A game of cat and mouse ensued immediately after the events of that day, featuring Logan as the cat and Jax as the mouse. The only difference was the amount of violence between the pair. Logan only wanted to talk to Jax, not murder him.
For nearly a week, Logan constantly attempted to get Jax's attention. The notes that skidded across Jax's desk either went unread or crumpled and tossed into the trash bin. His attempts at signing to Jax were answered with a simple turn of the other boy's head. They had just finished the group project for history as well, so he had no excuse to interact with the other boy.
Another attempt to explain the true situation to Jax went unnoticed, much to Logan's dismay.
"Dude," Harper said one day at lunch. "Why don't you, I don't know, stop trying? I mean, is he really worth it?"
Logan focused his gaze on a leaf that had blown to the roof. His hands balled into fists and his eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah," he said after a moment, though he was unsure of why. Harper was right. Jax hadn't exactly done anything to make Logan's attempts worthwhile, but Logan didn't want to give him up as a friend. It was hardly rational--no, it was completely illogical--but his heart didn't seem to care. It ached at the idea of never speaking to Jax again unless it was wholly necessary.
Harper frowned at his response. Riley swallowed her food and said, "I disagree. I mean, I know our only impression of him is the other day, but he doesn't seem like the best person."
"That's not what he's like," Logan pleaded. "He's really nice. He isn't bothered by the fact that I'm mute--"
"Debatable," Riley interjected.
Logan shot her a glare before continuing. "He's only mad because he thinks I lied to him. Which I sort of did. I just didn't want him to be mad that I don't trust him enough to talk to him."
"If you think he'd be mad about something like that, then Riley's point still stands," Harper pointed out oh so helpfully. Logan was rather unappreciative of his perspective because it made sense. He didn't want it to make sense, but, of course, Harper and Riley just had to be smart enough to forge a compelling argument.
Grumbling about this, Logan turned away and took a bite out of his sandwich. Of course, he spent the rest of lunch and all of band and chemistry running more ways to gather Jax's attention through his head. And, of course, by the time study hall rolled around, he still had no clue what to do. He was convinced he had tried everything. Of course, he hadn’t tried everything, everything, but he had tried enough. Logan was fresh out of ideas.
Kuro assigned them to read a few chapters of a book, so he decided to read those chapters. A few pages in, he noticed a word he didn’t recognise. He was able to discern a general meaning through the context clues, but he knew he would be annoyed if it came up again and he only knew the gist of the word. Pulling up google, he quickly typed in the word.
dem·a·gogue
[ˈdeməˌɡäɡ]
NOUN
a political leader who seeks support by appealing to the desires and prejudices of ordinary people rather than by using rational argument:
"a gifted demagogue with particular skill in manipulating the press”
Satisfied, he tucked his phone back into his pocket. As he opened his book once more, a thought suddenly occurred to him. Smiling a little to himself, he moved from his seat and went to the filing cabinets to grab a dictionary.
Jax’s math homework was suddenly covered by a large shadow. Before his brain could process what was happening, something fell onto his desk. A heavy book landed on his math paper with a loud thud, drawing a few stares from his classmates. “Wha—“
Just as quickly, a finger pointed to a word on the page.
Without so much as a glance upwards, Jax knew who the finger belonged to. “What does this have to do with anything?” He asked, thoroughly exasperated.
Logan tapped his finger on the page three times, drawing his attention to the word placed there. He tapped it twice more after Jax failed to read it, making it clear that he wouldn’t leave until Jax had done so.
Heaving out a sigh, he let his gaze drift to the ink just below Logan’s finger.
selective mutism
noun
: an anxiety disorder of childhood characterised by consistent failure to speak in specific social settings (as at school) despite having the ability to speak normally in other settings (as at home)
If your child talks a lot at home but clams up at school—not uttering a word or even a laugh—she may have selective mutism, an extreme manifestation of anxiety.
—Scholastic Parent and Child
called also elective mutism
He blinked once. Then again. And again. Suddenly, he pressed his left palm against his mouth, gripping his chin. I’m so stupid, he thought. Of course, he didn’t just lie to me. All his teachers—except Mrs Woods, but she seemed like an ass—believe that he’s mute. He wouldn’t be able to lie to them, would he? And he really did look sorry and it makes sense and I’m so fucking stupid.
He couldn’t bear to look Logan in the eyes. Frustrated with himself, Jax covered his eyes with the heels of his palms and let out a huff of air. He let himself stay like that for a few moments until he had calmed down and was no longer beating himself up internally. He sighed once more as he uncovered his eyes and glanced around. His gaze swept across the room, his eyebrows furrowing as he gradually became more befuddled. He could have sworn Logan had stood directly before him mere minutes ago. Now, the dictionary had disappeared from his desk, and the boy who set it there was nowhere in sight.
His concern only grew as the minutes ticked by, the hands on the clock inching closer to the time the bell always rang. Logan was still nowhere to be seen.
Jax thought back to the past few days. He remembered the way he’d been avoiding Logan, turning away or rubbing his eyes when the boy attempted to sign to him. He remembered the way he’d huff and walk away when Logan grabbed his arm. He'd been avoiding the boy at all costs, ignoring his notes as well. And he had just done both those things, hadn't he? He'd attempted to ignore him, then covered his eyes. Logan probably thought he was once again disregarding his attempts at reconciling with Jax.
He rang his fingers through his hair and directed his gaze towards the ceiling. Of course he'd gone and screwed it up again just as Logan finally succeeded in gaining his attention. With his luck, Logan would be absent from school for the rest of the week and Jax would be unable to apologise.
That won't happen, he reassured himself. As far as Jax could tell, Logan wasn't showing any signs of illness. Then again, maybe he shouldn't trust himself on that one. He had spent the last week avoiding the other boy at all costs. The only time they'd interacted at all was when Logan had slammed the dictionary onto his desk and forced him to read a section from it.
The bell rang only a few moments later. Jax packed his books into his bag as slowly as possible, hoping that Logan would come back before he could no longer justify his presence in Kuro's classroom.
He didn't.
Disappointed, Jax turned to leave. He received a raised eyebrow from Mr Kamatani as the teacher shoved his own supplies into his bag but was otherwise paid no mind.
He was glad about that. Nobody noticed the wet drops painting his cheeks with a subtle gloss. Nobody noticed the reddish outline his eyes now sported. It would have been embarrassing if someone had noticed. He made sure to wipe his eyes before he got in the car, despite being well aware that his face was still puffy and his eyes rimmed red.
"Rough day?" His mother asked the moment the passenger door closed.
Jax didn't respond. Wasn't it obvious?
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Finally, Jax broke down. The words tumbled out disorganised and cacophonous as he explained the situation to his mother between sobs. She listened patiently to his words, somehow comprehending the incoherent noises spewing from his lips.
Once he was done, she offered him the lightest smile she could. "Jax. Everybody has flaws. Everyone has moments where they hurt someone or do something that they come to regret. It’s how you respond to the aftermath that truly matters. You’re in a poor situation; you’ve been ignoring someone for a week and just found out that your reason for doing so was false. Now, you have to make a decision. Are you going to repair the friendship, even if it’s difficult, or will you leave it be?”
Jax hated when his mother got all cryptic, so he was pleased when she put her words in simple terms at the end of her speech. She was right. He could do nothing about the way he responded in the past. All he could hope for was a second chance, and he’d have to be the one to open that door.
Comments (1)
See all