Silence Speaks Louder

Chapter by me. I forget who made me the banner... I'm sorry! I'm really glad you made it, though, so THANKS!



Much to Emilee's advantage, the ride back to her home, even in the car, was short-lived. She lived only about two blocks from the school, anyway, and if it hadn't been for the snow, there was no way she would have shared a car with Nick. Not under the newly arised circumstances.

The moment the car pulled into her driveway, she was out with a quiet "thank you". Nick opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but Emilee was too quick. She slammed the door with more force than necessary. Throughout the short ride, her anger had worsened.

Who was he to sign her up for the talent show without her permission? Especially afterreading stealing her lyrics, and better yet, adding onto thim. Her mind began to reel back to that time months before when Nick had first entered her classroom. Her expectations had been lifted, then slowly brought back down again. He was no better than her original expectations.

But there was still that voice in the back of her head that reminded her of the way he had acted that day in her bedroom. And following that, a voice reasoning that maybe his intentions were good. Maybe she was simply overreacting.

Her mother's car was gone from the driveway, and Emilee didn't turn as she saw Joe backing into the street from the corner of her eye. She simply slid her key in the slot on the front door, and turned it, making her way into the heated home. Emilee dropped her bookbag by the rug, simultaneously slipping off her shoes as she pushed the door closed behind her.

Running a hand through her hair, she embarked further into the home, down the hallway and into the kitchen where a bowl of fruit awaited her on an island in the center of the room. She made her way there without hesitation, reaching in the bowl and grabbing an apple.

Pulling out a stool from the table, she sat, taking a bite before bringing her right hand to rest on her forehead. It was just one of those days.

Abruptly, the phone in her pants pocket began to vibrate. She pulled it out, flipping it open to read a text from her mother. Texting was really the only way she could keep in touch with her mother when she wasn't home. She pressed open before reading what her mother had written.

From: Mom

Emilee, dear, I left the key to one of the drawers laying on the table by the front door. Could you bring it for me?

Emilee tilted her head to one side. It wasn't like her to forget things like that at home. She quickly pressed the reply button before typing her quick reply, taking another bite from the apple as she did so. Standing up, she walked back to the front door, donning her heavy winter coat and slipping her feet back into her boots. As she took yet another bite from the apple, her left hand reached for the single golden key laying near the edge of the wooden table where a vase full of flowers her mom had recently picked up sat.

She tiredly pulled open the door, stepping into the biting cold breeze. Locking the door behind her, she began on her way. It was just beginning to snow yet again, she realized, as the white fluffs made their way from the clouds overhead. Everything was so white. But of course, she didn't mind. White was, after all, her favorite color. She smiled to herself, suddenly craving gummy bears.

A car passed on the street, and Emilee caught the movement from the corner of her eye. She looked over at the silver mini-van, passing cautiously on the icy black road. The tires kicked up slushes of brown snow, which hit the white with a startling contrast. Emilee closed her eyes, trying to remember what the slosh of snow sounded like. She had no luck, however, and re-opened her eyes, hugging her coat tighter to her body, thankful that the library was only a few more blocks away.

As she took another bite of her cold apple, she suddenly found herself wishing she had made hot chocolate or coffee before she left the home. It would have been much more useful in this weather than the apple was in keeping her warm.

Suddenly, something hit her back. Emilee turned, startled, to see what the source was. The front yard of the home she had just passed was occupied by three kids, ranging from age six to twelve. The youngest's eyes had grown large as the other two giggled. "I'm sorry," she apologized, her bright pink mitten raising to wipe some of her golden curls from her face. Emilee simply smiled, turned, and began again in the direction that she had originally been going.

The snowflakes falling from the sky began to increase, and as they did, so did her pace. The last thing she needed was to get caught in a snowstorm, which had been predicted earlier that morning. Emilee sensed a snowday in her midst. But of course, saying that aloud would only jinx it.

As Emilee embarked further into the cold and her apple began to grow smaller and smaller, her body began to feel numb and the snowflakes increased even further. Before long, she could hardly see the buildings right in front of her. Emilee regretted choosing the winter coat without a hood. Surely her hair was white with the collected flakes in her hair.

