Nobody, apart from Nina, seemed interested in getting to know me. I repeatedly told myself this was a good thing—Nina was great, so what did it matter? But it stung more than I wanted to acknowledge. I didn’t know if the communication barrier made people uncomfortable around me or if I had the words GO AWAY stamped across my forehead in flashing neon lights, but the rest of my classmates kept their distance.

Nina started picking up signs the more time we spent together at lunch or during downtime in class. She wasn’t fluent by any means, but we could hold mini conversations. Nina was without a doubt my first hearing friend in years, something I previously thought impossible. Not to mention it was easier than I thought telling her about Connor and his CF when she’d politely asked why he was on oxygen. She’d just squeezed my arm and told me how great it was I looked after him, no sign of pity anywhere.

And then there was Beau.

That day during the first week of school when he started signing to me had just been the beginning. Every other day or so he would have a few new signs for me, asking things like YOUR HOMEWORK HARD? or SLEEP GOOD?

I would correct him if he signed something wrong—he usually did—and never gave more than a one-or two-word response. I’m sure my facial expressions were never that enthusiastic when I was signing back, but that never seemed to deter him.

I saw enough of Beau on a daily basis that I had formed a pretty good picture of his life. Beau was Engelmann’s golden boy with all his student council work and academic achievements, and he definitely knew it. He even had this “cool guy” way of sitting in class with his right leg stretched out in front of him, leaning back in his chair.

His world and my own belonged in two different solar systems. That’s why I couldn’t help but feel I was some sort of charity case—a good line for his resume or some essay for college applications. Look how awesome I am helping a Deaf classmate!

One day toward the end of September, I returned from the bathroom after Historical Literature, a class I shared with Beau, and found him talking with Kathleen. They were just a few feet away, and because Kathleen had her back to me I couldn’t see her response to Beau’s question of, “Then why . . . Maya like to . . . back?”

I went marching over to them, peeved Beau wanted to talk about me when I wasn’t present.

WHAT’S UP? I signed to Kathleen, raising my eyebrows.

Beau offered a HELLO in sign, but I ignored him, waiting on Kathleen.

HE ASK WHY YOU NOT SIGN WITH HIM, she finally signed to me, looking away from Beau.