Deaf Daisy | #1 in #americansignlanguage

8 Cinnamon Daisy

         So since when are you and Cannon texting buddies?

I'm in the passenger seat of Serena's Prius, and we're at a red light, and I thought I'd been being discreet with my phone activity.

I know the only people you text are me and your mom, and it's not me, and your mom is at work.

I actually did just text my mom though. I tell her. I'd show her the text if it didn't hold incriminating evidence.

She doesn't seem too concerned with this fact. What about the other texts?

I give in. It's just more efficient than passing notes.

Phones aren't allowed at school, she reminds me, as if I do not know.

I kind of figured out that we don't get in trouble.

How? Did you make love in the teacher's lounge?

I make a gross face but laugh at her delivery. Ew, no. What's wrong with you. We were passing notes and Knox just looked at us but didn't say anything and let us go.

The light turns green and Serena is forced to stop hounding me. My mom texts me back.

"What'd he say?" she turns so I can read her lips.

She said sure. As in my mother.

"Sure to what?"

Sure to dropping me off at The Mudhouse later.

"Tell her not to worry about it. I could go for a tea." She's got a grin that I don't like.

No, that's okay. She's gonna drop me. I'm not going until six.

Another red light. Oh? What's at six?

I'm just going to do some homework.

Is The Mudhouse quieter than your home? she jokes.

Yes, much.

Serena gives me a knowing look. I don't know why you're being a pain in the ass. If you're not meeting me, which you're not, you're obviously meeting Cannon, which I think is adorable.

He asked me for help with his homework, I explain. The fact that you find a pair of estranged classmates doing homework over coffee adorable may or may not be why I didn't tell you. Yes, I see myself sign this. And yes, I realize that it sounds like the synopsis for a Wattpad novel.

Green light and a grin. "So you're study buddies."

I make the gross face again. That has an implied undertone. We're... I think for a moment. Every title I come up with has an implied undertone. Teacher-assigned lab partners.

"Whatever. I think it's nice that you're helping him."

I only shrug. It doesn't feel overly nice. It feels like a sense of duty.

"Have you told him yet why you hate him?"

This question catches me off guard. I don't hate him.

She shoots me a look that tells me that she doesn't actively believe me.

I didn't like him very much. I still don't like him very much. He's... arrogant.

Serena pulls onto my road. She waits for the single stop sign to answer me. It's a defense mechanism. He's experienced significant trauma.

Why do you think I'm helping him with his homework, Shauna?