I looked to Beau next and was a bit taken aback to see that he was smiling. When I signed, WHAT’S UP? at him, he just gave this casual shrug and signed back, NOTHING, and gave a cheesy thumbs-up.

I didn’t get the chance to push the issue further until class was over and I was powering down my laptop. It had been difficult to sit through three more presentations while wondering if my classmates were whispering about everything I threw at Jackson.

HEY, I signed, reaching out to grab Beau’s arm as he passed, backpack slung over one shoulder.

BAD PRESENTER? I signed when Beau turned to look at me, pointing back at myself.

NO, he signed quickly with a shake of his head. WONDERFUL.

SURE? I signed back, skeptical.

Beau took a step closer, and I chose to ignore the way my heart gave a stupid little stutter in my chest.

“They heard . . .” he said, pointing at me.

“They heard me?” I said, hoping I understood him correctly.

YES, Beau signed with another nod. THEY HEARD YOU.

Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

One week after the midterm showdown in Mr. Wells’ class, Kathleen caught up to me just as Mom was pulling into the pickup loop after school, eager to tell us about this group of Deaf teens getting together at a local coffee shop. Mom hadn’t hesitated telling Kathleen we’d be there, and now I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be ecstatic or terrified at the thought of meeting Deaf people my age for the first time since we moved here from New Jersey.

WHY YOU NERVOUS? Mom signed to me when she parked in front of the coffee shop where the group was supposed to be meeting. WONDERFUL YOU MEET MORE DEAF KIDS.

NOT NERVOUS, I signed back.

EXCITED? she asked next.

Mom seemed excited herself, despite the permanent look of exhaustion that had made itself at home on her pretty face since we moved here. There were a few more streaks of gray in her brown hair than I remembered too. How she’d been splitting her time working from home to be with Connor and going into her office was still unfathomable to me.

READY? Mom signed, pointing to the coffee shop.

YES, I signed, unbuckling my seatbelt.

The coffee shop was crowded for a Thursday night. The place was trendy with that locally owned feeling no Starbucks ever had, with lots of tables, couches, and old armchairs all over. If Connor were with us, he would’ve made straight for the giant checkers board along with the other games set on shelves in the corner.

Mom and I got in line and bought ourselves some hot tea and a cookie to share. Gathered around the one couch and the surrounding chairs by the front window were a handful of teens and two women I was willing to bet were members of this new Deaf group.