Being Jazmine (Invisible Series Book 3)

by Cecily Anne Paterson

  It’s not good.

  A storm of messages hits my phone, Gabby-style, one after the other.

  Why can’t you come?

  What are you doing?

  You said you would.

  I can’t believe it.

  Can’t you meet them on another day?

  Seriously, this is going to be the best thing ever. You are crazy to miss it.

  I text her back because I’m too scared to call. I’m sorry, Gabby. It’s the only day they’ll be here. And I won’t see them again, maybe not until camp next year, if I don’t go.

  She tries another tack. Get them to come earlier. I’ll come shopping with you all too and meet them. Then we can go to the surprise.

  I wait a minute before I reply. I go to the bathroom, wash my hands in the sink and look at myself in the mirror. My hearing aids are poking out behind my hair, so I take them out and put them in my pocket. Now I’m myself. Now I can tell her what I need to say.

  Gabby, my friends are deaf. You’re not. It’s too hard to have you both around together. It’s too different. You don’t get them, and they have to work too hard to understand you. I’m sorry. They can’t come another time. It just has to be this way.

  I take a big breath in and click ‘send’.

  There’s a wait. A long period of time.

  I sit on my bed and hold my phone.

  Inside, my heart is beating. My stomach feels tight.

  And then there’s a message.

  A long one.

  For reals, Jaz, you’re dumping me for people you only just met? I wasn’t going to tell you because I knew it would be a huge surprise for you, but we were going to see the Beat Boys. On tour. I bought tickets for you and everything. Now I’m going to have to go on my own or find someone else. Great. Thanks so much! I should have figured it out: you’ve been ignoring me ever since you went on that stupid camp. I can’t believe I mean less to you than some people you just met.

  Then there’s one more message.

  I can’t believe you would do that to me.

  And another.

  I thought we were friends.

  And then it’s done.

  After that, she doesn’t call again.

  Chapter 16

  At 1pm on Wednesday I meet Mia and Freya at the shops. I push down the guilt I feel about Gabby, and I stop myself from looking up the Beat Boys tour dates. It’s time to focus on good things. Grandma drops me off, so I wear my hearing aids in the car with her, but take them out while I’m waiting for the girls to turn up.

  I’m a bit nervous; it’s the first time I’ve seen them since camp, and even though we’ve probably texted or messaged every day, my hands feel a bit twitchy. Will they still like me? Will I still fit in?

  It’s okay.

  When I see them, it’s all good. My hand flies up into a wave, and my face breaks into a smile I don’t think I can control. They smile back, and wave too, and Freya signs, ‘You’re enthusiastic,’ and I put my hand down, a little embarrassed, and laugh.

  Mia looks at me and gives me a nod of approval. ‘You look the same,’ she signs.

  ‘So do you,’ I sign. ‘Mostly.’ I feel brave, like I’m one of them, not worrying about having to be polite, just saying what I think. And anyway, she does look the same: black t-shirt, black jeans and Doc boots.

  ‘She’s got pink hair,’ signs Freya, and it’s true. Mia has a hot pink streak running across her forehead and down the side of her head.

  ‘Awesome,’ I sign.

  Mia tips her head and shrugs, but there’s a small smile there, and I can tell she’s pleased to have her hair noticed.

  ‘So what shall we do?’ I sign.

  ‘We have to wait for Charlotte,’ signs Freya.

  ‘I didn’t know she was coming,’ I sign. I’m aware of people looking at us as we chat with our hands - the regular people, just doing their shopping or going to the bank. They’re going to go home and tell their families, “I saw a group of kids using sign language in the mall today,” and not stop talking about us for a week. Most people are trying not to stare, doing that thing where they give quick glances, or pretend to be looking past us. I know what it looks like on someone’s face when they try to hide their curiosity. I get a lot of it when I wear my hearing aids. But this is even more intense. Maybe because there are three of us together. I grin to myself. Before, I would have wanted to hide away. Now I feel proud.

  ‘We should have something to eat,’ signs Freya. ‘And maybe try on some clothes.’

  ‘The clothes here are terrible,’ signs Mia. ‘Nothing individual at all.’

  Freya shrugs. ‘It’s still fun. You can try on something in pastel blue.’ She gives Mia a wicked grin, and Mia smiles back.

