And then Beau was suddenly there too, his smile as genuine as ever as he introduced himself to Connor. Beau wasn’t sneaky as he took in Connor’s oxygen tank, and my heart skipped a beat in anticipation of the inevitable barrage of questions about to be thrown at me, but that didn’t come either.

Beau turned to me and said, “Didn’t think . . . come.”

“We went out to get pizza,” I said quickly. “Thought we’d stop by.”

Wasn’t like I was going to tell Beau I’d come all the way out here with the express intent of running into him or Nina.

Connor whipped around at this, looking beyond thrilled. “We’re . . . pizza?!”

It looked like Beau and Nina both laughed at Connor’s enthusiasm.

LATER, I signed at Connor, and I watched him give a huff and then dive into the candy bowl on the table.

“So . . .” I did a quick glance over all the brochures and announcements their table had put out, ones with lots of colors and stock photo teens with overly enthusiastic smiles. “What is it that you do exactly?”

“Everything,” Nina answered, and she laughed again.

Beau waved at me for my attention and started to say, “Student council, DECA, sometimes speech . . . debate.”

I was a bit stunned.

Beau was an honors student in advanced placement classes, not to mention the student body president, and he voluntarily took on all these extra clubs? That sounded horrific to me.

WHY? I signed back, my eyes going wide.

I LIKE STAY BUSY, Beau signed with a shrug.

I mean, so did I, but geez.

“Don’t forget . . . !” Nina added, grabbing a clipboard and passing it over to me.

It was a pink piece of paper decorated with a bunch of balloons, the words Join the Homecoming Committee written across the top in bold letters. I felt myself start to grimace, not surprised to see Beau’s name toward the top of the paper.

What didn’t this guy do? I wanted to be annoyed by it, but I was a little impressed too.

I immediately thrust the clipboard back at Nina. “Dances aren’t really my thing.”

“No?” Nina said, frowning, and then a look of understanding zipped across her face. “Sorry . . . forget music . . .”

I tried not to sigh here, biting down on my lip. I understood where Nina was coming from, but it wasn’t as if music was something off limits to Deaf people. A lot of Deaf people enjoyed music, myself included.

“I like music,” I said to Nina. “I can’t hear it, but I can still feel it if the beat is strong enough. I’m just not good at dancing.”

SAME, Beau signed, and I smothered a laugh.

Beau seemed a little too uncoordinated with his uneven walk to be much of a good dancer.

“. . . still . . . fun night,” Nina said, returning the clipboard to the table.

“Sure,” I agreed halfheartedly.