What She Is (On Super Hold)

Chapter 2: Andrew Embarrasses Himself and I Sneak Out

            She smiled at both Andrew (who was staring at her with his mouth wide open like the idiot he is sometimes) and me. Andrew tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention and pull me from my daze.

            His hands flew and changed shape so quickly I had to focus a little harder to see what he was signing. S-H-E-S then he clasped his hands together (our symbol for the end of a word) H-O-T and then his hands clasped twice (the symbol for the end of sentence). I sighed inwardly. I hated to admit he was right when I was trying to decide whether or not to be afraid of her.

            We’d learned the sign language alphabet when we were in sixth grade and bored out of our minds and ever since we’d used it to pass messages that may not be a good idea to say in front of others.

            Mirada smile again before getting our attention by waving her hands. I-clasp-W-I-L-L-clasp-T-A-K-E-clasp-T-H-A-T-clasp-A-S-clasp-A-clasp-C-O-M-P-L-E-M-E-N-T-clasp-clasp. So she knew sign language, or at least the alphabet and she’d caught onto our little code.

            Andrew went red and for the first time in his life he shut-up. So utter humiliation was what it took; I’d have to remember that. “Well I guess the sign language is useless then,” I said just loud enough for Mirada and Andrew to hear. Mirada smiled once again and fell into a silent laughing fit. I couldn’t help but look confused at the lack of sound.

            Mirada noticed this quickly and pointed to herself before signing out a single word. M-U-T-E. She hadn’t spoken because she couldn’t. I was flooded with sympathy for this girl when only seconds ago she’d scared me. After all, what could a petite mute girl do? But still that fear nagged at me, no matter how much I tried to deny or ignore it.

            Andrew was still in an embarrassed stupor as the lesson began and I was almost glad to direct my attention to Mr. Lane. It was a lot easier to focus on Marie Antoinette’s messed up life then how messed up mine was becoming.

            The bell rang and I went on to my next class. Mirada was in it. And Andrew wasn’t there to do something stupid and keep her from communicating with me. I managed to find a seat in the back corner of the classroom; surely she wouldn’t want to sit there, being the center of attention and all. She would be for at least the next couple of days; an average student’s simple mind was very amazed by anything different. She fit that quota perfectly, even if only I knew the full depth that statement held.

            Contradicting my rationalizations she alighted gracefully on the seat next to mine. I stared at my book trying to act like I didn’t notice. She tapped me on the shoulder. N-O-clasp-O-N-E-clasp-U-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D-S-clasp-M-E-clasp-clasp.  She seemed said and stared at me hopefully waiting for a response.

            I shrugged, “Not many people understand sign language,” I answered calmly.

            She smiled, T-H-A-T-clasp-I-S-clasp-W-H-Y-clasp-I-clasp-W-A-N-T-E-D-clasp-Y-O-U-clasp-I-N-clasp-M-Y-clasp-C-L-A-S-S-E-S-clasp-clasp. She signed this as fast as she could and gave one of her eerie silent laughs before turning to face the front of the room. I’m not sure if she saw me nod nonchalantly or not.

            Then it hit me. How would she know I could understand the sign language alphabet? It had just been something Andrew and I had learned for no reason a few years back. A chill crept down my spine and I asked to be excused to the bathroom.

Miss Cole, an overly bubbly younger teacher happily obliged but was unable to remain still as she bounced in place and wrote a pass. She had dark hair and eyes and a small frame. It wasn’t uncommon to see her skipping through class or at least attempting to make chemistry sound like a carnival. Her ADHD was pretty blatant. She handed me the note and spun her way back to teaching.

I had to smile, it was hard not to around someone that happy, but the second I left the room the same cloud of dread overcame me.

How did she know? I wondered this as I made my way down the quiet hall; I needed somewhere silent to clear my mind for at least a moment. I knew just the place. I was in the bathroom in seconds and on the windowsill even faster. This is where two years of karate in middle school came in handy because the window was above my head. Call it resourceful. They never bothered to lock the window so I slipped outside easily.

It was easier to think in the fresh air.

“Hey cat,” I heard a high and familiar voice.

“Cat?” I asked Gabriella ask she walked up closer.

“It because of how you snuck out, you looked like a cat,” she answered pointedly.

“I see you slipped out a window too. Why?” I asked.

“I missed the outside,” she shrugged, then her disposition changed, “what’s wrong Nick?”

“Nothing,”

“Liar, you always slip out when idiots get to much for you,” she smiled triumphantly. Gabby knew about my anger issues. I had to see a psychiatrist once a week. It shocked me that she had noticed this, I’d ran into her a couple times outside but I didn’t think she’d paid much attention. Gabby was growing up.

“Just drop it Gabby,” I said more harshly then intended.

“I’ve got to get back anyways,” she said turning quickly and stomping off back to her school. I watched her crawl into a window.

“Well that’s just great,” I grumbled to myself as I grudgingly found my way back into the school. I’d came outside for clarity and I’d left mad. Figures.