It’d taken a long while, but somehow, I’d developed genuine feelings for the hearing boy standing right in front of me. He was learning my language and was nothing but encouraging when it came to my dreams—he’d probably been the most excited about my acceptance letter from Cartwright.

I didn’t want to think I’d been wrong and that maybe Beau didn’t actually like the fact I was Deaf at all. Except what else was I supposed to think when I was holding all this information about cochlear implants and a doctor’s business card?

Why would Beau ever want me to change this quintessential part of myself?

“I don’t want this,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “I don’t need it.”

Beau went from looking confused to gobsmacked in a heartbeat and started to speak, but I tried to raise my voice to cover his.

“Why can’t you understand I’m happy being Deaf?”

“. . . understand, but . . . thought . . .”

“No, I really believe you weren’t thinking.”

I wanted to throw the stupid envelope with all that CI information at Beau and storm back inside. It took real effort to stay put and speak my mind, even if this was about to ruin whatever had been developing between me and Beau for months now.

“I don’t want your pity, Beau. I’m not some poor, helpless little girl who needs to be saved. So if that’s all you have for me, please just go now.”

It was impossible to tell how much time passed while I stood there by the front steps outside my house waiting for some kind of a response from Beau. He looked like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, unsure of what to say to me.

When the moment stretched on between us with seemingly no end in sight, I gave up.

FINE, I signed, then followed up with an, ALL DONE.

I had no idea what I was all done with, but I was choosing to leave it at that.

Beau didn’t stop me when I turned on my heel and went up the front steps back into the house, leaving him and his birthday “gift” behind.

Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

I was kind of surprised it took Mom as long as it did to come creeping into my room when I didn’t surface after my alarm went off Sunday morning. I had my blankets pulled up high over my head and didn’t budge until Mom put her hand to my side and squeezed.

WHAT HAPPENED? she signed when I ripped the blankets back and gave her a look.

She’d turned the lights on so I got a good view of the expression on her face, which was somehow both concern and exasperation.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I finally said.

YESTERDAY, she signed in explanation. BIRTHDAY. WHAT HAPPENED?