Beau’s car was the nicest one out here, and I was hesitant to get in for fear of somehow accidentally ruining the leather seats I could see through the tinted windows. Whatever Beau’s dad did for a living obviously came with a hefty paycheck.

DON’T WORRY, Beau signed, looking my way over the roof of his car. DRIVE SAFE.

“That’s not the problem,” I said through pursed lips. “It’s this stupid presentation.”

Beau gave a nod of agreement, and I only caught a few words of what he was saying which was something like, “. . . we can . . . your idea . . .”

I didn’t bother with a response and got into the passenger seat of the car, carefully buckling myself in. Rather than dump a pile of questions on me when I’d sent a text informing her of the change in plans, Mom seemed thrilled I was working together with another “friend” for my school project.

My plan was to force Beau to stay put in the driveway while I ran inside to grab my laptop which currently had the PowerPoint presentation on DPN saved to the desktop. Then we would head straight to the library.

At a stoplight a block from my house, I peeked into the backseat to finish out my inspection of Beau’s car. Somehow, I was not surprised to see the gigantic stack of books taking up most of the space. I could see library stickers on most of the books, some of which were in rather shabby condition. Before I turned back around to face forward, I caught a couple of titles like The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway and Brave New World by Aldous Huxley.

“I like . . . read,” Beau said when he saw me eyeing his collection of books.

“I’ve noticed,” I said with a tiny smile.

We pulled into my driveway then, and Beau looked over at me after he parked the car.

MY MOTHER . . . Beau signed, glancing at his books in the rearview window. SHE ALWAYS READ.

LIKE? I signed curiously.

When he finger spelled the words Harry Potter, I signed, YAY! because who didn’t love Harry Potter? I’d finally found something Beau and I could agree on wholeheartedly.

“We went . . . library . . .” Beau continued, using his voice. “She loved books.”

“And you do too,” I said, speculating.

YES, Beau signed with a nod.

“I bet that makes her happy.”

“. . . wouldn’t know.”

Beau slid the keys from the ignition, turning them over in his hand. I had to lean closer to lip-read the rest of what he wanted to say.

“She’s been dead . . . long time.”