Chapter 3

# Chapter Three: Gavin Hawkins was an Asshole The first hours of school went on smoothly until literature, when the teacher talked about the bullying she had suffered back in school. It made me remember when I was younger. I had been a shy and quiet kid, but my mutism had made me an easy target for bullies. They called me "silent treatment" and said I was "ignoring" them, even when I was trying my best to communicate. They pushed me around, tripped me in the hallways, and even stole my lunch money. This was college, and so much had changed. Some people had realized it was a disorder and not my doing; only Emilia had changed. I shook my head, trying to get those thoughts off my mind. "Are you okay, Miss Spencer?" The literature teacher, Miss Beth, had inquired, her face contorting in worry. It warmed my heart that she cared about me. Only a few people cared about me. Before I could gesture that I was fine, someone beat me to it. I didn't know who in a class of a hundred students. I only detected that it was a male voice: "Maybe she has Tourette Syndrome. It wouldn't surprise me that she is a walking disorder." The class had laughed in unison. It wasn't even funny. "You should be ashamed of yourself for bullying someone like her. Billie Eilish has Tourette too. Would you think of her any less?" I had been fine with Beth talking until she said "someone like her." I hated people thinking of me only as a disorder. Although I needed them to acknowledge that I was different and needed more patience, I didn't like being thought of as broken or defective, as my uncle loved to call it. The class grew quiet at Miss Beth's scolding. I sent her a polite smile, and she smiled back at me. This made me happy. I thought I might like this woman. In the next class, it was mathematics—my favorite course, as it involved less talking. I could just solve my way through the day without having to explain anything. That year, we were getting a new teacher from New York. I hoped he would be better than the last one, who kept sleeping in class. Suddenly, my phone began to ring. I reached into my pocket to answer when someone bumped into me, and it fell to the ground. My heart shattered along with the screen of my phone; I had been using it for two years now. I still needed it until I could work enough to pay for another. "I am so sorry," he said softly, picking up the phone. Our eyes met, and I was stunned by how good-looking he was up close. My heart raced at the thought of kissing him. My brown eyes locked onto his, and I couldn't help but notice the striking sectoral heterochromia - his eyes were a mesmerizing mix of green and hazel. His wavy, thick, dark blonde hair was so enticing that I desperately wanted to ruffle it. I couldn't react to him. I only gawked. Gavin awkwardly smiled at me, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Miss, do you want a new one instead of an apology or a date?" He winked at me. Again, I could not gesture back anything. I was frozen. Was he flirting with me? "Tell me, beautiful." He offered me a smile, which made my insides go mushy. Gavin Hawkins just called me beautiful. I couldn't help but look over to his arm at the ink peeking from underneath the sleeves of his shirt. He licked his lips seductively, his eyes lingering on my face. "I am waiting for your answer, gorgeous." My cheeks burned redder at his compliment. Wren was the only one who had called me sweet names.Except for Austin, my last boyfriend, who I found out only wanted to sleep with me because of a dumb bet to find out if I was still a virgin. Was Gavin Hawkins a part of the bet too? No, no. It couldn't be. He was only teasing me. Gavin Hawkins was the tattooed bad boy in our school, known for using girls like tissues and never being in a serious relationship in his life. His longest relationship had happened to be only a month old. He would not include himself in a bet when he could have anyone. He dated Emilia, after all. "Miss??" He waved his hand, his voice growing hard with each passing moment. "Don't waste your breath on her. She can't hear or talk to you. The girl is dumb and deaf." Someone from the hallway stopped and told him. He looked familiar; we probably shared a class together. He looked at me in pity, then smiled at Gavin. Stupid. "Bless your heart" He murmured to me. Bless your heart! "Oh," Gavin Hawkins muttered. I hoped to hear disappointment in his voice, but I didn't. Instead, he took my hand and put a wad of cash into it. He offered a tiny smile, saying slowly and loudly, "I am sorry about your phone." And like that, Gavin was gone. He thought I was dead and dumb. This was the end game for me. Tears filled my eyes, and I tossed the cash into my bag and headed to class. As I stepped into class, everyone stood up and gave me a standing ovation. I stared in confusion, wondering what I did to deserve it. Was it because I had all A's and B's last semester? It couldn't be, could it? No. I was being ridiculous, but I enjoyed the moment, hoping this was not one of those stupid Emilia plans. I searched for her in the pool of faces and didn’t find her, despite doing the same major. She was never in class but managed to get good grades for the next class. "Congratulations!!" The whole class announced, lifting up a banner with it on it. My face lit up at the banner. Was it all because of last year? Did I get another scholarship? I raised my hand to gesture a "thank you," when a deep voice murmured behind me, "Thank you." I almost jumped out of my skin at the voice. Gavin Hawkins stood behind me, watching me with a curiosity I couldn't decipher. His eyes lingered on my face, then he marched off to his seat. Red crept onto my cheeks for thinking the poster was for me. I was silly. I searched the class for a seat, but none were available. A man in a grey suit, presumably the math teacher, walked in. He was a leen man with brown hair. "Everyone take your seats," he announced without sparing the class a glance. "You, why are you standing? Take a seat!" He turned and pointed toward me, my stomach clenching at the cold sound of his voice. I hoped he was only having a bad day. I gestured, <<I don't have a seat.>> His face was etched with confusion and frustration. The teacher pointed at the door. "Use the door, bitch, or take a fucking seat." Gasps rippled through the air at his use of profanity. And calling me a bitch. I hated that name the most. It was an appellation my uncle used to refer to his side chicks. I didn't want to be anyone's side chick. Once again, I tried to gesture to him that I couldn't find a seat because there were none. He did not understand sign language, so he only got angrier. His nose flared, and he yelled, "Get out of my class! Are you dumb?" I heard giggles reverberate in the class. My eyes searched for Gavin to see if he was laughing too. I was pleased to find he was not. He had a blank expression. Our eyes crashed, and he looked away. It felt like I had been shot with a bullet. Gavin got up from his seat and walked toward me, announcing, "She can have mine." He scrunched his nose as he ambled past me. With that, he left the room, looking as if I made him uncomfortable. I was beautiful enough to flirt with, but the second he found out about my disorder, he couldn't look my way. My eyes began to get blurry as I made my way up to the tiny steps that led to his seat. I wiped it before sitting, as if it would take his scent away from it. My head reeled back to the look on his face. Was it disgust or pity? I couldn't tell. Soon, the teacher, who introduced himself as Paulo Smith, began teaching. As much as I tried to focus on the equations on the board, I couldn't help but think about how Gavin had scrunched his nose at me. This was what I feared; just like the others, Gavin saw only my disability. Lesson of the day learned: Gavin Hawkins was an asshole.