The Silent Alpha
Chapter 2
*The main character is deaf and communicates by using American Sign Language*
© Copyright All Rights Reserved
Victoria's POV
It's been three months since I met Michael; he was a new student at the school. He had brown hair with a red tint, brown eyes, and brightly tanned skin. He was so full of life and energy that it was so contagious. His outlook on life shaped a lot of who he is, and he smiles so much. I honestly loved it. I'd smile whenever he'd smile too; somehow, smiling makes me feel happier.
We always talked; we even had a few classes together. At that moment, we were walking down to the lunch line from our English class. People would stare at us and talk every day, but we ignored them. At least, I would. Michael would get angry and maybe say something to them, but when I asked what they said, he'd shake it off and add one of his contagious smiles to his face. I couldn't help but move on from my impending nagging. He was so worth staying happy for.
There were so many feelings I was going through right now. How could someone make me feel this way so fast? Michael was so different from me; he was funny and socially adapted. On the other hand, I am the kid who can only have the teacher as a partner in classes. People avoided me like the plague. It wasn't like a smell or making weird faces. It was just that I was deaf, and not a single person knew American Sign Language. Not to mention that using my voice is not an option since I was made fun of for it in the ninth grade. I took years of speech lessons, so I know how to speak, but never hearing myself changes things, and many people here aren't too kind to those things. So I keep my voice locked away, never to be heard again.
"So, I've wanted to ask you something," Michael said, moving his hands slowly. Seeming to drag out his statement. I was wondering what he had to say. Oh my goodness! Was he going to ask me to be his girlfriend? I've always wanted to tell him how much I liked him, but I never built the strength to do it. If this was going to be the moment, I would take it.
"What is it?" I asked; I looked up at him; my eyes just met his chin and followed his jawline and hair. Heat rushed through me; from head to toe, I felt a chill of ice and heat. I knew underneath my jacket there were goosebumps pressing the surface. How could he make me feel this way so quickly? He looked at me for a minute before continuing.
"I was wondering if you'd like to come to my house later." His house? Now only the feeling of heat ran across my skin. His house? I've never been to a boy's house before.
My eyes widened as more questions raced across my mind. Would it just be him and me? I mean, it's not that I'd be uncomfortable or anything.
He must've seen the scared look on my face because he immediately began to defend his intentions. "No, nothing freaky. I mean unless you wanted to." I nearly gasped in shock, but I felt nothing but laughter ripple through me. This guy is so annoying! I smacked his hands away. I was so done listening to what he had to say. Michael laughed as well, looking away as a light pink tint filled his cheeks. "I just wanted you to meet my family."
I smiled. Oh my. He wants me to meet his family? "I didn't know we were on that level yet," I said jokingly. Though, he didn't seem to find it funny. Now he looked shocked as if he had overstepped and possibly thought I saw him as a creep.
"I'm sorry. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. You are one of the coolest friends I've ever had; I told them that you're deaf, and they wanted to meet you. Plus, my entire family is deaf aside from me, so they really want to meet you." he explained quickly. After he finished, I placed my hands on top of his. There were times when I didn't need to sign what I was feeling. Sometimes, I would just use my hands in other ways to convey those same emotions. Some motions would be when I ran my fingers through his hair, pulled on his earlobe, smacked his hands away mid-sentence, and rubbed my hands over his. Each action expresses emotion in a way I couldn't explain. Michael looked down at me and then at our hands. I smiled at him as I let go.
I held my smile as I replied, "No, it's fine. I'd love to meet your family," The line finally moves, and we move along with it. "I'm surprised; you never talked to me about your family. I actually never knew everyone was deaf."
He nodded, I saw him blush slightly, "Yeah, it's kind of hard to find a way to bring them up." I smiled. Why would he have a hard time mentioning them? As he said, we're all deaf; I'm sure that would explain how he knows Sign Language so well.