Finally, the library came into view, and for that, Emilee was eternally grateful. She pulled open the heavy glass doors, stomping off her boots on the red rug and shaking out her hair before pulling open the second pair of glass doors.

The library was huge, a two-story building filled to the brim with endless books. Emilee loved this place, but hadn't found the time in her schedule recently to visit. She knew why, and this disturbed her. Shaking those thoughts from her mind, Emilee began further into the library. There was a desk in the front of the library, of course, but it was more informational than for actually checking out books. Her mother worked at the larger desk in the middle of the bottom floor, a study area surrounding the oak workspace her mother and multiple other librarians occupied.

Emilee began on her way towards the center of the large room, inhaling deeply as she did so. The pages of a good book always felt like home and she had never enjoyed anything quite as much. Besides playing her violin, of course. Still, there was something a book held for her that a violin, or anything else for that matter, ever would.

Emilee smiled as the large desk came into view. After walking past a cluster of inviting chairs and a few tables of workspace, she finally reached the counter where a young-looking brunette stood, flipping pages in an inventory book. She looked up at Emilee, taking in her appearance before asking, "May I help you?"

Of course, she couldn't hear the words herself, but Emilee imagined them said in a monotone. Her eyes, dead and bored, held all the interest of an underpaid college student. "I'm here to bring this," Emilee held up the key in her hand, "to my mother. Lynne Taylor."

A look of recognition passed over her face, and she held up a finger indicating she'd be right back. Emilee could see where she was headed, directly across from her in the confined area stood her mom, her blonde hair pulled up in a bun and her back to her. Emilee leaned agaist the desk, spinning the key in a circle as she waited for her mother, who appeared momentariliy.

"Thank you so much for bringing this for me. It unlocks the one drawer we use the most," she said with a smile, reaching out and taking the key from Emilee's hand. Emilee nodded in reply, shifting her weight from her left leg to her right. After her mother had tucked the key into her front pocket, her eyes shifted to her once again. "How's the weather out there? You look freezing."

She bit her lip before making her reply. "It's picking up. Looks like it's really going to storm." Emilee's mother nodded, pursing her lips. "Maybe you should stick around until I get off. I don't want you walking back in this."

Emilee shook her head. "It's not that bad, mom. Really. And I'm not even that far from home. Plus I have homework." She watched as her mother pursed her lips, her blue eyes setting on her. "You can do that later. You're not walking home in this and that's final."

Emilee opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She hadn't been to the library in a while, after all, and what she could always do her homework when she got home. "Fine," she sighed in defeat. Her mother smiled, reaching out and brushing her fingers through her daughter's hair with affection. "It'll be over before you know it," she winked before turning and heading off to where an angsty-looking teenage boy stood, impatiently awaiting help.

With a sigh, Emilee turned on her heel, inspecting the large room before her. Where would she start? She did, after all, need yet another new book for class. She was bored of fiction, it had been her subject of affection for a while, and Emilee suddenly knew exactly where she was going. She began making her way to the large staircase leading to the second floor, bounding up the steps quickly only to come face-to-face with a large oriental rug and more inviting chairs. She made her way past that and turned to the left. Before school started, Emilee had spent a fair amount of time at the library as her mother worked. It was crazy how into a book she could get, and after a while, she found that she knew where all the books were located as well as her mother.

Her eyes followed the signs reading multiple ways to find books, until finally, she found the row she needed. And then she began scanning over titles until the one she wanted popped out at her and she reached forward, grabbing the book by it's spine, and pulling it from the shelf. The book was thin, frail in it's use and age. Emilee let her eyes read the title once again. Night by Elie Wiesel. She smiled to herself, turning on her heel only to come to a complete stop.

There, three rows down, stood Nick Jonas in the flesh, pulling a large book from a shelf and scanning over the first page. Satisfied, he slammed it closed, tucked it beneath his arm, and began walking away from where Emilee stood, stunned. How did this boy always turn up everywhere? And even though Emilee knew how mad she was at him, how much she wished he weren't there, curiousity overtook her, and she began to power walk towards where he had been standing.