  ‘That’ll never happen.’

  Charlotte arrives, dropped off by a woman who must be her mum. She looks like Charlotte, except unhappier. She kisses Charlotte and tries to tell her something, but Charlotte doesn’t look like she wants to be told. She pulls away, waves her mum goodbye and walks over to us. Her face is annoyed.

  ‘Hey,’ she signs.

  ‘You’re late,’ signs Mia.

  ‘My mum wouldn’t hurry up. She always makes me late when I’m seeing you guys.’

  I want to ask why, but Mia makes a face, like everyone knows the reason and they sympathise, so I keep my question to myself and think I’ll figure it out later, or ask Charlotte herself.

  We shop for a while, although I don’t have any money and Mia signs, loud and proud that there’s nothing she would buy in this whole mall, it’s so conventional and samey and exactly what every other person out there wears, and where’s the uniqueness? I look at my clothes - denim shorts, a striped t-shirt and a pair of white Converse sneakers, and wonder if I’m conventional and samey and exactly the same as every other person out there. Maybe I should change up my style? Be more individual. Get a streak in my hair, maybe. Or a tattoo.

  ‘I’m getting one,’ Mia tells us, in the change room at the surf shop. Freya’s trying on a swimsuit that’s green with white bindings. She brought in three to try: a purple one and a blue one, which are waiting on hangers. ‘As soon as I’m sixteen. I’m already thinking about what I want.’

  ‘Wow,’ signs Charlotte. Her face looks really shocked. ‘My mum would never let me have one.’

  ‘It’s legal,’ signs Mia. She shrugs. ‘She can’t stop you.’

  ‘What are you going to get done?’ asks Freya. She’s posing in front of the mirror, like she can’t decide whether she likes the swimsuit or not.

  Mia makes a face. ‘Hard to know. Maybe a letter D. Or maybe hands making the sign for Deaf.’ She grins. ‘Not flowers or swirls or anything lame like that.’

  ‘Where would you get it?’ I ask. ‘On your back?’

  ‘Somewhere where everyone can see it,’ signs Mia. She points to her forearm. ‘Maybe here.’ She points to her neck. ‘Or here.’

  My eyes go big. I can’t imagine even thinking about a neck tattoo. ‘You’re so brave.’

  She smiles at me. ‘You’re cute, Jazmine. I’m not brave. I’m just sick of people not seeing me. These days I’m just like, “whatever, you’re gonna notice me, bruh. I’m not going away.” Just because I’m Deaf doesn’t mean people get to treat me like I don’t exist.’

  My eyes go even bigger, if it’s possible. ‘You should talk to my mum,’ I sign. ‘She doesn’t get it at all.’

  ‘Are you still only talking Auslan at home?’

  Charlotte looks nervous. ‘Really? Are you doing that? What about your mum?’

  I nod. ‘She hates it. But I told her I had to. After camp, when I realised what’s been going on. I mean, she’s been pretending I’m not deaf for too many years. But I am deaf. I can’t keep being someone I’m not.’ I take a deep breath. ‘It’s hard though.’

  Mia pats me on the shoulder. ‘You’re cool, Jaz.’ She shrugs. ‘Just keep going. People gave me a hard time for years. Now no one does. You get tougher.’
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  ‘Green is good,’ signs Freya. ‘I’m gonna get this one.’

  ‘It’s really nice,’ signs Charlotte, enthusiastic. She seems anxious to change the subject. ‘It really suits you.’

  The discussion turns to shoulder straps, and whether halter necks are better, if you don’t want to lose your swimmers in a heavy surf, and then Freya pays and we’re out of there, and the conversation is forgotten.

  But I haven’t forgotten it. And I feel stronger.

  We have smoothies from the juice bar later, after we’ve window shopped for clothes and shoes, and been out of the mall, up and down the shops on the main street as well. Mia rejects everything we show her, except for one pair of Doc-lookalike boots, white with flowers on them, and purple laces.

  ‘I would maybe buy them,’ she signs. ‘But they’re the wrong colour.’

  Freya has money to burn: she tries on two pairs of sandals and ends up taking one of them.

  ‘Are you buying anything?’ I ask Charlotte, but she shrugs in reply.