I've tried to mention him to my family, but they weren't the easiest for me to talk to. They didn't talk to me much; if they did, it was barely tight-lipped. They were all hearing, and I was the only deaf in the family. The complete opposite of Michael. My mother actively avoids me regularly. For the last three months, I haven't seen her; I've only been able to read notes she's left on where dinner was; but even when she was around, she wouldn't even acknowledge me as her daughter.
My sister was also my number one fan, she was three years older than me, and she was always doing one of two things when she was around, and that was listening to her music with her earpods or arguing with our mother about something; and whenever she did talk to me, it was so fast that I couldn't even lip-read what she was saying.I'd just end up staring at her and get called a name before she stormed off. Understanding my sister and sharing a bond with her was long gone, especially given that she was the one who made fun of my speaking voice in the month grade at our school. She was a Senior, and I was a Freshman; right before my sister graduated, she left me an excellent status and nickname in her wake. One I'm still suffering from now.
Now my father was a different case, he was a war veteran who lost his sight when I was in the seventh grade. Although my father was blind, he still learned sign language for me. It took him longer than the average person, but given that he knew a decent amount before he went blind, learning more unique ways to communicate with me has meant so much to me growing up. The weird yet cool thing about my blind father was that he didn't seem blind; he acted as if he wasn't. He could move around without a stick and not bump into things; and if someone he was speaking to were quiet and walked out of the room, his eyes would follow them. He could write perfectly fine, too; I have always assumed it was his extensive years of military training that trained his hearing and memory retention.
"I never knew I was such a popular subject to you." I signed with a smile on my face after coming back to reality. He nodded, and we finally got our food from the lunch line and went to our table.
"Well, you are one of a kind." He said, and I blushed, thankfully we were too busy settling down for him to notice. Once we sat down and began eating, Michael signed, "So, how are things going for you in your classes? Are you getting better in them?" Ugh, classes? Why does he want to talk about classes at lunchtime? This was the one free time per day I got away from classes.
I nodded in my turkey avocado sandwich, replying, "Yeah, I've been staying after school to get extra help on the lectures because I can barely understand them half the time. They're always facing the board when they talk."
"I still don't understand why you don't get an interrupter to help you." He said, I rolled my eyes.
I shrug and bit into my sandwich, "First, I do have an interrupter. They have to give me one by law, and I just use them virtually. Even then, the translator can't teach me, so I'm left just as confused. Not to mention, I want to be independent, and I don't want anyone following me around looking like a stalker. Which is why I pull them up virtually, they translate, and then I come back after school with my questions."
"Well, why can't you just be in the—" I held up my hands, stopping him mid-sentence. I didn't want to hear from him the same thing people told me all of the time. That I should go to a disability class. My own family didn't even want to put me in a deaf school. They said that the cost of a private deaf school in the state is both of their salaries combined.
Before I could say anything to Michael, something appeared between us. I could smell her perfume before actually seeing her. Tiffany, a large-breasted girl with long waist-length blond hair and too much make-up on, appeared at our table. Why is she here?
I looked at her face, "...been long...boo...table..." That didn't seem right; I looked over at Michael, who had responded to her, I couldn't tell what he was saying from his profile, but I could see he was angry. Oh goodness, he hardly got angry. What the freak was this girl talking about?
I put my hand on him, taking his attention away from the evil witch altering his aura. "I couldn't catch what she had said. Can you tell me?" He shook his head and said something to Tiffany that made her flip her hair and stomp off. I glared at him, "Do you think I like being left out? Tell me what she said."
"I don't want to tell you; it's stupid."
I folded my arms and turned away from him, I know this was pouting, but goodness, I really hated being treated this way; I started to eat my lunch without looking at him. He always did this. He still left me out. I understood that being deaf wasn't the most significant thing, but it was hard to have people understand. I hate being left out. Every day I watch my sister dance around the house with earphones on and my mom screaming at her about something—which I suppose is for the music—I've always wondered what my mom's voice sounded like. Even though I went deaf at the age of eight years, it was hard to remember things. Especially sounds, and most of the time, I felt vulnerable. As in if someone was following me or sneaking up on me, I wouldn't know. And can you guess why? You got it because I'm deaf.
