The Silence Between Us

by Alison Gervais

  I signed, DON’T UNDERSTAND, as I shook my head, but Beau didn’t seem to be able to see me all that well either.

  I leaned away from the window and scooted closer to Beau, my annoyance with this suddenly challenging conversation growing. Couldn’t they have kept at least one light on in this car?

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying,” I told Beau apologetically.

  I saw Beau raise a hand and I thought he was about to try and sign to me, but he put a finger to his lips instead, the universal sign for shhh. I must’ve been talking too loudly then, something I did a lot, because how was I supposed to know how loud I was being?

  “Beau, what . . .”

  Beau was leaning closer like he was attempting to lipread himself, but there was something different about his expression this time. I kept waiting for him to try to speak to me again or maybe even sign something, but that never came. There was only a breath of space between us left, and for whatever reason I didn’t make the connection that Beau was going to kiss me until his lips were actually pressed against mine.

  For one second I sat there like a fish out of water with no idea what I was supposed to do. This was my first kiss, here in the middle of a darkened train car with Christmas lights outside. What was I supposed to do with my hands? With my face?

  Then my brain started melting and thinking became impossible as Beau’s fingers skimmed across my cheek and around the back of my neck to tilt my face up toward his. On instinct, I curled my fingers into his jacket to tug him closer.

  I felt his breathless laughter against my lips, and I wanted to laugh too, wondering how we even ended up here in the first place. If somebody asked me months ago what my thoughts on Beau were, I would’ve said I wanted nothing to do with him or his stacks of books. And now I was thinking Beau should’ve kissed me a really long time ago.

  When we finally broke apart, the lights in the train had come back on. I could see Beau clearly now, and I wanted to memorize his unbelievably slaphappy look.

  I was the first to speak, or rather sign. The only thing I could manage to sign was a shaky, WHY?

  Beau pointed to the ceiling of the train car with a finger, and I looked up to see a little sprig of mistletoe dangling above us. How cliché.

  “Lame!” I said with a gasp.

  MAYBE, Beau signed, flashing a cheeky grin. “But . . . needed . . . encouragement.”

  WHY? I signed again.

  I LIKE YOU, Beau signed to me then with practiced ease.

  Just three simple words, and he signed them like he’d never been more confident in himself.

  SAME, I signed back, no hesitation on my part either.

  I didn’t know where or how or even why it all started, but a hearing boy liked me. Even weirder was that I liked him too.

  CHAPTER 26

  My foot barely crossed over the threshold into the house Tuesday afternoon, three days after my date with Beau, when my phone started vibrating in my jacket pocket, the LED light flashing along with it.

  I was expecting it to be a text, not a FaceTime call, and I definitely wasn’t expecting to see the words: INCOMING CALL—BEAU WATSON across the screen. Mostly we’d stuck to texting in the few days since our date, but we’d literally said good-bye to each other not fifteen minutes ago.

  WHO? Mom signed to me on her way into the kitchen, pointing back at my phone.

  Instead of responding, I pushed the green ACCEPT button, and Beau popped up into view a second later. I opened my mouth to say hello, but the word fell short when I took in his face and saw that he looked completely freaked out, his expression taut and his posture rigid.

  WHAT’S WRONG? I signed immediately.

  Rather than sign his answer, Beau held up a large cream-colored envelope for me to see, Yale University’s impressive crest stamped on the top left. No wonder Beau looked like he was about to be sick. This was the response he’d been waiting on practically for years. What Beau considered to be the key to his future was right there in his hands.

  “Holy crap,” I blurted. “Why haven’t you opened it yet?!”

  WAIT FOR YOU, Beau signed with one hand, setting the envelope down.

  “That’s nice, really, but open it!”

  Beau’s shoulders rose and fell as he took deep breaths, reaching for the envelope again. His hands were shaking while he tore open the envelope and shook out the contents. A couple brochures fell onto the counter along with a thick, official looking paper.

  “What’s it say?” I asked when the silence started to stretch on.

