NOW? I signed, grimacing.
Mom shrugged, signing, DON’T KNOW. YOU DECIDE.
Well, wasn’t that easier said than done?
Mom gave me a comforting pat on the leg and stood up, moving toward the door.
WANT BREAKFAST? she signed one-handed as she opened the door.
“No,” I said. “I want to go back to sleep.”
Mom gave me an understanding smile and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
I rolled over and yanked my blankets up and over me again, squeezing my eyes shut tight. Thoughts of Beau wouldn’t quit dancing across my mind, images of his smile with the dimples, the way he looked when he laughed.
Perhaps Mom was right and Beau really did just want to do what he could to help. But why couldn’t he have asked me about this himself instead of assuming I wanted a cochlear implant and needed help getting it to begin with? Who even made snap judgments like that?
You did, I thought suddenly, when I was seconds away from falling asleep again.
Hadn’t I thought for months that Beau was just some popular snob out to get brownie points for making friends with the new Deaf girl? Despite what happened, I still had to believe that was wrong and Beau genuinely did feel something for me.
I stuck a hand out from underneath my mountain of blankets and slapped around on my nightstand until I found my cell phone. I closed out all the text messages from Nina and one from Beau—Can we talk, please?—and typed up a text message to Melissa. This was one of those situations where you had to consult your best friend first before making any rash decisions.
Everything ok?? she texted alongside a frowny face emoji when she responded.
Not really, I texted back.
It took a few minutes to type up everything that had happened in the past few days. By the time I sent the message off to Melissa I had a short novella written, but it was the only way to get everything out and she wouldn’t mind anyway. The more details, the better for Melissa.
OMG was her response that came more quickly than I would’ve expected.
That was it. Just the three letters. Not really the help I was looking for.
Bad?? I texted back frantically.
It . . . something else, she responded. But how you feel?
Hurt, I texted her, needing no time at all to answer. Upset. I thought he liked me for ME.
Tell him that, Melissa texted back almost immediately. Don’t settle.
What would you do? I asked her next.
Melissa’s response didn’t come for some time, and it was just a short, Don’t know, followed by, We don’t need to be fixed. He can’t see that, not worth your time.
She was right. There was one thing I knew for certain. I was happy being Deaf, and I was not about to change that just because a cochlear implant might make my life easier. Just because Beau thought he was doing me a favor didn’t mean he actually was.
Beau was supposed to be a smart guy. He wouldn’t have gotten into Yale if he wasn’t. Why he wasn’t getting this was just baffling to me. And if he couldn’t understand this one thing I was so adamant about, then was it even worth it, trying to develop some kind of relationship when we both were just too different?
CHAPTER 35
Walking into AP Statistics Monday morning, I made it very clear I was not ready to talk to Beau. Not once did I make eye contact with him as I took my regular seat and pulled out my homework and textbook. I could feel the tension coming off him in waves, and five minutes into the lesson I started to imagine I could hear him squirming in his seat.
Class was fifty-five minutes of torment, and I wasn’t sure how much of Mrs. Richardson’s lesson I actually absorbed. My mind would veer off every few minutes and I would start to think of everything I wanted to say to Beau, how badly I wanted him to understand that I did not need this kind of “help” from him. I didn’t need him to be my able-bodied savior.
I was up and out of my seat, shoving my things into my backpack, the moment Kathleen motioned to me that the bell had rung. I got about two steps toward the door when Beau’s hand came down on my shoulder.
CAN WE TALK? he signed when I finally brought myself to look at him.
NO, I signed back immediately, but had to follow it up with, NOT YET.
There was no way this whole thing could be put to rest without talking it through, but I wasn’t quite ready for it yet. And why not let him fret about it for a little bit longer? Maybe he’d start to feel the way I did.
I turned on my heel and left without waiting for Beau’s response, only stopping outside in the hallway for Kathleen to catch up to me.
WHAT’S WRONG? she signed when we rounded the corner into the next hallway.