Suddenly a light pressure was on my shoulder; I turned and saw Michael pressing his hand into my shoulder. I frowned; "What?" I asked.
"If you want to know what she said, I'll tell you." He said. I turned my body towards him. I watched as his chest moved up and down from his breathing. He didn't want to tell me by the way he kept looking away and the way he was constantly pushing his hand through his hair. He always did that when he was frustrated.
I shook my head, "It's fine. ... tell me next time it happens, alright?" He looked relieved, nodding his head. A visible 'thank you' appeared in his expression.
"Sorry, but it's hard for me. I'm the only hearing person in my family. And sometimes when we're out in public and signing... I hear what people say about us. I wouldn't say I like it, but I never tell my family what I hear. They don't need to know; I wonder what type of person am I if I ruin everyone's good time because of what some assholes have to say. So, when you ask me to tell you, it's hard for me to go all out and say it."
I nodded; I understood what he meant, "Thank you for that but in all honesty... growing up in a home where I have three hearing family members, one is blind, and the other two can care less whether I'm breathing or not, I don't get the chance to know a lot of things. So, yeah, I feel left out a lot, and I hate that feeling."
He nodded, coming closer to me, embracing me with a warm hug. I happily accepted it; he was so friendly and welcoming. He let me go, and I looked back at him. I looked into his warm, beautiful brown eyes, "Thank you." I signed with him.
"Why?"
"For being such a great friend to me, from the moment I met you, you changed my life."
He smiled, "It's my pleasure."
I smiled back.
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After the whole school day went by and life was as dull as it usually was, the day finally ended. I sat in front of the school, waiting for my sister, to come and pick me up. Michael had to leave early; he told me that he'd pick me up from my house in an hour so we could go to his house. I was excited about going to his house; I couldn't wait to meet his family. I smiled at myself, blushing slightly. He wants me to meet his family.
I sat down in front of the school, watching other kids socialize. It doesn't make me creepy in any way. But it is always fantastic to watch people talk to each other. The way that they laugh and the way that their mouth moves at an abnormal speed. Sometimes, I wish that I could be a part of that.
Time went by quickly, and Kristen still wasn't here to pick me up. I looked down at my phone; it was 4:30. I had been sitting here for 30 minutes waiting on her. I texted her, Are you still coming to get me? After ten minutes, I still never got a response; I groaned. I hate when she does this to me! She'll go out of her damn way to tell me that she'll pick me up when she never shows up! Ugh, what was the freaking point of telling me then?
Michael was going to pick me up from my house in twenty minutes, and I wasn't even there. I swear when I see her, I will wrap those earphones around her—my phone vibrated in my pocket; I sighed. Maybe it was finally Kristen confirming that she was coming to get me, but my blood boiled when I saw who it was from it.
Hey, Tori. I have to run an errand before I pick you up. I'll need an extra ten minutes, is that cool? Michael's message read.
I replied, Yeah, it's okay. I'll be ready.
I took my phone, stuffed it in my pocket, and got off the school stairs. My house was about a twenty-minute walk, but it'll take me half that time if I run there. I sighed; this was going to be hell. Running was hell.
By the time I got home, I had less than twenty minutes to get ready. I opened up the door with my key and walked up the stairs. I'm not even bothering to let anyone know I was home; it's not like anyone would care. I went into my room and prepared for Michael to pick me up.
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I had ten minutes to spare; I smiled at myself in the mirror. I had taken a quick shower and changed my outfit. I was now wearing black ripped skinny jeans, my favorite Hollister blue sweater, and All-Star converse shoes. This was my everyday style; I didn't want to go to meet Michael's family looking like someone I wasn't to impress them. I wanted them to like me for me, not for someone I'm not. But I must admit... I clean up nicely. I let my hair out of the towel, making my natural waves fall to my waist. I walked over to my dresser mirror and applied eyeliner and mascara; I pinched my cheeks to add extra color to them. I sighed, yeah... I didn't want to impress them at all.