  Beau’s eyes were moving back and forth rapidly as he read the letter, but I had no idea what he was thinking because of the blank look stretched across his face. My heart started to sink the longer he went without answering.

  “. . . got . . .” Beau said finally, looking up from the paper.

  AGAIN? I signed, frowning.

  My guess was Beau had no idea how to sign whatever was on the letter, so he just signed, YES.

  “You got in?” I said aloud, loud enough to make Mom pop her head into the living room with an alarmed look.

  YES, Beau signed again, his movement sluggish.

  “Beau, that’s awesome!” I said, signing, YAY! at the same time. “Aren’t you happy? Be happy!”

  Beau’s lips twitched with a small smile, but he still didn’t sign anything.

  “You . . . I mean, you are happy, right?”

  Somehow, I didn’t believe him when he signed, YES, again.

  “Hey,” I said, and when he looked up at me from the letter, I signed, PROUD, and pointed back at him.

  That got a full-on smile from him, and I felt myself start to relax a little. Maybe Beau just processed things differently. He must have been excited about getting into Yale, he just didn’t know how to express it yet. This was major news for him.

  THANK YOU, Beau signed, his smile growing. I . . .

  Beau suddenly stopped mid-sign and straightened up as a man came walking into view on the screen. I immediately recognized Dr. Watson. He didn’t seem to notice me on the phone, reaching for the mess of Yale stuff on the counter instead.

  YOU OK? I signed to Beau, pointing a finger at Dr. Watson.

  Beau nodded quickly, signing, SEE YOU LATER, and the FaceTime call went dead.

  I wandered into the kitchen still in a slight daze, casting my phone aside on the counter to go help Mom with dinner.

  OK? Mom signed when I joined her at the sink as she washed some vegetables.

  GOOD, I signed back. “That was Beau. He just got his acceptance letter from Yale.”

  WOW, Mom signed one handed. COOL.

  Her focus was on the vegetables, her shoulders tense, her movements short and jerky. It didn’t take more than a mere second to tell that Mom was seriously stressed. And she didn’t get like this often, only when things were really overwhelming. Immediately I wanted to berate myself for not doing more to help out.

  Mom always said my main focus should be on school, but I couldn’t just ignore everything else going on at home. Connor was still on the mend and he needed more attention and care than usual, and Mom and I had been working extra to make sure that happened—or at least I hope I’d been working extra.

  I was still contemplating this all when Mom asked me to get the bell peppers she forgot to pull out from the fridge. What was even more glaringly obvious than Mom’s stress was that there wasn’t as much food in the fridge as there usually was. The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t remember the last time Mom had been grocery shopping.

  I snatched some bell peppers from the crisper, went to the sink to rinse them, then grabbed a cutting board to do some chopping. I had to shove a stack of mail off the counter to make room for the cutting board and paused when I saw the bill laying open on top, from Spring Meadows Home Health Care. The amount listed beside the due date next week made my jaw drop.

  That’s almost the same as a hospital bill, I thought, my mind buzzing as I started carefully slici
ng into the pepper. The kind of hospital bill that took months to pay off.

  We got plenty of those thanks to the extended hospital stays Connor seemed to have every few months or so. And Mom worked for a good company and had decent health insurance, but even as a seventeen-year-old I knew a bill like that was just outrageous.

  I needed to start applying for jobs. Now was as good a time as any to start pulling my weight around here.

  When I walked into AP Statistics the next morning, I saw Beau sitting in his regular spot with his sunshine smile in place. I gave him the once over as I crossed the room to my seat, trying to decide for myself if his smile was genuine or not.

  He perked up more when I took my seat and he signed, GOOD MORNING.

  HELLO, I signed back. YOU OK? YESTERDAY—

  Beau started signing before I could even finish my sentence, saying, NO, FINE.

  SURE? I signed skeptically.

  PROMISE.

