they knew. And sometimes, it was hard talking to people who he knew constantly pitied him.
And of course, right at the start of the school year, everyone found out. Stupid required gym class. What a way to start the year. Everyone avoided him unless they knew him. Which they didn’t. He was the mute kid in a school full of assholes. Why would any of them make an effort to talk to him?
Alright, so he’d admit he wanted to befriend this boy. Maybe he wasn’t going in with the purest of intentions, but hey. The boy could probably use a friend. Mid-October transfer? Probably not going to make many friends right off the bat.
Maybe he was making too many assumptions. Hot guys attract a lot of people. By his standards, at least, Jax was pretty good-looking. Not that there was much competition at this school, to begin with. Boys and their mushroom-like haircuts. Mullets? Buzz cuts? Why people liked those hairstyles was a mystery to Logan.
Logan leaned back slightly, pulling out his phone. Only five minutes until the end of class. Most people on their phones were probably doing something unrelated to the project. Mr Reynolds didn’t care, and the entire class knew that. As long as their work was done on time and well, they could do whatever they wanted.
He wished his other teachers were like that. Mrs Woods, specifically. That woman would be much more appreciated and get more than two gifts from her students in the holidays if she was even an ounce like Mr Reynolds. In Logan’s opinion, at least. Not that his opinion was all that special.
He sat idly on his phone for a few minutes before the bell rang. Then, he made his way upstairs as inconspicuously as he could. Yeah, students weren’t allowed on the roof and a janitor’s roof key was now missing, but it was quiet up there. Everywhere else was loud. Besides, Riley and Harper were two people he felt comfortable enough to talk to. With words. Using his voice.
Selective mutism was weird like that. No matter how much he told himself to trust someone, if he didn’t trust them truly in his heart, he couldn’t talk to them. He could open and close his mouth like a goldfish all he wanted, but nothing would ever come out. It had taken him years to talk to Riley. Riley, Harper, and his siblings were the only people Logan ever spoke to. Sue him if he wanted to talk to them once in a while.
He made his way upstairs undetected. That was to be expected by this point, given that he had been doing this since the start of his sophomore year. He was now in his junior year. It had become something of a habit.
Riley and Harper were already there by the time he exited onto the roof. “Logan!” Riley shouted, flinging her arms around him.
Riley had short black hair that she kept in a ponytail that seemed too tiny to be real. Her skin was pale from what she called her gamer girl skills, AKA staying inside all the time to play on her computer.
Harper, on the other hand, looked a lot like Logan. Maybe, just maybe, that had something to do with the fact that they were cousins. His hair was a real strawberry blonde rather than black-bleached-blonde like Logan’s. And he kept it much shorter.
Logan grimaced at the way Riley's arms made him feel trapped. It had nothing to do with claustrophobia. Or maybe it did? Maybe not, since it wasn’t necessarily irrational with Logan’s experiences. Either way, it scared him. He gently pushed Riley away.
She gave him an understanding smile. He hated that look. Understanding. He had never thought of himself as being understood by others. At first, when he was young, he thought that everyone experienced what he did. He thought that he was just a baby about it and that other people endured it just the same. Then, in junior high, he had broken down and told someone how he felt. Harper. And Harper had told him that apparently no, that’s not normal, and he needed to get authorities involved. It was then he realised that most people didn’t understand. Most likely never would. It hurt him to realise that.
His mutism had started long before any of this, in early elementary school, hence why it had taken him so long to talk about it. Even as a toddler, he was never one of those nonchalant kids that said whatever was on their mind without thinking about the consequences. He always thought about consequences. Because they were always there.
He supposed, in a way, he should be thankful for the discipline. But he wasn’t. It had ruined him. It had changed him from who he was supposed to be, and Logan wasn’t sure there would ever be a way to get it back. His innocence, his pride, his everything. His life.
He didn’t want to think about heavy stuff when he was with friends. He brushed it to the back of his mind, letting its presence fade into near-nothing. That would have to do for now.
Harper grinned at him. “So. New kid. You’ve seen him, right?”
Riley gasped, finally moving away from Logan. “He’s not my type, but I certainly wouldn’t mind if he asked me out.”
Logan laughed and rolled his eyes. “Cut that out. It’s kind of creepy,” he said, playfully slapping her shoulder.