I didn’t have the energy to give Kathleen a play-by-play of everything that happened over the weekend, so I gave her the condensed version.
B-E-A-U GIVE ME INFORMATION ABOUT CI FOR MY BIRTHDAY, I signed, my movements jerky. HE THINK I WANT ONE.
Kathleen’s eyebrows shot up, and her mouth got all tight like it did any time she disapproved of something.
HOW YOU FEEL? she signed after a moment.
SAD, I signed back immediately. ANGRY.
And a whole list of other emotions too, but Kathleen could get the picture without my going into detail.
I was sort of expecting Kathleen to come up with a solution, like she did when I told her about the situation with Cartwright and the interpreter, but she was still silent when we reached Mr. Wells’ history class.
I was prepared to go through another round of questioning when I took my seat next to Nina, but I figured by the tiny smile she gave me, and the understanding look in her eyes, that she already knew everything that had happened.
YOU OK? was all she signed right when Beau walked into class and sat down in the seat beside me.
I went with total honesty here.
“No, I’m not,” I said aloud.
Mr. Wells jumped right into class the second after the bell rang, but I was still far from being grounded in the lesson. I ended up doodling all over the page in my notebook instead of taking notes. I snapped back to reality when Nina started tapping on my desk to get my attention and noticed that I’d drawn a whole page of boxes and frowny faces.
GROUP DISCUSSION TIME, Nina signed to me when I glanced her way.
YAY, I signed with an eye roll.
I turned my back to Beau and faced Nina. I didn’t want to talk to him about history either.
Nina started signing and using her voice to talk about something to do with the Cuban Missile Crisis, but my attention wandered once I caught on to the looks Jackson kept shooting my way. He was sitting two rows back, leaning toward a guy I knew to be on the baseball team too. They were clearly not talking about anything related to the Cuban Missile Crisis.
It was a mixture of curiosity and determination that had me focusing on Jackson’s big mouth, lipreading what he was saying. His gaze kept darting back and forth between me and Beau, so he was apparently talking about us, and he was starting to smirk.
“Excuse me,” I blurted out loud enough to catch the attention of a few classmates. “You really didn’t just say that, did you?”
I’d made it a point to have as little interaction with Jackson as possible, but there was no chance I wasn’t going to call him out on what he’d just said.
Jackson shot upright in his seat, eyes going wide. “. . . heard me?”
“Of course I didn’t. But did you forget this disabled chick can lipread?”
A bright red flush started to creep up Jackson’s neck and into his face as everyone stared at us—Beau and Nina included. This wasn’t the kind of attention he was used to.
“Sorry . . .” Jackson started to say, not even meeting my gaze. “Just thought . . .”
“No, I don’t want your apology,” I snapped. “I want you to understand I’m not disabled. Literally the only thing I can’t do that you can is hear.”
Jackson shifted awkwardly in his seat
, pointedly staring at a spot above my head. All he said in response was, “Okay.”
“And I’d appreciate it if you’d quit talking about me and Beau,” I added, on a roll here and ready to keep going just to make sure Jackson really understood. “Whatever’s going on between us is none of your business.”
I refused to believe the utter crap Jackson just spouted off, that Beau was only pursuing something with me to get brownie points for dating a disabled chick. No matter this rut we were in, Beau would never be that cruel. He had too much heart for that.
I twisted around in my seat to face forward, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.
“What . . . that about?” Nina asked, putting a hand to my forearm as she leaned toward me.
NOTHING, I signed back. FINE.
Sneaking a glance over at Beau—he was pretending to be engrossed in his textbook, but I knew his mind was far from here—I realized I wasn’t fine. I wouldn’t be fine until we talked.
CHAPTER 36
Tuesday morning, Kathleen was running late and wasn’t waiting by the front office like she normally did each morning. This worked perfectly for me. All I needed was a handful of minutes alone with Beau so we could talk. It would have been too awkward to have this kind of conversation in front of an interpreter.
