Love Beyond Words

Chapter 4

I looked over at Mike, and he looked even less enthusiastic to have me as a partner than usual. For a moment he looked dumbfounded, trying to process the news, but then eventually his gaze turned towards me.

If looks could kill, that would have been the end of my terrible day....

Mike looked really, really mad about being partnered with me. I mean, I understood why, but at the same time, I didn't. I mean, yea, I was totally a liability when public speaking was in the cards. But it wasn't like Mike was a straight-A student. I'd seen his own presentations, and they weren't exactly much better than mine, and he could talk!

So why was he so upset?

"Alright class, get together with your partner, and I'll come around and give each of you your assigned topic to present on," Mr. Henry said after he finished matching up the last of the students.

I slowly rose to my feet, ore than a little nervous about walking over to Mike. Before I even had a chance, though, he was up and out of his chair and storming over to Mr. Henry's desk.

"Mr. Henry, I need a different partner," he demanded.

"Oh, and why is that?" the older man asked with a bemused smile on his face.

"I need to do well on this presentation to maintain my eligibility," Mike explained.

So that was why he cared so much..,,

"Well, Hannah is a very capable young woman. I'm sure the two of you will do just fine if you apply yourselves," Mr. Henry said calmly.

"'Capable young woman!?'" Mike repeated back in disbelief, "She can't even talk!"

Mr. Henry's expression hardened.

"Mr. Hanson, I will tolerate quite a bit, but disparaging your classmates is not one of those things. We're all well aware that Ms. Kennedy struggles with a disability, but she is otherwise a very intelligent young lady. If the two of you apply yourselves and use a little creativity, I'm sure you'll be able to give us an excellent presentation on the legislative branch of government."

Mike seemed ready to argue more, but he seemed to think better of it. Mr. Henry may have been a jolly, kindly old man, but when he got that look on his face and started breaking out last names, you knew you were on thin ice.

Instead, Mike stormed back over to his desk.

I wasn't sure what to do next, but Mr. Henry seemed to be one step ahead of me. He walked over to me, his expression softening straight away.

"It might be best if you give him a moment to cool down," the man said softly, "I'd recommend taking a seat and beginning to research your assigned topic and mulling over how to handle the presentation."

I nodded, not feeling like trying to spit out a verbal answer, and went back to my desk to do just that. That is, I at least planned to do that. It was kind of hard to focus on studying when a man who could snap me in half like a twig was staring daggers through me fro across the room...

A part of me wanted to walk over and try to clear the air between us, but I didn't know what I could possibly say, much less whether I'd actually be able to say it. My stutter always got worse when I was nervous or upset, and with the way my heart was pounding I doubted I'd be able to string together anything coherent before the man got fed up and chucked me through a window or something.

In the end, Mike ended up taking the initiative for me. He got of from his desk and walked across the class towards me. I was more-than-a-little tempted to try to crawl under my desk and hide, though it was pretty obvious that wouldn't exactly have worked.

The man grabbed the desk nearest me and yanked it over, sitting down beside me. His eyes never left me as he did, maintaining that same intensity the whole while. My heart went from pounding in my chest to getting ready to break right out of it. If I dropped dead from a heart attack in that moment, it wouldn't have surprised me.

Then his expression softened, if ever-so-slightly.

"f**k Hannah, stop looking like I'm going to hit you," the man said with clear irritation in his voice, "I'm not a f*****g monster you know. I'm not going to hit a girl, especially not a mentally handicapped one."

I was both relieved and a bit annoyed at the same time. With the way he was looking at me, there was a part of me that had feared he might do something rash, and his reassurance that he wouldn't did help alleviate that a bit. Still, as I said before, if there was one insult that really hurt it was being called stupid.

"I...I...I'm nod handi....hand.... stupid," I managed to get out.

"Look, I know it's not your f*****g fault, but you can barely string together three f*****g words," Mike replied, shaking his head.

Feeling frustrated, I reached into my backpack and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil.

"Mike," I wrote on the note, "I know I'm really bad at talking. But my brain works just fine!"

I slid the note over to the man. He looked down at it, and for a moment he looked like it was written in some foreign language. In that moment, I realized that Mike has probably never seriously considered the possibility that I wasn't actually mentally handicapped,

"Fine, whatever," he said, crumpling the paper in frustration, "So how the hell are we going to get through this presentation when you still can barely string together a sentence!?"

I wished I had an answer for him. Presentations were never my highest grades for obvious reasons. Sometimes I'd do okay if my powerpoint was really good and the teacher took sympathy on me. We couldn't count on the latter though.

I frowned and shrugged, trying to non-verbally communicate that I was at a loss,

"Well we need to f*****g figure it out," he said, his gaze intensifying again, "We're going to have to get together to work on this outside of school. I've got a game tonight, but you free tomorrow?"

I nodded.

"Good. We meeting at your place or mine?" he asked.

I thought about it for a moment, and decided I'd feel more comfortable if I felt like I had the "home field advantage." Dad would probably be home besides, and I'd be grateful for his backup if Mike got angry.

"M....m.... mine?" I stuttered out.

"Fine. Where do you live?" he asked.

I pulled back the paper and scribbled my address on it before passing it back.

"Okay," he said, taking the paper and shoving it in his pocket, "About noon work for you?"

I nodded."Good, then I'll see you tomorrow," he said, his tone making it clear the discussion was over.

He pushed the desk back and stood up, walking away and leaving me alone. That was when it really began to dawn on me that I was going to have to spend the weekend with a guy who, quite frankly, scared me. I was a little excited too, and a part of me was curious what it would be like. It was my first time hanging out with somebody outside of school since Melvin and I fell out. It wasn't exactly a social visit, but still, it was a big deal for me.

But mostly, I was terrified.

Mike had made it clear he didn't care for me, and I had a hard time believing that spending an afternoon in close quarters with me would improve his opinion. And if he got mad...

My imagination was a bit too vivid, and I quickly found myself imagining scenarios where he ended up getting so frustrated with me that he beat me senseless. It was a silly worry, I knew. I'm not going to say Mike had a sterling reputation with how he treated girls, but he'd never actually been violent. The most he did was be a jerk, and while that sucked, it wasn't a death sentence.

Still, that didn't mean he wouldn't snap. Sports meant the world to him, and if his eligibility really was on the line, well, he was bound to be on edge...