My mind wandered back to the day I met Harvey.
He was a transfer student who had just joined our class. Apparently, he'd been studying abroad but returned with his parents when they moved back.
In a class where I usually sat alone, Harvey asked the teacher if he could sit next to me.
When we first met, he introduced himself with a big smile, "Hi, I'm Harvey Joslin. What's your name?"
Unused to such friendliness, I fumbled awkwardly, pulling out my notepad to scribble my response.
The room filled with stifled laughter.
"She can't talk! She's mute!" someone blurted out.
For a brief moment, Harvey looked stunned, even a little regretful. He scratched his head sheepishly, unsure of what to say.
A girl sitting in front of us turned around and added loudly, "Not just mute—she's a wicked mute. You sure you want to sit with her?"
I nervously twisted the paper with my name in my hand.
Harvey shot her a sharp glare before sitting down beside me. He grabbed the note from my hand, read i
