note (april 2020) no i will probably not continue on the rewrite, i do not really ship larry anymore and the story is just at this point kind of offensive and overdone for me at this point. but (!!!) i may at some point have some passion for this book again...so if you are a fan, because i MAY at some point continue on with the rewrite (and probably rewrite the rewrite...lol) but at this very moment i'm not going to actively work on it. love you guys and again...thank you so much for the support.
Hearing the soft, squeaky murmur of The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet falling from Penny Geronimo's mouth should have made Louis want to stuff a large, sweaty sock down her throat. Everyone else in the class were ready to do exactly that, except a lot more heinously than Louis could. Instead, Louis sat back in his seat and fluttered his eyelids, envisioning every little image Shakespeare put through his mind. Personally, Louis didn't like The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, because it was too unrealistic and dramatic for his tastes. Shakespeare, though, was still an amazing writer who could use imagery to the complete maximum. When Louis read something by the phenomenal playwright, he could play out every scene in his mind, like he was watching a movie. So even though Penny Geronimo's voice sounded like nails scratching down a chalkboard, Louis didn't mind it. The images still flashed inside of his mind like they did when he read, or someone else did.
Louis was 'watching' Romeo talk to Juliet at the party when Mr. Langston suddenly interrupted his daydream. Louis looked up at him, furrowing his eyebrows as everyone giggled. He was confused as to why they were laughing at him this time.
"Ah, Mr. Tomlinson. I see you have finally decided to join us," Mr. Langston said, smirking afterwards. A blush invaded Louis' face as the class laughed harder and louder. Louis looked down at his lap, too embarrassed to even show his face. "Are you going to read now for us?"
The heartbeat that was slowing down in Louis' chest came to a complete halt. He was absolutely dreading this moment. It was always like this; Louis would get into a story, Mr. Langston would notice, and then everyone would laugh at Louis while he struggled to get through the rest of the hour reading. That's how long it took for Louis to get through a whole page of any story. It could be a first level reader's book and Louis would still spend most of his time on just one page.
Louis not a bad reader, no. At least not on his own. In fact, he was an avid reader who always had a book in hand or around him. Reading tests and check-ups were simplistic to Louis, and he passed those with flying colours. When it came to reading out loud, however, Louis struggled immensely. Even the worst of readers did better than Louis. At least the people who had trouble reading could force the words out of their mouths properly. Louis could not.
Ever since he was a young boy, Louis had been a stutterer. At first, his parents were convinced it was just a phase. At some point, Louis was going to grow out of it and become a fluent speaker. But his talking skills never got better. Instead, they became even worse. Especially when Louis had to talk in front of groups of people, when he would have stuttered of nervousness without the speech impediment in the first place.
When Louis' parents finally accepted the he had a stutter, they put him through speech therapy. Many kids had speech impediments, but simple speech classes helped them a lot. The Tomlinsons had high hopes that Louis was going to leave that class a better and efficient talker. Alas, Louis did not improve his speech at all. It deteriorated, actually, from the stress of wanting to be perfect for his parents. They then had to accept the fact that Louis' stutter was permanent, and was not going to go anywhere.
That doesn't mean they treated Louis fairly. Sure, they still loved their son and wouldn't trade him for anything else. But Louis' parents paid more attention to his younger siblings who were perfect in so many aspects that Louis fell short in. Speech being one of them, grades being another.
It wasn't just his parents, though, who showed dislike for Louis. People, often Louis' peers, thought Louis was a freak for his awful stutter. It wasn't like Louis could help it, he had had the stutter since he started talking. For some reason, though, no one could accept that. Sure, Louis did have friends at one time. But that was years before, when he was still in primary school. Now that he was older, Louis was pushed away by everyone, especially his friends, who found better people who could actually talk to them normally.
Louis faced tons of humiliation due to his stuttering. Especially in moments like this, where he had to read out loud. Something, he would have to start a paragraph over because he had forgotten what was going on. One page of a story took him the whole hour to get through. Mr. Langston would force Louis to restart words and sentences in order to 'say it like written'. No matter what Louis did, he couldn't get around his damned stutter.
