Your Voice

For our English Language class, Gemma and I get to pick the exact project we want to do over a range of subjects. They're fun ones, surprisingly. Our professor wants us to experience what he expects from future presentations, only their subject matters will be more serious. In the end we chose to do how text messaging has changed society and communication. Some other boys, however, got a subject on 'the F-word in films.' I'm not sure exactly where our teacher got these subjects but it's safe to say students were beginning to love the class.

Gemma asks where I want to meet that Monday because it's due by that Friday, and I quickly say her house. I definitely do not want her coming to mine and seeing how my parents are. I know her parents probably knew BSL, if they were alive when Gemma was deaf, and her brother knew it. Plus they put subtitles on the TV and my parents never did that. It was bad enough admitting that but for Gemma to actually see how my parents are would be flat out embarrassing.

She didn't notice my reluctance to go to my house though and easily agreed on hers. She even said she would text Dylan to bring something home for dinner since he didn't have school. At the mention of her brother, my cheeks burst into flame.

Every time I heard his name all I could do was blush, remembering when I was over there this weekend and walked into Dylan when he was wearing only a towel. And god he was so hot. That coupled with the fact water droplets were going down his chest? I was afraid I would faint. Which makes me feel really bad, because he's my new best friend's brother and because he's a bloke. I shouldn't feel that way about males, should I? That's what my parents would say, I think. That's what some of society says. It's scary for me to think about because I don't fully understand what's going on. I wish more than anything I had someone to talk to or someone who would give me advice. Unfortunately all I have is Gemma and I haven't decided if that's something I can address with her. Especially if it's her brother that confuses me.

The entire day, all I can think about is going to her house and seeing Dylan. I would probably blush like an idiot and sign shakily. He probably thought I was a fool, and so the last thing I wanted was to face him. But I knew I had to for the sake of our project.

At the end of the day, I've taken off my blazer and loosened my tie. Nearly everyone else looks like me, sleeves rolled to their elbows and most of the girls are starting to tug at their skirts and pull their hair into ponytails. I wonder if it's just me or if hating these uniforms is a universal thing.

I'd momentarily forgotten about my nerves for tonight, but when I saw Gemma waiting for me at my locker I remembered why I'd been on edge all day. My stomach twists in knots, something I don't understand, and I clutch my blazer tightly in my arms. I try to smile but I'm afraid it's obvious how forced it is, although Gemma doesn't mention it.

She signs, "We'll have to walk, sorry. But fortunately I don't think it'll rain until later this evening."

I nod, following her out of the school. Some of her friends stop us, talking to her with fast lips I can't read. They ignore me, though I didn't expect anything else. Until a boy named Chris stops us, timid smile on his lips. I huff mentally, wondering how popular Gemma suddenly was when the guy raises a hand and signs the letters, "H-I."

Gemma grins brightly as my own eyes widen; Chris had eaten lunch with us a few times and I'd seen him in the hallways, but I didn't know he knew BSL. If I had to guess, the way he was beaming meant he'd only learned the one word, and even then he only learned the letters. Still, I was impressed. I knew he had a crush on Gemma and this made it apparent.

"You know sign language?" Gemma asks, using her hands only for my benefit though I wouldn't contribute much to the conversation.

Chris shrugs his shoulders before saying, "Only those letters. I was thinking of learning more." I can read his lips because they're so plump and he makes them so obvious. I'm offended a bit that he's trying so hard because I'm here, but I let it pass because he's hearing and he couldn't possibly understand.

"That's awesome!" Gemma says, and then she goes off by saying more that I don't pay attention to. I completely zone out before she hits me in the shoulder, making me jump and look into her eyes. Gemma's cheeks are bright red, something I've never seen them before, as she signs hurriedly, "We can go now."

I follow her down the road, not knowing the way from school, and watch her carefully. She's got a little smile on her face, her cheeks are still red, and I swear there is a skip to her step. It takes me a minute to figure it out, but when I do I can't help the giant grin that spreads over my lips. I nudge her with my elbow, making her look at me curiously. When she notices my grin, she seems cautious, but I can't help the laugh that escapes my lips. I don't doubt it sounded like a giggle though.

