I scan the board again, feeling panic build inside of me just as my eyes settle on the decaf Catty Chai.
I point to it, and Dex laughs. Without my hearing aids, I can only just make out the sound of it—kind of a faint rumble—but I can feel it where he’s pressed against me too, and Istruggle not to lean in and make a scene in front of all these seemingly nice, innocent people.
The couple in front of us are finally done ordering and move aside. Dex doesn’t ask, just guides me to the counter, where we face another man who looks quite a lot like the guy at the front counter, only older and not scarred. At least, not on his face. His hands look like they’ve taken a beating.
I wonder if he signs too.
Dex seems to have the same idea because he raises his hands and asks for his drink in ASL.
The man’s brows go up, but he nods. ‘What you want?’ he asks me.
‘Decaf Catty Chai,’ I sign at Deaf speed, testing him.
He nods and puts it in. Impressive. One more safe space for me and my friends to go is on the list. I make a mental note to tell Robbie about this when I catch Dex writing in his notebook again.
I elbow him. ‘What grade?’
He grins and ticks his finger back and forth at me again like I’m some naughty child. Though I don’t actually think I’d mind being a bad boy.
Or maybe even better, hisgoodboy.
I shove those thoughts away and pull out my card with shaking hands to swipe it at the till. The guy with Percy on his name badge hands me the receipt.
Archie. Milo. Percy.
Whoarethese guys?
There’s something about them that feels odd and dangerous. Like this café should be one of those mattress stores the Mob uses as a front for other illegal things.
‘He doesn’t look like a Percy,’ Dex signs small between us so only I can see.
I snort. ‘I know. They look like…’ My fingers hover.
‘Contract killers,’ Dex signs, then laughs again. ‘Can you imagine?’
In this town? Not likely. The worst person to ever live here was Leaf’s aunt, and she’s long gone. I can’t imagine contract killers living in this town and opening up a cat café.
I mean, who the fuck would come up with that?
As we wait for our coffee, I tug Dex over to a bench. Through the door in front of us, I can see into the cat lounge. There are no kittens visible, though I think I can see a black-and-white cat sleeping on top of one of the many cat trees.
‘You have pets?’
Dex looks startled by the question. ‘You’ve been to my house.’
‘Three years ago,’ I remind him.
He flushes like he forgot. ‘No pets. Maybe I’ll get a cat today.’
I grimace. ‘Cats hate me.’
His eyes go wide. ‘What? Why would you bring me here if cats hate you?’
I shrug. ‘Seemed cute.’
‘You’re ridiculous,’ he signs, but dear god, there is so much affection in the movement of his hands and the look on his face. If I had permission right now, I would kiss the shit out of him.
I glance at his little book and then meet his gaze.