Beau was shoving things into his backpack at his locker just like I knew he would be. His movements were sluggish, like he was running on no sleep or was completely distracted. He looked how I’d felt.
When I approached, I rapped my knuckles on the locker beside him to get his attention. I wasn’t going to be using my voice for this.
Beau’s green eyes went wide when he slammed his locker shut and saw me standing there. He blurted out, “You’re here.”
HELLO, I signed back. READY T-O TALK.
That’s all I could think of to say. I was already having trouble recalling all the signs I had planned by being this close to him.
Beau’s lips were parted and one hand was raised like he was about to start signing, which I was convinced would be an apology, but it wasn’t. Instead he said, “I got . . . boulder.”
DON’T UNDERSTAND? I signed after a failed attempt at piecing together what he just said.
I had no idea what a boulder had to do with anything.
Beau stuck a hand in his backpack, did some rummaging around, and came up with a folded letter. I did a quick scan of the letter, a formal document from a college in Boulder. I recognized it as the same college Nina applied to. It wasn’t a surprise Beau was accepted, but I wasn’t sure why he felt this was the appropriate moment to share the news with me.
OK, I signed when I passed the letter back to him. GOOD FOR YOU.
I could see Beau must’ve been short of breath with the heavy rise and fall of his chest. He shoved the letter back in his backpack. When his gaze met mine again, he said, “. . . applied after . . . talk that night . . . wanted . . . know . . . could do something else.”
WHAT? I signed, so taken aback by that statement I felt my eyebrows shooting up my forehead in surprise.
Beau settled for signing, I TELL MY FATHER I DON’T WANT MEDICINE DEGREE.
“. . . not what . . . want,” he said aloud, resting a hand against his chest. “. . . want English degree.”
I said, “Oh,” instead of keeping my voice turned off like I’d intended.
I was still angry and hurt about Saturday’s events with the cochlear implant brochure and I couldn’t see myself getting over that anytime soon. But I couldn’t help but feel proud of Beau anyway.
“Where is this coming from?” I said, knowing I wouldn’t be able to come up with any signs on the spot. “Why are you telling me this?”
Then I shook my head. I did want to know what was going on with Beau, but first I needed to tell him what was going on with me.
WAIT, PLEASE, I signed, holding up one finger. BEFORE YOU START, I WANT . . .
What did I want exactly?
I NOT CHANGE MYSELF, I signed after a moment’s hesitation. NO CI. HAVE ME DEAF . . .
“Or not at all,” I finished.
It didn’t matter so much to me anymore that Beau was hearing. That wasn’t the problem here. The problem was that he’d thought I wanted a CI just because I had one bad interview experience and some complications with finding an interpreter for college. That did not mean I needed to give up. If Beau somehow thought I couldn’t do that or that a CI was the answer to all my problems—to be hearing again—then I was prepared to walk away right now and not look back. It would be painful, but I couldn’t betray myself like that.
And Beau had this awkward smile breaking out across his face by the time I finished speaking, and that was even more confusing than the whole Boulder thing a minute ago. He seemed . . . almost calm. Like that was what he’d been expecting me to say.
I KNOW, he signed. AND I SORRY.
“. . . shouldn’t . . . done that,” he continued using his voice. “. . . thought . . .”
I SEE NOW YOU NOT NEED MY HELP, he finished in sign with a shrug.
NO, I agreed in sign. BUT . . . WANT YOU.
That I could at least be honest about.
Beau started getting pink in the face as he began to sign in a rush, something like, BEFORE I THINK WE NOT . . . BECAUSE YOU DEAF AND . . .
I stared at him blankly while he struggled to find the words he was looking for. It looked like he was giving some huff as he threw up his hands and settled for signing, HEARING LIFE NOT PERFECT.
SAME WITH DEAF, I signed, nodding along.
