For who?
Jennie kept rambling beside me, something about how Alex was supposed to help too, but her voice blurred into background noise. My heart was thudding too loudly for me to catch the words.
And then—the memory hit.
Weeks ago.
The diner.
Me signing thank you, small, soft, because speaking was impossible. And him, tilting his head, repeating it back like he understood.
I thought it was luck. A coincidence.
But now—
He knew.
My chest tightened. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t fit.
Joshua didn’t do things like that. He didn’t learn new languages, new ways of communicating, especially not for someone like me.
So why was he learning to sign?
Jennie nudged me lightly. “You okay?”
I blinked, forcing myself to nod, to offer her a small, practised smile.
But my mind stayed on the field, on him. Every time his hands moved, every time he ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
Joshua Lockhart was learning to sign. And I didn’t know whether to feel grateful…or terrified.
I tapped Jennie’s sleeve lightly, still trying to keep my face neutral, my heartbeat steady. She turned to me, pencil still in hand.
I lifted my hands, hesitant, and signed slowly:For whom?
Jennie blinked, mouth opening, then closing again, as if she didn’t know how to answer. Before she could, Alex beat her to it. He didn’t even look up from his sketch, voice casual. “A girl.”
A girl.
My stomach dropped.
Jennie shot him a quick glare. “Alex—”
“What?” He finally looked up, confused. “It’s true. He said he’s doing it for a girl.”
My chest squeezed tight, breath caught halfway.
A girl.
I turned my head toward the field again, my pen slack in my hand. Joshua, jogging across the grass, focused, steady. He didn’t even glance my way this time.
For agirl.
I didn’t know why that stung. It shouldn’t have. It wasn’t any of my business.
Still, the thought crawled through me. Some faceless girl who must mean enough for him to try.
To learn.
