Quiescence

Tell me everything Sonnet signs, wagging her pale, slender fingers back and forth from her lips, her signs bouncier than ever.

It’s nothing My hands explode in her attentive face as I force the word ‘nothing’ at her.

I shrug; trying to shatter the world I want access to so badly. She prods, and prods. And prods. Until I break into a blissful heap of rose petals and everything nice.

Druce, I need the keys back to the Arctic, I’m going out tonight I sufficiently flash the words at him, trying to look irreproachable. Barely looking up from his phone, he signs, Hah – good one. I kidnap the keys lying on his thigh and tap the bottom of his chin blithely.
“Thanks hun. By the way, the blonde was cute. Maybe she’s one of my kind”
“One of your kind?”
“Yeah, deaf. Any hearing girl would listen to one sentence come out of you and either convulse right on the spot or possibly consider going deaf,” I deadpan, a grin tugging at my lips.
“Very, very funny.”
Douchebag I sign, before flipping his phone over in his hands and rushing up to my room. That was our relationship for you. Gloriously pathetic.

A roseate glow spreads along my walls, flowing from my window. The cherry blossom kissed the surface of my window, consistently casting a pink effulgence throughout the room. It made everything look amply pleasant. I finger through a collage of floral garments (being best-dressed and all, kind of gives you a reputation to uphold) and satisfy on a strapless sundress. I tie my weary locks into a side braid pin a flower to hide my breakout on the side of my face. I find so often that simplicity and beauty are the same thing. I sit cross-legged in the middle of my floor, and then lean down so my flustered cheek presses against the shag. I feel the vibrations of Druce’s guitar and beam ardently. I don’t recon I have a familiar sound of home. But rather a familiar feeling.

One New Message: Laci Haviland: My dearest classmate, is Victoria’s a suitable choice?

I smile at his attempt at sophistication. Oh Laci, I think. Sophistication is a virtue only some posses, it isn’t something you can master. I reply in an equally foolish manner and can’t help but feel giddy at the thought of us eating dinner together in a little café in the middle of town. He respectfully complies when I tell him we’ll be taking two separate cars.
Oh I understand. You just don’t want me to see the squalor you drive in. See you at seven

What a gentleman.

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Victoria’s sits snugly in between a horse supplies store and a moderately rowdy tavern. It’s the only restaurant in Oxford with a cobblestone path leading right up to it’s door encrusted with swirls and boughs of metal that loop around the spiraled handle. Victoria was the kind of chef you wouldn’t care if she dropped your food all over her creaky, polished floor. You’d stand right up and say, “Here let me lick my soup off the floor, even between the cracks and everything”. It was just that good. She was an ex-white house cook and she was probably one of the most authentic people I know. To put it simply, I know Holden Caulfield would’ve approved of Victoria.

“You look beautiful”, Laci gushed quietly as he pulled out my chair for me. The edge of the dainty tablecloth brushes against my thighs, sprinkled with goose bumps. I’m just about to bring down my hand from my chin as to sign, “Thank You”, and then I remember what a dirty, deceiving, vulgar liar I am. Or rather a stunning, talented, optimistic actress I am. Yeah, that’s it.
“Thank you!” I slip out, my accent thick on my tongue, bringing the rotten taste of remorse along with it.
“So, Evan. Tell me what made you transfer to OHS. I’m familiar with your brother, Druce. We played lacrosse together last season. I was just wondering why he was here and you were off hiding somewhere.”

Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh. He knows. He knows I’m lying and this whole date was just a guilt trip to make me feel bad about lying about being hearing.
Laci coolly sips on his water, his eyes searching mine questioningly.
“I went to a school for the dea- I mean gifted. I went to a school for the gifted for a few years but then I decided I wanted to be like everyone else, so I transferred to Oxford. I love it, so far. My best friend goes here so it’s… um… really nice to have some familiar faces.”
“Ah, no need to be nervous, Evan. The entire lacrosse team is already talking about the ‘stunning girl with the great sense of style’.” He leans forward as he says this, his breath warm and his intentions palpable.
“Hah, oh really now? I’m surprised the lacrosse team has the word style in their oh-so-impressive vocabulary.”
“Hey, watch it now. Okay, maybe I added in that last part. You do look stunning, though.” His lips were so easy to read; it was uncanny. Victoria comes out to take our order, and greats me with a warm smile as a touch of familiarity crosses her expression.
“I’ll just have your soup, Victoria. Thank you.” I rub my hands together under the table, unable to get rid of the distasteful nervous habit. Laci orders – I kid you not – the platter of chocolate crepes, or so I think, unable to get a clear view of his mesmerizing lips.
“Soup? Soup as in…. soup?”
“Laci, if there’s one thing you need to know about me, I guarantee I’m the pickiest person you’ll ever meet. Did you just order an entire platter of chocolate crepes for dinner?”
“That’s beside the point. Go ahead, shoot.”
“Well, for starters, I don’t like crepes. I absolutely despise bread, cheese, and pizza. I think chips and pretzels are the most atrocious things to ever graze my taste buds, and I cannot stand bacon.” I flip my braid behind my curved shoulder nonchalantly as I carefully place my words.
“That’s it, I can’t marry you anymore. Not with this whole hate crime against bacon and all.” I start to giggle, and it starts to develop into a full out calamity until I look up to catch Laci’s vigilant stare.
“What?” I say, out of breath.
“Your laugh – it’s about the most delightful thing I think I’ve ever heard.”

In that moment I finally realized there was an entire part of me even I hadn’t ascertained. It took me seventeen years to realize I’ve never even heard my own laugh before. Nothing, besides hearing, had ever been omitted from me, but rather hidden. And this boy, this snarky, cunning, peculiar boy, was the first person to uncover the uncensored truth about Evangeline.

Dinner was filled with more banter, rants, laughter followed by admirable stares, and bundles of compliments effortlessly floating into my conscience. By nine, I reluctantly walked out the door, my hand light and gratifying in his. He walked me to my car, opened my door for me, and then kissed the palm of my trembling hand before letting it fall from his grasp. He stood on the cobblestone in his sports jacket, his eyes gleaming even brighter than that first day on the path. And unbelievable sense of serenity flooded the scene, overbearing us with the waves of tranquility that crashed upon us, drowning us in the moment. The hum of the engine fell into sync with the rest of the bustling downtown, and I turned my head to see Laci, still on the cobblestone, waiting for our eyes to lock so he could wave. I lift my hand off of the steering wheel to acknowledge everything he had done for me tonight, until my heart stopped.

My lungs ceased.

My soul numbed.

My face tingled.

My body collapsed to a heap of hollowness as my Arctic flew through the night, soaring above what was left of reality.

It came to rest, a crumpled, distorted, catastrophic rest fifty feet from where Laci stood. An SUV lies next to me, their driver in a tizzy.

I drift off into the harmony of sirens.

But before I leave, before I leave everything, I laugh, pathetically.

After all, it is the most delightful thing in the world.