‘Serious?’
Denver looks completely stoic. ‘Yes, serious.’
Well, fuck.
I don’t have Lexi’s number, and I’m not about to call the interpreting agency to try to find her, and I can’t ask Dex for it, so that leaves me one choice: I send her a follow request on her Instagram.
My thumb feels heavy as it hits the Follow button, and then I turn my phone screen off and throw it across the couch. It hits the cushion and slides down, toppling over with the screen up.
Taunting me.
Mocking me.
I grab one of the couch pillows, shove my face into it, and scream.
I miss living in an all-Deaf space where I can be as loud as I want without terrifying the neighbors because while I could barely hear them, I am perfectly aware of how loud Deaf shouts can be.
That’s yet another thing I can’t help but wonder if Dex will be able to deal with. Most hearing people think Deaf homes are quiet. But they are not.
So if this thing happens between us for real—if there issomething here—will that matter? Will he get pissed off and resent me for when I forget to turn things off or keep the TV volume or music low?
Will I resent him for forgetting I can’t hear him if he shouts for me or defaults to speaking over sign?
Fuck, I hate having to ask these questions, but then again, every time I’ve assumed one thing about him, he’s proven me wrong. Maybe it’s time to have faith in him.
He’s earned it.
He’s been…I can’t say perfect. I’m allergic to that word. But he’s certainly been something. He feels like an addiction—an obsession. And not just his body, though I can’t deny how much I crave every part of him.
But it’s more than that.
Late at night, when I’m feeling at my most vulnerable, I close my eyes and think about what life might be like a year from now with him. Or five years. Or ten.
I think of a shared house and easy touches. I think of coming home to him after a bad day and how I know he’ll look at me and understand and not have to ask what I need. And I want to believe I can do the same for him, even if it’s something I’m not great at. But I can learn to be. I think.
For him.
My phone screen lights up with a notification, and my heart leaps into my throat. For a moment, I can’t move, and then I snatch it from the cushion, and my fingers shake as I swipe it open.
There are three notifications. She accepted my follow, she followed me back, and there’s a message waiting for me in my inbox.
Shit shit shit shit.
This would be normal if Dex were Deaf. The community isjust…like this. We make friends with each other’s friends when we feel like it. Communication is different for us.
But Dex comes from another world, and while Lexi might be an interpreter, she’s still hearing. I don’t know how much time she spends in the community. I don’t know if the first thing she did was text him and let him know what I did.
But I have to be brave, goddamn it. I have never been less than a straight A student my entire career. I’m not about to let that change now. Especially when Dex is involved.
I tap the icon and open my messages.
Lexi:Stalking me?
Me:Need to talk. You free?
Lexi:In person or here?
Me:Either.