Looking first to her right, then to her left, Emilee sighed. She had absolutely no idea where he had went.

Who cares? she reminded herself mentally. She certainly shouldn't have. Angrier than she had been before, Emilee stalked off to where she knew another area of comfy chairs would be awaiting her. She reached it quickly, knowing exactly where she was headed, and scanned the area for the chair that looked the coziest. She found it easily, but there was one problem. It was occupied by the very person she wanted the most at that moment to slap, his curly hair falling into his eyes as he read the book he had just picked up.

On the table beside him sat a large stack of books, and once again, Emilee found curiousity getting the best of her. Without her permission, her feet began to make their way over to the chair on the other side of the table. She made sure to walk behind the large chairs, however, to take him by surprise and hopefully get a good look at what he was reading. It was to no avail, however. The spines of the books were facing the side of the chair she was about to sit in, and she couldn't see it from behind the table.

Slowly, she sat in the chair opposite of him. Nick, however, was too involved in whatever he was reading to realize anyone had sat down at all. Satisfied, Emilee looked over to the stack of books he had beside him, and her eyes widened.

Deaf in America: Voices from a Culture by Carol A Padden and Tom Humphries, Inside Deaf Culture by Carol A Padden, Talking Hands: What Sign Language Reveals About the Mind by Margalit Fox, Odyssey of Hearing Loss by Jamie Berke, Deaf Heritage by Jack Gannon.

What was this kid doing? Emilee leaned forward, catching the title of the book Nick held in his hands.

Through Deaf Eyes: A Photographic History of an American Community. Emilee snorted and Nick looked up abruptly. "You need pictures?" she teased.

Nick's eyes widened, obviously embarrassed. His cheeks began to turn a deep red color, and Emilee found herself enjoying it more than she probably should. She leaned back, watching with pleasure as he tried to find his words. "What are you doing here?" he finally asked. It had taken a while, he had stuttered alot and began forming other sentences before he finally spat out that final question. Emilee tilted her head to one side. "My mom's head librarian. She forgot a key," she replied.

Nick didn't respond, obviously too embarrassed to really do anything. Emilee took advantage of this. Nick Jonas, speechless for once. It was the simplest heaven. Reaching over to his stack, she grabbed the book atop the heap.

"Odyssey of Hearing Loss," she read aloud, making her voice sound deeper with authority. "Sounds serious," she declared, looking up at him and raising an eyebrow. He sat watching her with wide eyes. Emilee grinned. His neck was flushing red as well.

"What are you doing, Nick?" she asked, teasing aside, setting the book down gently beside her. Emilee waited patiently with her chin cupped in her hand as he tried to come up with a decent reply.

"I wanted to try to... understand you better," he finally managed to say. Emilee frowned. He was making it really hard for her to be mad at him. Especially with the sincerity she could plainly read in those brown eyes of his.

Emilee licked her lips. "Run out of questions for me?" she asked. Nick bit his lower lip. "The questions were bothering you. I could tell."

Emilee inhaled deeply, looking away from his eyes to focus on something else. She was having a hard time forming sentences when she knew he was watching her that way. She decided to change the subject, aware that it was probably better to bring up the earliest subject of her anger rather than avoid it. And anyway, it was better to bring it up when her anger was more... subsided.

"What were you doing with that piece of paper earlier? The one with my lyrics on it, I mean."

She looked back over to him, awaiting his answer. He was caught off gaurd. "It had fallen out of your binder as you went to put away your violin. I picked it up to give it back, the the words... I couldn't let the lyrics end that way. Something in me needed to..." he trailed off, lost in thought. "It was beautiful, to say the least," he concluded. Emilee found herself looking away once again. The voice in the back of her head had proven to be right. Maybe his intentions were good.

She looked back at him just in time to see words forming on his lips. "I really think you should finish writing it," Nick said, watching her intently.

Everything in her life was suddenly being questioned just because of this one boy who decided to forge a friendship with her. Everything was suddenly different and Emilee wasn't completely sure of who she was anymore. And she even surprised herself when she replied with the words she never thought she'd find herself saying.

"I will if you help me to."