The Silence Between Us: Chapters 1–6

I couldn’t hear myself speak, but I could feel the sound reverberating in my skull whenever I spoke.

My new interpreter Kathleen came walking out of the main office to greet us, her mess of red curls pulled up into a bun. She signed, GOOD MORNING, with a perky smile.

I officially lost my hearing when I was thirteen, four years ago, but I still remembered what some things sounded like, and Mom’s dramatic sighs were firmly ingrained in my memory.

I froze in the doorway. Had Engelmann assigned me a second interpreter? Or was this girl fresh out of ’terp school, here to shadow Kathleen and add to my already awkward entourage?

Every classroom, hallway, and office were described in painstaking detail, even though Engelmann wasn't all that different from Pratt—just bigger.

People gravitated to their lockers that lined the hallways, chatting with one another or shuffling around still half asleep.

The last stop on our tour of Engelmann was my locker before we were required to be in the gym for a first-day-of-school assembly to bolster our excitement for the new school year.

Gingerly, I hung my backpack on the hook inside, wondering if the universe was actually conspiring against me.

Gingerly, I hung my backpack on the hook inside, wondering if the universe was actually conspiring against me.

By the time we reached the gym almost all the bleachers were full, and my desire to end up in the very back row was thwarted.

I didn't actually hear much of anything with my hearing aids like some people seemed to think. At best I could hear some ambient noise, like a quiet thud if someone slammed a door.

If I just closed my eyes, hearing aids off, I was entirely alone in the world, and sometimes I preferred it that way instead of being sucked into all the hubbub around me.

This guy was tall and a little gangly—awkward even. His dark hair was a mess, like he’d just rolled out of bed, and yet it seemed stylish in an I-don't-care kind of way.

Kathleen just gave me a smile and squeezed my shoulder. I couldn’t decide if her perkiness was encouraging or annoying but at least it was reliable. Consistency had to count for something when your whole life had been turned upside down.

I could see her texting on the iPhone not-so-tactfully hidden in her lap and she didn't look up until Mrs. Richardson tapped a finger on her desk to get her attention.

I took my seat at the now-vacant desk, dropped my backpack beside me, and turned around to thank the guy behind me for intervening.

THANK YOU, I signed to him, a little reluctantly.

I could feel everyone's piercing gaze fixed on us as Kathleen signed and I watched intently.

I felt a smattering of guilt when I realized Kathleen was still interpreting the conversation with Beau and I’d been too wrapped up in my thoughts of Connor and respiratory therapy to pay much attention.

I felt a smattering of guilt when I realized Kathleen was still interpreting the conversation with Beau and I’d been too wrapped up in my thoughts of Connor and respiratory therapy to pay much attention.

Kathleen looked disgruntled when she waved at Mr. Wells and signed, YOU NOT NEED SHOUT. TALK NORMAL. I INTERPRET FOR HER.

For as much as Mr. Wells seemed completely oblivious, he understood from the agitated way I was signing I was most certainly annoyed.

Nina found us a spot in line behind a rather short guy with smooth brown hair and a lean physique that suggested he was into sports. He and Nina exchanged pleasantries—maybe they were friends?—and then the guy turned toward me.

His eyes moved to me again and he started to finger spell his name, although he wound up with the letter m instead of n when he got toward the end. “Jackson,” he said, leaning toward me, a telltale sign he was raising his voice.

I took my time signing, I DON'T LIKE HEARING BOYS, but it was all I could do to keep from busting out laughing when Jackson nodded and gave a thumbs-up, the cheeky smile still in place as he moved forward with the line.

I was angry at that unbelievably thoughtless comment, but lurking on the periphery was the fear that my voice sounded so bad and was somehow so surprising it caught Beau off guard.

As I ate, I debated the merits of going out and getting a job to buy a car so I could drive myself to that school for the Deaf.

I leaned back in my seat to wave hello to Connor sprawled out in the back with several bags of groceries Mom must have picked up, looking a little tired after his first day of school but otherwise just fine.

Then Mom had her hand on my shoulder, and I twisted back around to look at her. By the expectant look on her face, I could tell she was silently asking, so how was it?

Melissa was spunky and bubbly and never failed to see the positive side of the equation—something I could definitely use at the moment.

I was one of the first to arrive in AP Statistics, happy to take my seat at the same desk as yesterday without any hassle this time.

Compared to the random strangers who liked to stop me and finger spell the whole alphabet just to show me they could, Beau had done a fairly decent job conveying his message to me.

It was beyond me how cheery she was so early in the morning, but then again, I’d only finished half my cup of coffee at breakfast and it was hard for me to be cheery without copious amounts of caffeine.

He gave me a thumbs-up when he finished, looking expectant with wide eyes, so I just mustered up a smile and did a thumbs-up of my own.

What if I mispronounced the name of some business magnate or company or talked too loudly?