"D-do I h-have to?" Louis asked, soft and mousy. Louis didn't want to read, for he was afraid of what the others would say to him. Or about him.
Mr. Langston nodded slowly, in a way that made Louis feel stupid. A lot more stupid than he already felt.
Louis stood up slowly, like he was in pain, and walked to the front of the room. He cleared his throat, mentally preparing himself. "If I prof-f-fane with m-my unw-worthiest hand, this h-ho-holy shrine, the gentle s-sin is th-th-this," Louis began. Already, the class was erupting with laughter. Mr. Langston tried to quiet everyone down, because he wasn't that horrible of a teacher. But it was no use, as everyone continued their laughing, only at a more tame, quiet level. Louis took a pause to look around. Almost everyone was laughing, except for a couple of students, who were decent enough not to. Despite those couple of people, Louis still felt like the whole class was completely against him. Actually, the whole school. He no longer wanted to continue with the play.
"Please, continue, Louis," Mr. Langston instructed firmly. Louis looked up at him, pleading the teacher with his eyes to not force him through the Hell of reading more. But he just waved his hand at Louis, as a gesture to move on.
"M-my lips, t-t-two b-blushing pilgrims, r-r-ready stand. To sm-smooth th-that rough t-t-touch with a t-tender k-k-kiss," Louis continued. The laughing grew into a buzz that rang like a roar inside of Louis' head. No matter how much he tried to drown out the sound with positive thoughts, Louis could not get the sound out of his mind. Even the quietest giggle set Louis' insides on fire. Tears of embarrassment pricked at the corners of his eyes. His chest burned with shame and hurt. Louis' stomach was going nervous flips inside of his tummy.
The bell went off before Mr. Langston could force Louis to read more of the play. A breath that Louis didn't know he was holding in left him completely. Relief crashed over Louis like a wave of comfort. He no longer had to read for the rest of the week, at least not in his Literature class, where most of the taunting was held.
Louis dropped down into his seat to grab his book bag and supplies. Louis thought that maybe he could make out of the classroom before anyone could stop him. He speedily packed up his things before standing to leave. Before Louis could walk over the threshold, though, a simple call of his name stopped him.
"Louis, please, stay back for a moment. We need to have a little chat," Mr. Langston said. Louis stepped away from the door and to the side, letting the others in the classroom leave.
"L-l-later, nerd," Jimmy Quinn nipped out as he passed by Louis, making the latter wince. The classmates that heard laughed to themselves, looking straight at the beet red Louis.
When everyone had left the room, Louis shut the door, pressing his back against it after. His knees felt shaky from his anxiety. He hated staying after class, because it always meant some kind of lecture.
"Louis, I need to talk to you about your reading. It's honestly really out of hand. I can understand reading slow and taking your time. But you just won't stop messing up the words," Mr. Langston said, standing up to pour himself a cuppa. He slurped some before sighing. "You really need to work on stopping that. I want you to, by the end of the semester, be able to read Sonnet Eighteen without stuttering. I don't care how long it takes you to get through it. But I do not want to hear a single stutter. Do you think you can do that?"
Louis quickly shook his head. "M-Mr. Langston, I c-c-can't help i-it," he replied. He exaggerated his stutter a bit to prove a point. But Mr. Langston just pulled a face.
"I'm sorry, Louis, but you're going to fail this class unless you figure out how to get past your speech impediment. Half of the grade in this class is based on speech. If you can't speak properly, you can't graduate this class. And if you can't graduate this class, then you're going to have to make it up next year, when everyone else is in college," the teacher said.
Louis' stomach dropped. There was no way he could possibly do that. Louis' stutter became worse with speech therapy. He couldn't just cure it all by himself. Especially not in the limited amount of time he had until his testing period and graduation. Louis Tomlinson was going to be the only one in his year not graduating.
Louis wanted to continue arguing. He wanted to fight for his right to graduate, even with a stutter. He was so tired of being judged for something he couldn't help.
But the only words that came out of Louis' mouth was a stuttered out 'okay'.