And Beau had this awkward smile breaking out across his face by the time I finished speaking, and that was even more confusing than the whole Boulder thing a minute ago. He seemed . . . almost calm. Like that was what he’d been expecting me to say.

I KNOW, he signed. AND I SORRY.

“. . . shouldn’t . . . done that,” he continued using his voice. “. . . thought . . .”

I SEE NOW YOU NOT NEED MY HELP, he finished in sign with a shrug.

NO, I agreed in sign. BUT . . . WANT YOU.

That I could at least be honest about.

Beau started getting pink in the face as he began to sign in a rush, something like, BEFORE I THINK WE NOT . . . BECAUSE YOU DEAF AND . . .

I stared at him blankly while he struggled to find the words he was looking for. It looked like he was giving some huff as he threw up his hands and settled for signing, HEARING LIFE NOT PERFECT.

SAME WITH DEAF, I signed, nodding along.

YOU CONTINUE SUPPORT ME, Beau signed next. I SHOULD, SAME.

I felt myself begin to smile despite wanting to keep my cool and collected façade going.

WHO TELL YOU THAT? I signed, but I had this feeling I already knew who was responsible.

N-I-N-A, Beau answered, and I had to smother a laugh.

Thanks for the help, Nina, I thought.

HAPPY YOU UNDERSTAND NOW, I signed to Beau.

YES, Beau signed in agreement. SORRY, AGAIN. I . . .

It took him a moment before he signed, CAN WE START NEW?

“Sorry, what?”

Beau turned on his heel and walked down the hallway, disappeared around the corner, and then came walking back toward me. When he reached me, he held out a hand for me to shake, a pleasant smile on his face.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Beau . . . hearing, but . . . learning.”

I shook his hand, finding it impossible not to smile now.

NICE T-O MEET YOU, I signed. MY NAME M-A-Y-A. DEAF AND HAPPY.

This was weird, but I got it. A fresh start here wasn’t such a bad idea. Time to throw out all the misconceptions about hearing and Deaf people and start over.

“Walk . . . to class?” Beau asked, offering me a hand.

“Sure,” I said, lacing my fingers through his and holding on tight. “Tell me about this English degree you want.”

Beau began to sign with one hand as we set off down the hallway, telling me about the literature program he was interested in and how he’d been thinking more and more about becoming a teacher since I’d told him he’d make a good one the night of his party for his acceptance into Yale.

GOOD, I signed to him. YOU SMART. MAKE WONDERFUL TEACHER.

Beau grinned, showing off the dimples again. THANK YOU, he signed back, and then a sudden grimace tugged at his face. “My dad . . . not . . . understanding.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve got this,” I said. “It might not be easy, but not much is.”