Fly With Me

Juliet kissed back at first. I wasn’t sure what to think about it, as I didn’t feel any sparks. She was my best friend, and it felt a little bit like I was kissing my sister. She pushed me lightly away, looking at me with watery eyes. She shook her head, I am sorry. I do not, she paused, I do not like you that way. She shifted herself off of me, putting her face in her hands.

I ran my hand through my hair. While it was a nice kiss, she wasn’t the one meant for me. Any weird, romantic feelings I’d felt toward her were gone, seeing as that proved they were false. I loved Juliet, but she was my best friend and only my best friend. Now, everything was cleared up. I tapped her shoulder, beckoning for her to look up at me. When she did, I said, I am sorry.

She smiled weakly, To be honest, I am glad you did that. I thought I had feelings for you. Turns out I do not, thankfully, she felt the same way.

Me too, I said, I do not either. Can we just forget about this?

She nodded, Of course. I am tired anyway. Goodnight, Nick.

I waved at her as I watched her wander towards the bunks. I stayed up for a little while longer, attempting to figure out what she’d previously told me. I wanted to give her a normal life, and being my best friend wasn’t very normal. I wanted to her to hear, and I was willing to pay any amount of money to get that to happen. But, for now, I’d just have to convince her to wear her hearing aids.

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As fans lined up outside the venue, I took Juliet out to meet a few. Naturally, they all let out piercing screams. Juliet was lucky she couldn’t hear it. My brothers, as well as the rest of the band, came out with us. People were waving signs, jumping, hyperventilating, crying, screaming…

Juliet and I held hands, only it was more of my leading her around. We walked up to a group of girls, who were making it painfully obvious that they were trying to be nonchalant. I saw that everyone else had the same idea, and we were all separated. “Hello,” Juliet said. She said the next part slowly, as if unsure, “Are you fans of Nick?”

They nodded vigorously, “Yes!” they all seemed to say at once.

“I am sorry, I can not understand you,” Juliet said, still slowly, “Can you please not all speak at once?” I was impressed with her speech because she usually used ASL around me. School must have been doing her well.

“We are fans,” one of the girls said, speaking like Juliet was thick in the head. I tried not to lose my composure. It really bothered me when people did that.

“This is my best friend, Juliet,” I said loudly. She was wearing her hearing aids today, and she could pick up loud sounds. Hopefully, she would hear me for the first time tonight.

Juliet nodded, though I knew she didn’t completely comprehend. “I hope you all have fun.”

We had similar conversations with other fans, and I got the hint that Juliet didn’t want to share her disability. I didn’t say anything, just acted as if she was being normal. After all, this was very mundane for me.

To be nice and to show my affection to her, I kissed Juliet’s cheek right before I went onstage. She blushed and looked down, and I knew she was embarrassed. Right before I was raised, I sighed to her, Tonight.

She shook her head, No.

Joe caught on and whispered to me, “Do you like Juliet?”

I told him I didn’t, and that it was just a little game we were playing. He thought Juliet should come on stage as well, but she refused, and our mom was on her side. What Mom said, went.

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Juliet was a writer, and that was very new to me. I found her tattered notebook on the kitchen counter, and saw that pages were filled up with her neat script. I didn’t read anything, as that would be an invasion of her privacy, but I was quite curious. She walked into the living room, perceptibly looking for something. I held the notebook up, raising my eyebrows.

She blushed, Did you read anything?

I shook my head, I did not know you wrote.

Well, I do. If I can not hear the world around me, I can imagine it.

I smiled, glad she was looking at the positive side of things again. She’d been depressed before, and I knew it was entirely possible for that to happen again – she had a good reason to be, too. What do you write about?

She told me about her latest idea, a Jewish woman and a Nazi man falling in love during World War II. I thought the idea was brilliantly cliché, and told her I couldn’t wait until it was published. I didn’t know if she was any good, but I would assume so. She told me she’d let me read it when she had it finished, and I looked forward to that.

I took my cell phone out of my pocket, going to a new text message. It was common for me to want to text her instead of sign to her. Let’s do something tomorrow.

After a few seconds of silence, Juliet’s phone vibrated. She giggled when she saw it was from me, And what do you propose we do?

I layed down on the couch, staring at the ceiling as I thought of what we could do.