"You like him, don't you?"

She blushes again, dumbly signing for me to 'shut the hell up,' and I laugh harder. I can feel the vibrations in my chest and I wonder what it sounds like to her, though I don't ask. I know I'm right about Chris, anyway. And I can't help but hope that maybe one day, she'll talk to me about it. Because then there was a possibility of me being able to talk to her about my feelings.

I think that's what I needed most right now.
~

As soon as we got to Gemma's house, we set to work. We'd been working for quite awhile, stopping an hour in to watch some TV show Gemma insisted she had to watch that lasted about thirty minutes. Then we went straight back to our power point and outline and so forth. It was boring work if we're being honest, and I didn't feel like finishing it today considering we still had four more days until it was due, but apparently Gemma was one of those people that liked to get things done as soon as they were assigned. I guess that did give us some time to revise it and make it perfect. Maybe Dylan would look it over.

I'm in the process of reading over an article when Gemma jumps from beside me. I look at her with wide eyes, wondering what caused her to do that, when I suddenly see her mouth moving. I'm stricken until Dylan walks through the entrance connecting the hall and living room. She must have heard him open the door, and for all I knew he called out. It makes me feel out of place, knowing the two had some sort of conversation which I couldn't be apart of, like I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere though because nine times out of ten, I am lost when it comes to hearing people.

Dylan waves to me as he set the bag of food down on the coffee table, signing over his shoulder he's going to get plates. Gemma slumps beside me, bringing my attention back to her where I was otherwise staring after her brother. Luckily, she didn't notice.

Gemma turns to me and smiles, motioning to her laptop. I quickly hand it over, watching as she bookmarks the article and then exits out of the internet. She shuts it down and smiles tiredly at me, running a hand through her messy hair.

She signs, "We can work on it more later, I'm knackered." And I have to agree; my eyes were beginning to burn from staring at the screen so long. For a second I'm actually glad Dylan showed up.

But then he comes back into the living room carrying three cans of coke and plastic plates, wearing a pair of chinos and a button-down tucked in, tie pulled loose after a hard day's work. He looks so good I'm grateful I'm sitting down, otherwise my knees would have buckled and the siblings would have found me odd. My stomach gets lodged in my throat as he sets our drinks and plates down, tugging even more at the tie before unbutton two buttons, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. Or I assume one did, from the way his mouth opened and closed and Gemma rested a hand against his bicep.

She looks at me out of the corner of her eye before signing with one hand, speaking at the same time, "Have a long day?"

"I'm bloody exhausted," Dylan signs and says, though he has a smile on his face so I don't worry too much. He continues saying, "I swear I was on the phone all hours of the day." His smile widens into a grin and now I'm staring at his lips, not because they are easy to read but because they're a nice shade of peach and I want to sink my teeth into them.

The irrational thought makes my cheeks ignite in flames; I think the blush covers my ears and my neck it's so hot. It's one thing to find him attractive in a towel, but a completely different thing to want to kiss him. I don't even know the guy! We've literally had one conversation maybe since we met. Plus he was four years older than! Not only that but he was a guy, can I stress that fact any more than I already have? I should shudder in disgust but instead, behind my closed eyelids, I imagine what I want. I've never even kissed a person before, that's how insane the thought is!

A gentle hand is on my shoulder, coaxing me to look up where I'd looked down in shame. Gemma sits there, her brow pinched together with a little line between the two. It's sort of cute in a way and I can't help but wonder if Dylan's eyebrows do the same thing. I blink to get the thoughts out of my head and luckily it works; I can't say the same for the blush on my cheeks. I wish I could control that.

"You alright?" She signs, not speaking like I expected. My eyes flick around the room to see Dylan's left. I wonder where he went. It was fairly late and he did say he had a long day, so it wouldn't surprise me if he went to bed. Which would be disappointing because then he wouldn't eat with us and I would have to walk home. "Kade," Gemma asks, bringing my attention back to her.

I nod, smiling lightly before signing, "Tired is all. Long day at school."

