Status: Finished, yo

Not a Sound

The Tempest

I don't want to go by the band room, so I hover by the hallway like a leaf tumbling in the wind until the trumpet-boy finds me. I wasn't particularly being noticeable, but he sees me anyway.

Here for lunch? he asks.

I nod.

You know, I still don't know your name, he says. You've only signed it to me.

I smile wryly. He loops his arm in mine like he did before and I quickly sign my name to him.

He watches my hand intently and purses his lips. Aria? he asks finally.

I stare at him, surprised, and he grins. I decided I'd learn some sign language. I spent yesterday learning the alphabet. I'm not too good yet, though.

Something warms in my heart and I become acutely aware of the warmth of his skin. His arm is lean and strong in mine. I almost blush and look away, but I give a simple motion to him. What's your name? I sign "name" to him spelling it out.

You're going to laugh, he says.

I won't. I somehow feel freer signing to him.

He signs back to me, slow and careful. I watch his hands form the signs that I had been doing all my life. It somehow feels like the starting of a connection, like fibers of a rope stringing together between us.


Oswald? I repeat back to him.

He blushes. My friends call me Ozzy. I'm named after my grandfather. He was a strong man, but his name is a tad bit outdated.

I smile. It's a great name. I sign slowly so he can understand.

He throws his head back and I know he's laughing. If you say so, he says. Now, where do you want to eat today?