I took in several deep breaths as I forced myself to click on the email. Once the words settled the right way on the screen, I carefully read and reread the email. I started mouthing the words as I read, trying to process the information.

“Well?” Beau said when I finally tore my gaze from my phone.

“They want to interview me.”

Even if I were able to hear my own voice, I know my words would’ve sounded funny coming out of my mouth. That was a sentence I’d never said or signed before. My first round of filling out job applications, and already I got a response asking for an interview.

WONDERFUL, Beau signed to me, followed by a, YAY!

When I didn’t sign anything back, Beau’s excited face became concerned, and he reached over to curl his hand around my own, signing, YOU OK?

SURPRISE, I signed honestly. DON’T KNOW IF I . . .

When I just lamely gestured to my left ear, Beau caught on to my line of thinking and signed, DOESN’T MATTER.

Actually, in some cases being Deaf kind of did matter.

EMAIL THEM, Beau signed, gesturing to my phone. SAY YES.

I WILL, I signed, and because it was going to be impossible to hide, I added, NERVOUS.

WHY? Beau signed, looking confused.

“Sometimes it can be hard getting an interpreter on short notice,” I said. “And they can be kind of expensive too.”

NO WORRY, Beau assured me without missing a beat.

THANK YOU, I signed back as I chewed on my lip.

“Interviews . . . not . . . big deal,” Beau said, using his voice. “You’ll . . . fine. They’ll find . . . interpreter too.”

I hope, I thought, as I started tapping out my reply to the Steaming Bean. As long as they were willing to meet with me in the afternoon once I was finished with school, there shouldn’t be a problem.

On the other hand, I knew there was no possibility of my getting through this interview without an interpreter. And I doubted Kathleen would be willing to spend her evenings and weekends with me too. Interpreting a job interview wasn’t exactly a part of her job description.

My fingers faltered as I started to worry that I hadn’t thought this through.

Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

At a few weeks shy of eighteen, I’d sat through so many hearing tests over the past nearly five years as doctors tried to determine the severity of my hearing loss, I could almost administer one to myself.

You spend fifteen minutes in a soundproof booth with a clicker you’d press anytime you heard any of the range of sounds the audiologist looped into the ear pieces plugged up to both your ears. If there wasn’t a clicker, you got to raise your hand instead.