  I gave in with a shrug and pulled out my homework, ready to get on with class. Finals were next week, and we were blissfully reviewing past lessons instead of covering new content. I was having enough difficulty focusing as it was with Beau sitting right behind me.

  Later, Nina came rushing up to us out in the hallway when we were shuffling off to AP US History and grabbed Beau by the arm, talking about a mile a minute. I stood there watching her back and forth with Beau, catching the word “Yale” more than once.

  Beau finally turned to me and said, “We’re having . . . party . . . my house tonight.”

  OK, I signed, giving a small smile.

  YOU COME? Beau signed with hopeful eyes.

  PROMISE, I assured him.

  Nina had that knowing look in her eyes as we continued on our way to class, and I had this sinking feeling it would only be a matter of time before she started pestering me and Beau about the nature of our relationship.

  Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, seeing as I had no idea where Beau and I currently stood either, and I would actually very much appreciate knowing what he thought about the nature of our relationship now.

  When I parked the Caravan at the curb outside Beau’s house, I sat there for a couple moments, trying to get a grip on myself. There were a lot of cars lining the curb and filling the driveway, which made me think this was not some casual get-together.

  But I’d told Beau I would come tonight, and I meant it. Even if whatever we were didn’t have a name, he’d still been over the moon with my college acceptance letter, and the least I could do was show the same amount of enthusiasm for him. And regardless of how Beau felt, this was Yale we were talking about, an Ivy League institution. This kind of thing deserved to be celebrated.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets and kept my head down against the cold on my way up to the house. When I reached the front door, I didn’t even get the chance to knock before it swung open and Beau was standing there in the doorway, something like relief flashing across his face when he ushered me inside.

  WHAT’S WRONG? I signed automatically, but he waved away my question and signed, NOTHING.

  I had to take my shoes off and hang up my jacket in the hall closet before following Beau into the living room where the party was taking place. The house hadn’t changed much since my visit at midterms, but my guess was that Dana had put some elbow grease into making everything have an extra clean shine to it.

  Taking in the amount of people in the living room had me fighting the urge to duck behind Beau to shield myself from view. This scene of Beau’s guests conversing by the fireplace, those who weren’t in high school chatting over glasses of wine, the delectable appetizers spread out on the coffee table, probably would’ve made the perfect stock photo for fancy living.

  I felt very underdressed in my jeans and T-shirt when I saw the skirt and blouse get-up two girls I knew from the student council were wearing. The only redeeming thing about this—apart from getting to stand so close to Beau—was that Nina was here. Yeah, she was currently talking to Jackson of all people, but at least she was here.

  DON’T WORRY, Beau signed to me when he saw me gnawing on my lip. NICE PEOPLE.

  Nice of him to try to reassure me, but I had my doubts about that, catching sight of the look Dr. Watson sent our way when he saw Beau sign to me.

  A man came wandering over to us while I was debating pulling Nina away from Jackson to chat with her myself. He looked pretty similar to Dr. Watson actually, save for the graying hair, so my bet was that this was one of Beau’s relatives.

  MY UNCLE, Beau signed as I shook the man’s hand. E-D-D-I-E.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t notice how clammy my palm was.

  Beau’s Uncle Eddie pointed to his ear and said, “. . . deaf?”

  I nodded, forcing myself to keep meeting his gaze and not go scampering off from the intensity of Dr. Watson’s stare. What was his deal?

  “Cool,” Eddie said with a grin, and he left it at that.

  I appreciated that.

  Beau introduced two more family members next. There was his aunt Paula, Eddie’s wife, who seemed nice as she smiled and shook my hand. Then there was their daughter, Lacey, who did not bother with a hello and just gave a limp wave.

  Everyone else I knew were friends or student council members from Engelmann, so any further introductions were unnecessary. But tonight was about Beau, so it was no surprise most eyes were on him. This wasn’t so different than standing next to him at school.

  FOOD? Beau signed, nodding toward the appetizers on the coffee table.

  SURE, THANK YOU, I signed.