YOU CONTINUE SUPPORT ME, Beau signed next. I SHOULD, SAME.
I felt myself begin to smile despite wanting to keep my cool and collected façade going.
WHO TELL YOU THAT? I signed, but I had this feeling I already knew who was responsible.
N-I-N-A, Beau answered, and I had to smother a laugh.
Thanks for the help, Nina, I thought.
HAPPY YOU UNDERSTAND NOW, I signed to Beau.
YES, Beau signed in agreement. SORRY, AGAIN. I . . .
It took him a moment before he signed, CAN WE START NEW?
“Sorry, what?”
Beau turned on his heel and walked down the hallway, disappeared around the corner, and then came walking back toward me. When he reached me, he held out a hand for me to shake, a pleasant smile on his face.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m Beau . . . hearing, but . . . learning.”
I shook his hand, finding it impossible not to smile now.
NICE T-O MEET YOU, I signed. MY NAME M-A-Y-A. DEAF AND HAPPY.
This was weird, but I got it. A fresh start here wasn’t such a bad idea. Time to throw out all the misconceptions about hearing and Deaf people and start over.
“Walk . . . to class?” Beau asked, offering me a hand.
“Sure,” I said, lacing my fingers through his and holding on tight. “Tell me about this English degree you want.”
Beau began to sign with one hand as we set off down the hallway, telling me about the literature program he was interested in and how he’d been thinking more and more about becoming a teacher since I’d told him he’d make a good one the night of his party for his acceptance into Yale.
GOOD, I signed to him. YOU SMART. MAKE WONDERFUL TEACHER.
Beau grinned, showing off the dimples again. THANK YOU, he signed back, and then a sudden grimace tugged at his face. “My dad . . . not . . . understanding.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve got this,” I said. “It might not be easy, but not much is.”
TRUE, Beau signed. BUT EASY IF I HAVE YOU.
SAME, I signed after a second of thought.
My life definitely wasn’t easy, but it was significantly better when I had Beau next to me.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
I dropped the bag of soiled towels into the laundry chute and slammed the lid shut, feeling rather proud of myself.
I’d gotten through the first day of my internship at Mountain View Rehabilitat
ion Clinic with little to no difficulty despite the worrying I’d done leading up to it. There had been an interpreter this morning to walk me through orientation, and right after lunch I got to go on my first rounds through the clinic.
It helped that all the staff here were incredibly kind, excited to have a new face around. One of the older nurses—her name was Liz—had already started carrying around a little notebook she kept tucked in the pocket of her scrubs so she could write notes to me. She’d already filled about three pages asking me questions over lunch.
This internship wasn’t respiratory therapy, but I would be getting six months of experience in a medical setting, which my college guidance counselor assured me would look fantastic on my resume. I was already into my second semester of college and I was miles ahead of where I’d been this time last year. High school was long behind me and I had no desire to look back, even if what was currently ahead of me were exams and more exams for the next couple years.
“Done for . . . day?” Liz asked as I walked out of the laundry room.
I peeked at my cell phone in the pocket of my scrubs to check the time—almost five in the evening.
“Think so,” I said. “Thanks for all your help today. This has been great so far.”
Liz gave me a perky smile and thumbs up, setting off down the hallway with me. “How . . . think . . . went?”
“Good,” I said once I’d pieced together her question. “A lot to take in, but . . .”
“Good,” Liz repeated, and then she signed, YAY!
I had to laugh at this and signed, YAY! back at her.
Probably the next time I came in for a shift, Liz would have a few more signs in her arsenal. I was looking forward to it.
“Walk . . . out?” Liz said, nodding toward the clinic entrance.
“Sure, thanks.”
Liz leaned over to the receptionist still at her post and said something that made the receptionist give an eye roll, and then we were off.
The sun was shining when we stepped outside, a pleasant breeze rustling the trees that lined the parking lot. Not a day you’d want to spend cooped up inside, but there was still plenty of daylight left to enjoy.
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