The Silence Between Us: Chapters 12–15

I almost started squirming under his gaze. Why was he looking at me like that? I stared back defiantly, signing, WHAT'S UP?

He tried signing something else, and it took me a moment to figure out he was trying to ask me if I liked dancing, but he floundered on the last word, his lips pursed again.

There was a book open in his lap, and he seemed lost in the pages as he absentmindedly munched on the cookie in his hand.

It was just something that had always been there, that ambition, and it was strange to think of what it would be like if I hadn’t had that epiphany that day I spent at the hospital with Connor when he was barely four years old.

Beau was the only hearing boy at this school who'd taken the initiative to even learn a few signs to try to talk to me.

I could have spent a lot more time contemplating the mysteries still surrounding Beau, but with midterms the following week and that homecoming incident, my conversation with Beau had to be forcibly shoved to the back of my mind.

I kept a tight grip on my pencil as I pounded out each equation, making sure to press down on the paper hard so every number and letter was perfectly legible.

Everyone was fixated on us, their own labs forgotten as they watched Eli tear me apart.

“I'm...office...this period. Running...for Mrs....” Beau said, and when I just stared at him in befuddlement, he finger spelled, E-R-R-A-N-D-S.

I didn't mean to spill my story, but I didn't have the energy to squabble with him anymore.

He gave a dismissive wave. “Never mind. Maya, that wasn't...fault.”

Beau seemed surprised at this as he signed, REALLY?
I nodded, suppressing the urge to smile.

I had to finger spell the word practice for him before he understood, and he gave a nonchalant shrug, signing, MAYBE.

It felt anticlimactic when he just swiped two fingers against his nose—the sign for fun.

It took her longer than a minute to finger spell the words academic decathlon as I waited impatiently beside my locker.

I could take comfort in the fact Beau took his grades very seriously and would want to give as professional and well-planned a presentation as possible, but this was so last minute. And what if Beau didn’t care one iota about our presentation topic? That I would not stand for.

I could see library stickers on most of the books, some of which were in rather shabby condition.

I felt my heart give a painful lurch in my chest.

Beau suddenly gave a polite little wave, and I felt myself make a noise of surprise when I looked around and saw Mom standing there in the driveway, tapping the car window with a finger, a delirious smile on her face.

The other hand was covering the eyes, blocking out the explosion of bold colors covering the rest of the canvas and dripping down around the person like rivulets of water.

The car ride was less than ten minutes, but I felt myself growing apprehensive when Beau turned a corner and all the houses lining the streets started getting a lot bigger.

Ultimately it wasn’t too much of a surprise when Beau pulled up into the driveway of a house that could've graced the cover of some gaudy architectural magazine.

The house before me was done in a stylishly dark stucco color, with the same immaculate lawn and what looked like a lighted path leading up to the front door.

It set the precedent for how future presidents of Gallaudet would be chosen and let students finally have their say.

You're so stupid, Maya, I thought the moment I realized I’d been unconsciously leaning toward Beau, trying to inhale more of his enticing scent.

I didn't really have to go to the bathroom—the bathroom here was just as nice if not nicer than Nina’s with the fancy towels and decorative soaps—but I needed the few minutes to snap myself out of this weird stupor I was caught in.

One of the students who organized the protest was being interviewed, along with an esteemed Deaf actress who'd received an honorary degree from Gallaudet, and then the hearing president whose election caused the initial uproar.

One of the students who organized the protest was being interviewed, along with an esteemed Deaf actress who'd received an honorary degree from Gallaudet, and then the hearing president whose election caused the initial uproar.

I was so used to Beau becoming flushed all the time that it came as a surprise when his face went ashen instead.

Beau jumped on my words like they were a lifeline, nodding eagerly, and he said, “...be back soon,” to Dr. Watson.
“...safe,” Dr. Watson said to Beau, and I imagined his voice must’ve sounded cold with the suddenly austere expression on his face.