I watched Dana bustling about the kitchen as she made us what looked like a tray of celery sticks with peanut butter and raisins, and I imagined that she was humming some sort of tune while she worked. Maybe some Disney song. Dana just looked like one of those people that was simply happy.

As much as I was starting to feel a twinge of disappointment that Beau and I weren’t going to be working alone together, I was glad he had Dana.

We both thanked her when she brought the tray of celery sticks and peanut butter over along with glasses of water. She wished us luck on our project before heading back to finish up the dishes in the kitchen.

“Okay,” I said to Beau once I got the PowerPoint pulled up on my laptop. “Here’s what we have so far.”

The presentation had about twelve slides so far and contained the bulk of information Nina and I pulled together about DPN, mostly from online sources. To the rest of the world, I doubted DPN was significant enough to make even a tiny blip in history, but there was so much more to it than that. It was a turning point in the Disability Rights movement and let the world see just how driven and capable Deaf people are. It set the precedent for how future presidents of Gallaudet would be chosen and let students finally have their say.

Beau took his time examining each slide as I went through them. By the fifth slide he was leaning forward in his seat, a fascinated glint in his eyes as he held his chin in his hand. When we hit the end of the slideshow, Beau sat back, slapping a hand on his thigh.

“What do you think?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too anxious.

“Brilliant,” Beau said, giving a thumbs-up.

YAY, I signed, not sure of what else to sign or say.

“. . . there . . . news reports?” Beau asked, then signed, VIDEO, MAYBE?

DON’T KNOW, I signed back. Nina hadn’t seemed too concerned with getting anything other than the hard facts surrounding DPN. TRY Y-O-U-T-U-B-E.

Beau shrugged, absentmindedly munching on a celery stick as he leaned over to pull up YouTube on my laptop. He was signing something with his free hand, but I couldn’t even think to pay attention when I suddenly realized just how close he was sitting next to me.

Close enough that I could see he had a chicken pox scar by his left eye, that his hair was starting to curl just past his ears, and that he smelt strongly of some type of cinnamon spice. He was frowning in concentration as he clicked around on YouTube, but it wasn’t such a bad look on him. Cute even.

You’re so stupid, Maya, I thought the moment I realized I’d been unconsciously leaning toward Beau, trying to inhale more of his enticing scent.