Riley shoved him back. “Hey, if you’d seen him, you’d agree!”
“I have seen him,” Logan said, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. Totally good-looking. I get to work on a group project with him.”
Riley gasped dramatically, falling to the floor in faux defeat. “How could I have a chance with you around?”
Harper smiled, leaning forwards. “Maybe he’s straight, babes.”
“At least an ally though,” Logan said quickly. “Our topic for the history project is LGBTQ+ rights, and he seemed pretty chill with it.”
Riley cheered, getting up from the ground and throwing her hands around Logan again, this time in a much looser hug. “Woohoo! More nice kids! Hey, d’ya think he’d be interested in joining the Gaymers discord server?”
Logan chucked. The Gaymers discord server was the server Riley had created in hopes of finding more gay gamers. It was small at first, but it was steadily growing. And of course, Riley was always looking for more people she could talk to in real life to join. Online friends were great and all, but in the end, it was all online. The times her parents forced her to log off of her console, she was all alone.
“Calm down, Riley,” Harper said, moving towards them. “We don’t even know if he’s gay.” He turned to Logan. “So. Gaydar pinging?”
Logan grinned. “Ever-so-slightly. He knows sign, though, so I can actually get to know him. And he doesn’t seem bothered that I’m mute.”
Riley threw her arms around Logan again and squealed. Jeez, she was quite the hugger that day. “Logaaaaan! That’s great!”
Logan’s smile deepened. “Yeah. Kind of hoping to befriend him, but we’ll see how that goes.”
Harper elbowed him in the ribs, smirking. “Hey. Hot guys, hot friends. Introduce us some time.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “If you guys don’t mind, I’d like to eat today,” he said, sitting down, feigning annoyance.
Harper grinned. “Yes sir,” he said, sitting down next to Logan. Riley laughed and joined them on the floor, pulling her own lunch out of her bag. She bit into her sandwich, tearing a chunk away. “So,” she said, giggling. “Tell us about your recent endeavours in escaping the evil Mrs Woods.”
And he did, doing a horrible impression of Mrs Woods between swallows and bites of his lunch. They laughed like that for the rest of lunch before Logan’s alarm went off, signalling them that lunch was two minutes from being over.
“Well,” Harper said, standing. “We’d better head back in. Looking forward to music class, Logan?”
“You bet,” Logan replied, strumming the strings on his beloved air guitar. “You’re not ready to hear my awesome new riffs,” he joked. They both knew Logan would be too embarrassed to play the guitar in front of the class. But they joked nevertheless, because what were friends for if not to make you laugh?
Riley left them at the door to the roof, heading in the opposite direction to her science class. Logan and Harper walked down the empty halls to the music room, the first bell ringing halfway through their journey.
“Better hurry it up, ya slowpoke,” Harper said as students started filing into the halls. Logan walked a little faster, not wanting to be surrounded by people. Together, Logan and Harper swam through the sea of students before reaching their destination.
Harper glanced at Logan. “Are ya ready, big guy? Gonna go learn how to play songs you already know?”
“You bet,” Logan signed.
The teacher, Mr Woodbury, greeted them by name as they walked in. “Logan, Harper. Good to see you,” he said, smiling. “Got anything special to play for us today?”
“Not today, teach,” Harper responded, peering around the room. “Say, is that a new guitar?”
Mr Woodbury brightened. “Yep! Came in this morning. Nobody’s used it yet, besides when I tuned it. Wanna give it a spin?”
Logan grinned and picked up the instrument. The weight felt familiar in his hands. Comfortable. He moved his fingers deftly against the strings, playing the beginning of an acoustic guitar rendition of Anos Dourados. Harper grinned as he watched his cousin play.
Noticing with a start the two people staring at him, Logan gently set the guitar down. “It’s nice. Feels great to use.”
Mr Woodbury nodded. “Thanks for the feedback. You sure you don’t want to share anything?”
Logan nodded in affirmation, glancing back at Harper as he went to his band locker. He unlocked it easily, taking his saxophone out and shutting the door.
He shuffled back into the classroom. By then, more students had trickled through the door and were heading to their lockers to grab their own instruments. It still took a good five minutes for everyone to settle into their respective places, but that was nearly record time for them.
Mr Woodbury flashed them a grin. “Alright, then. Trumpets, why don’t you—“
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