Gemma nods in understanding, signing back that she had one too and we could work on the project some more in our free period tomorrow. She motions to the plates of food and I follow behind her, smiling as I realize Dylan stopped for fish and chips. It was personally a favorite dish of mine, though I didn't tell many people that. They often looked at me weird but I don't see what the big deal is. It's the only thing I'll eat past the point of being full, which means I actually eat the amount of a normal person.

I plate the food and sit back, sipping at my coke before digging into my meal. I don't care if it's impolite to just ravish it, like I said this is most definitely my favorite food.

Dylan comes back into the room, surprising me. I'd thought he went to bed, but that was a stupid thought because there was an empty plate and coke sitting there. It seemed he'd gone to change, now wearing a pair of trackies and a t-shirt, hair messed up making me think he attempted to get the gel out without taking a shower. Although Dylan certainly looked good in his suit, I like him more like this. Comfortable and at home. It made my chest feel warm which in turn made me look down and blush like an idiot.

I should just go back to being a recluse and forget being friends with Gemma if this is going to continue.

Dylan takes the seat beside me, startling me a bit as I'd expected him to sit on the other side of Gemma. His sister doesn't seem surprised by this though so I pretend it doesn't bother me. (Even though his knee is touching my thigh and I don't know if I can eat the rest of my food.)

"Hope you like fish and chips," Dylan signs with one hand, not even looking at me as he opts to skip the plate and eats right out of the carton instead. I watch him for a few seconds before smiling to myself, setting my plate in my lap as I eat with a straight back, afraid of embarrassing myself somehow and making a mess with the crumbs. Why this family never ate at a table was unknown to me.

"Love it," I sign, chancing it and looking up at Dylan to smile. His caramel eyes flick to me before they do a double check, glancing down to my teeth I'd exposed. Feeling a bit self conscious, I close my mouth and give him a smile, feeling a blush spread across my cheeks before I duck back down to my food.

Dylan's elbow hits me in the arm, making me look up as he signs around his fish, "Great! I'll keep that in mind if you keep coming around."

I want to keep coming around.

We sit in silence for awhile; or so I assume, there's always the possibility that Dylan and Gemma are talking over my head and I don't know it. Almost self consciously, I look over to them, but they're focused on their food. I let out a little sigh, hoping it wasn't audible. I think I would have left and never come back if they were having a verbal conversation. It would remind me too much of home and I didn't need another set of people like my parents in my life. If anything I think that would make living much worse than it already is.

Dylan finishes first, which doesn't surprise me. He just sets his carton on the coffee table and goes to the TV, turning it on before grabbing his set of The Game of Thrones and popping in the second disk; I'm ecstatic. We'd watched the first episode when I was over here the day before, and I'd loved it. Although admittedly it was hard to follow, I managed perfectly fine and found myself falling for Daenerys and I hadn't even gotten started on her story. I had a feeling she would be my favorite character, without a doubt.

I settle down on the couch, having finished my entire plate. I know Dylan noticed but he didn't say anything, which I was both thankful for and disappointed in. I wanted him to talk to me, but instead he sat back and enjoyed the show. Gemma was bored from the beginning, I could tell, and halfway through the episode, she nodded off against my shoulder. I was a bit tense to be honest; no one had ever laid on me like that, her cheek pressed against my collarbone and forehead against my jaw. I could feel the length of her body against my arm, too, and I was tempted to snuggle her back. I've never actually cuddled with someone before, which is pretty sad now that I'm admitting it, but it's the truth. Even though she was asleep, I felt sort of warm and I wondered what it would be like to lay with someone like this while they were awake.

When it ends, it's nearing ten o'clock and I figure I should head home. After all, I'd never been to a friend's house on a school night before, so I wasn't sure what the correct time to get back would be. My parents didn't set a curfew; I doubt they even care I'm out. When I texted my mom telling her what I was going to do after school, she didn't even reply.

I frown to myself, watching as Dylan takes the disk out of the player and puts it back. He turns and smiles at me, rolling his eyes at his sleeping sister before walking over and shaking her awake. She jumps off me, eyes bleary as she looks up at her brother; he seems amused, and my heart sinks a bit as he says something to her but doesn't sign. Even though his lips are easy to read I don't quite catch it, and I'm starting to feel like an outsider. It makes me want to cry.

