But I had enough T-shirts stuffed in boxes filling up my new room at the moment so my response was to sign, NO, THANK YOU, with a shake of my head.

Beau bit his lip as Kathleen told him the message. He looked to Nina like he didn’t know what to do next.

Nina introduced Kathleen instead, and I caught a few words of what she was saying, like “interpreter” and “classes.”

“Oh,” Beau said. “That’s . . . cool.”

Watching him get all uneasy as his eyes darted back and forth from me to Kathleen was strange. It was clear he didn’t know who he should be talking to—me or her. This wasn’t the first time someone spoke to an interpreter instead of to me, like I wasn’t literally right in front of them and perfectly capable of being included in the conversation. But I had hoped I’d make it further into the day—preferably after first period—until it happened here.

HEY, I signed to Kathleen. ASSEMBLY ALL DONE? CLASS START NOW, RIGHT?

There were thundering footsteps shaking the bleachers as students scrambled their way out of the gym. First period had to be just minutes away from starting.

I was on my feet the second Kathleen signed, ALL DONE.

I made a sweeping gesture to let Nina know she was free to lead the way to first period. Nina waved to Beau as she grabbed her bag and Beau gave a halfhearted wave in return before we quickly exited the gym, using our elbows to get around a few people. Kathleen somehow fell behind us, and when she caught up out in the hallway she had that shirt Beau tried to give me a minute ago.

I raised an eyebrow in a silent question. What did she expect me to do with it?

NICE GIFT, Kathleen signed with one hand, holding out the T-shirt to me. HE LOOK LIKE NICE BOY.

Actually, Beau looked like a scared—albeit very tall—rabbit. I’d only signed nice to meet you and no, thank you to the guy, and he’d looked at me like I was speaking Klingon. Not a very nice feeling.

I took the T-shirt from Kathleen and made a mental note to stuff it in my backpack once I retrieved it from my locker. If Mom started up another box of donations to be taken to a thrift store while we were unpacking, I was going to toss the shirt into it.

Nina directed us to my first period class—AP Statistics—in the math wing. She hovered outside the doorway, looking apologetic.

I HAVE DIFFERENT CLASS NOW, Kathleen signed for Nina. I COME BACK WHEN CLASS ALL DONE, WALK WITH YOU NEXT CLASS.

OK, I signed, and because I didn’t want to come across as totally ungrateful I added, THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP.

“No problem,” Nina said, to me instead of to Kathleen.