I left my room and went downstairs; my dad was sitting on the couch staring at the wall while my mom and sister were running around the house like chickens with their heads cut off, their blonde hair flying all around them. I walked over to my dad, I grabbed his hand, and he turned to me and smiled. I put my hand in his.
"What's wrong with them?" I asked. He took his hand away and signed his response to me.
"We have a special visitor coming over in a moment, and they're trying to fix things up." I was about to ask him who was coming over when he suddenly looked away from me. I looked around at everyone else who had stopped moving and looked at the door as if a murderer was standing in front of it. I watched as mom said something and ran to the door, and Kristen stood by the couch, she straightened her posture and pushed up her chest. I realized now that she looked stunning; she was wearing a beautiful yellow sundress and white flats. Her brownish blonde curly hair was going down past her shoulders. I wonder who was coming to make her go out of her way to look all pretty. She dressed like this often, but not with so much care.
Moments later, my mom walked into the living room, where we all were with a man at her side. And it seemed as though everything froze when he walked into the room. To say that this man was gorgeous was an understatement; he was a god. He was tower and built like a cage fighter; he had beautiful curly hair, a set jaw, full lips, and beautiful brown eyes. This man was...
Staring at me, just like how I was staring at him. I looked away, flushed and slightly light-headed, I was making it creepy staring at a stranger, but there was something about this man that was... I can't find the word to describe it. He walked up towards me, my sister got ready to get up, but he moved to pass her. Oh my gosh, he was coming towards me. What do I do? I didn't have time to think or react because seconds later, he was in front of me. And no matter how hard my heart pounded in my chest, it didn't stop the thoughts of that I knew him, but who was he? I felt as if I knew this man from somewhere. He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips. I felt electricity go through my arm. The shock caused me to snap my hand away from him.
I saw his lips moving fast, and I was so mesmerized by his beauty and familiarity that I didn't even focus on what he said. I wasn't even sure if he was speaking English. I frowned when he looked back at me, but he laughed and stepped back. He began to speak to my father, mother, and sister. I saw the flashing light go off on the roof. Everyone looked towards the door, which must've been Michael. Mom walked towards the door before I could even think it.
I stepped away from the gorgeous man and walked back to my dad; I grabbed his hand, telling him I would be gone for a few hours to be with my friend. He nodded his head, and I walked away. Michael came into the living room; I watched his mouth as he said hello to everyone and smiled when he saw me. My mom looked surprised at me, I looked at Michael, but for a moment, his attention was on the man in our house. I didn't know who the man was, so introducing them to each other wasn't going to help.
Though the moment seemed unreal, it was almost as if the two of them knew each other. I only say this because the man was glaring at Michael. What gave him the right to look at people that way? Two minutes in my house, and this guy is not only breathtaking but really... weird.
"Hey Tori, You ready?" Michael asked; I smiled and nodded at him. I walked over to Michael, wanting to get him out of there as soon as possible; I turned back and waved quickly to everyone. The man looked at me with a confused expression on his handsome face. I don't know why sadness took over me, but part of me felt like I had to explain myself. I shrugged it off; it's not like I knew who he was, and he didn't know me. So, why did I feel like I owed him anything? I bushed it off and went outside with Michael. I don't know why I care even a little bit what a stranger thinks about my friend and me.
I looked at the motorcycle that was sitting in my driveway. No way, this was awesome! I looked up at Michael with excitement everywhere in my body; he handed me a helmet, "Who was that guy?" He asked. I suppose he meant the tall, sexy man in my living room.
I shrugged, "I don't know," I looked back at the house and saw the man looking at me through the window. We held eye contact for what felt like forever; even looking at him gave me that electric feeling throughout my body again. "Maybe we'll know someday." I got on the back end of the seat after Michael got on. Soon as he got the motorcycle started, we were leaving the driveway.
As Michael pulled out of the driveway, I looked back again. He wasn't looking out the window at me anymore, but I knew—in some weird way—that he was thinking about me. Not to seem cocky or anything, but it's kind of like the feeling that you get when someone is watching you... but they were not, but I knew this wouldn't be the last time I saw the man in my living room. No, not at all; we'd meet again. I just knew we would.