Gemma gets up and stretches, leaving the room and going to what I assume is her own bedroom. Dylan watches her before turning back to me, brow furrowed a bit and a tiny line appearing between them. It makes me flush because I was right; his sister and him did have that in common.

"Just you and me," he signs, frowning as I stand and shake my head.

"I need to head home," I say, looking up at him through my fringe. He's a good four or five inches taller than me, and for once I don't mind being small. "School night," I add once Dylan gets a disappointed look in his eye.

"Oh yeah," he says, but doesn't sign; it's okay though because I could read his lips perfectly. I watch them as he smiles, running a hand through his hair. "I'll drive you home then."

"I can walk," I offer, but my hands drop when Dylan gives me an exasperated glance. I frown to myself but follow him nonetheless, grabbing my blazer and slipping back on my shoes as we head to his car. I hesitate a moment before getting into the passenger's seat; so far I'd only ridden in the back and quite frankly I preferred it back there. That way I wouldn't have to see the way Dylan's hands flexed around the wheel or the natural smile his lips took on as (I assume) the radio began to play.

We drive in relative silence. It's okay though because I don't talk any way and Dylan couldn't sign while driving, not unless he wanted to risk an accident. He yawns, drawing my eyes to his mouth not for the first time today. I watch as his teeth bare before his jaw locks up; he stretches his neck as if it's stiff and I remember how he said he'd had a long day. I feel bad he has to take me home; I wouldn't have minded walking, or he could have taken me earlier rather than watching a Game of Thrones episode. I should have suggested it, he probably didn't want to be out this late.

Dammit, why couldn't my parents be real parents for once and come pick me up?

He stares at my dad's truck in the driveway for a few seconds, mouth curling up in a sort of snarl before his expression goes smooth. I bite my lip harshly, wondering what's running through his head. Is he questioning why my parents have yet to make an appearance in my life? Does he feel bad for me? Is he angry? Can he even begin to comprehend what exactly goes on behind those doors? Because I don't think he can and that makes me want to throw my arms up and admit to the fact that I hate my home life with a passion. I remain quiet; like always.

"Thanks for the ride," I sign, staring at my hands as I move them shakily. I'm not sure why I'm so nervous, but suddenly I want to throw up all over Dylan's car. "I appreciate it."

Dylan rolls his eyes, saying, "Don't thank me, it was no problem. I'm glad I have someone to watch Game of Thrones with, considering Gemma hates them." I stare at his lips and can't help the grin that pulls at my own, watching as Dylan's tongue suddenly darts out. My smile falters some as again the thought of kissing him enters my mind.

"I really like the show," I sign, blinking away the mental pictures that don't even make sense. I must just be tired.

Dylan smiles cheekily, surprising me when he leans across the middle console and wraps an arm over my shoulders. I freeze for a moment, wondering what the heck is going on before I realize: he's hugging me. Dylan's actually hugging me goodbye. I hadn't even hugged Gemma yet. God, listen to me, acting like this is the biggest thing in the entire world. But it is, isn't it? I can't remember the last time someone actually wrapped their arms around me in a hug. Could it have been before I went deaf? Or maybe it was the nurses in the hospital. This physical contact leaves me too stunned to do anything, so I sit there until Dylan pulls away after a respectable amount of time, nervous grin on his face and concern in his eyes. I bet he's wondering why I tensed up so much. It's just a friendly hug, after all, kind of like Gemma resting her head on my shoulder. They must be a touchy family. I should learn how to handle physical contact if I'm going to be hanging out with them.

I wave goodbye, getting out of the car and tripping over my own feet. I blush as I shut his car door, watching as he laughs at me. It doesn't seem malicious, though, so I let it past. I sprint to my house, turning and waving again until his lights disappear down the road. I let myself in slowly, not even checking on my parents as I quickly make my way to my room, where I throw myself face-first onto the bed and breathe heavily.

My heart is beating so quickly against my ribcage, I'm afraid it's going to break free. Suddenly I don't care how confused Dylan makes me; I sort of like this feeling.