  I decided to stuff my face while the socializing continued. I didn’t really notice what I was eating, but I was relishing the distraction. Guests were itching to talk to Beau and congratulate him on his acceptance from Yale. That wasn’t the type of conversation I wanted to be lipreading.

  Beau barely registered my signing, DRINK, to him, pointing toward the kitchen, while a colleague of Dr. Watson blabbed away at him. I slipped away before he could respond.

  It was a pleasant surprise to come across Dana in the kitchen preparing more appetizers for the guests, and I said, “Hello,” aloud in greeting.

  Dana did a double take when she saw me and dropped the bagel chips she’d been sorting, wiping her hands off on her apron before she came over to give me a hug. A little startling, but I didn’t mind so much.

  “Good . . . see you,” Dana said when she let me go, patting my cheek, and then she signed, HOW ARE YOU?

  “Has Beau been teaching you sign language?” I asked with a small smile.

  YES, Dana signed back, and she laughed. “Beau sure . . . talk . . . you . . . lot.”

  It wasn’t a stretch to fill in the blanks of what Dana was saying. It also wasn’t easy to keep myself from getting hot in the face. How often did Beau talk about me when I wasn’t around? (Really, anytime I wasn’t looking at him he could be talking about me, because I never heard anything he said.)

  Dana understood me when I signed, WATER, PLEASE, and went to the fridge to grab me a bottle of water. I twisted the cap off and took a few swigs, watching the party going on in the living room. Nina had teamed up with Beau and a few other student council members, and when Nina noticed me a second later she sent me a smile and motioned for me to come join them.

  HELP HER, I signed, pointing to Dana.

  Maybe that was a tiny fib, but Dana did look like she could use some help getting another tray of food together.

  I kept one eye on the party while I helped Dana arrange some vegetables, hummus, and other dips. It was impossible to miss the way Dr. Watson was hovering a few feet from Beau, puffed up like a rooster. Anytime someone looked their way, Dr. Watson would clap Beau on the shoulder in an ‘atta boy gesture.

  Beau definitely was aware of his dad’s behavior, with the way his lips would tighten and his eyes would narrow when he looked over at Dr. Watson. It made me wonder why no one else seemed to have caught on to how uncomfortable Be
au was starting to appear, but then I realized that nobody paid attention to Beau the way I did.

  “Do you think he’s happy?” I blurted out, looking to Dana.

  Dana paused as she doled out some hummus into a fancy serving bowl and looked back at me in confusion. “Who?”

  “Beau,” I said, nodding toward the living room. “I mean, do you think he’s actually happy about getting into Yale?”

  This wasn’t the first time that thought crossed my mind, but it was the first time I’d ever said it aloud. This was supposed to be a party celebrating Beau’s grand achievement and yet now he was looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

  Dana’s perpetual smile seemed to droop as she looked over at Beau. I think she’d already come to the same conclusion I had.

  “. . . don’t know,” she finally said when she glanced my way again. “. . . hope so.”

  Me too, I thought.

  When we finished arranging the extra trays of appetizers and brought them out into the living room, Dr. Watson took this as his cue to call everyone to attention, a fresh glass of wine in hand—clearly about to give some sort of toast.

  I slid into a spot next to Nina, which also gave me the perfect opportunity to lipread whatever Dr. Watson was going to say. I threw all my focus into it, and it was only because Dr. Watson seemed to be a grand public speaker that I was able to make out the gist of what he was saying. I wasn’t able to split my attention between lipreading and watching Beau for his reaction, but I certainly didn’t miss the look on Beau’s face when Dr. Watson said that Beau was going to do his father proud by following his footsteps and going into medicine.

  I did everything I could not to do a double take at this.

  Beau going into medicine? No way.

  I mean, Beau was so personable he’d probably make a great pediatric surgeon like his dad, but that didn’t seem like the right path for him. I’d always imagined Beau going to college to do anything and everything he could with books.

  But Beau was forcing a smile while people applauded him, and thirty seconds later he excused himself, signing, RESTROOM, when I caught his eye.