  ‘Don’t like shopping?’ I sign.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she replies, but she doesn’t look convinced. Her face seems worried: she’s not as smiley and cheerful as she was those first two days of camp. Freya seems to have noticed; she keeps sneaking stealthy looks at Charlotte, but she doesn’t say anything. Mia notices too, but when Charlotte just shrugs and half-smiles in response to her ‘what’s the matter?’ she doesn’t bother following it up.

  ‘Are you alright?’ I ask, finally. ‘You seem a bit sad.’

  Charlotte makes a face at me, like, don’t, okay? so I don’t, but the question follows me around all day, even until the end, when I hug them all and say goodbye.

  Freya grins and shakes her bags of shopping. ‘We’ll do this again.’

  Charlotte makes more of an effort with her smile. ‘See you, Jazmine. I’ll text you, okay?’

  Mia even gives me a hug. ‘Stay strong, Jaz,’ she signs. ‘You’re awesome, Deaf girl.’

  And even though she calls me what the bullies used to call me at school, I’m happy to take that sign as my own. The way the bullies used it, it gave them all the power. The way Mia uses it, it makes me strong.

  When I get into the car with Grandma, I’m buzzing, even though I have to switch back to talking, and trying to listen, rather than watching.

  “How was it?”

  “So fun, you can’t even believe it.”

  When we get back to Grandma’s place, my phone buzzes. It makes me feel guilty, thinking maybe Gabby’s trying to get in touch, and I wonder quickly if she’s having fun watching the band, and if she took someone else. I think about checking on Insta to see if she’s posted pictures of it, but then I don’t want to. Instead, I open the message that’s just come in. It’s from Charlotte.

  Hey, Jaz. Just wanted to say sorry for being kind of weird today.

  I message her back, even though I can see she’s still typing.

  It’s okay. I was just a bit worried about you.

  The rest of her message comes in as soon as I press send on mine.

  Um, it’s a secret, but my surgery time has been changed. I’m having my second implant done next week. It got brought forward. So that’s why I was a bit upset today.

  I wrinkle my forehead. I don’t really get the connection between the surgery and the being upset. Is she scared by hospitals? Or worried that something will go wrong?

  I’m sure it’ll be fine, I write. It’ll all go well.

  Oh, I’m not worried about that, she replies. The blue dot hops up and down for a few seconds. It’s just, well, you know. Just don’t tell Mia, okay?

  Again, I’m confused, but she wants me to make a promise, so I do.

  Okay. For sure.

  And I wonder: why? Could Mia be jealous of Charlotte’s implants? I mean, Charlotte’s going to be able to hear a lot better with them both in. Stuff’s going to be easier for her at school, and probably at home too. But I don’t see why she would be jealous. Mia likes being Deaf.

  So what’s the great big problem?

  Chapter 17

  The holidays end, and just like that, I’m back.

  Back to the new house.

  Back to the old routine.

  Mum, walking in to the room: [soft mumbling]

  Me, signing: Mum, I’m not wearing my hearing aid. You keep forgetting.

  Mum, with a look on her face like ‘oh here we go again’, signing, slowly: Please, Jazmine. Put them on. Not funny.

  Me, still signing: Mum, no. I’m not going to. We’ve been through this. I’ll do it at school, but not at home.

  Mum, rolling her eyes, signing: I don’t know the signs for what I want to say.

  Me, rolling my eyes, ever so slightly: Write it down then.

  Mum, still signing: Too slow.

  Me, frustrated: [shrug]

  At school, it’s frustrating too. Nothing’s really happening with getting the support. Miss Fraser catches me one day in the corridor as I’m going from maths to English. “Jazmine, we need to have a meeting about how things are going.”

  “Are they any closer to getting the captioning thing for me?”

  She makes a face. “Not really. There’s a whole lot of paperwork to fill out, and the funding is tricky to get. How are you doing, as things stand right now?”

  “Okay, I guess,” I say. The teachers are making me sit up the front of the classroom now. When they remember, they give me notes from the lesson. I don’t think I’m missing too much, but then, how would I know really? It’s not too bad, and I tell Mia that in a video chat one day, but she gets super mad with me.

  ‘They have to do it for you,’ she signs. ‘They have to give you access. It’s discrimination to not give you what you need. You should chase them up. Make them do it.’

  ‘I can’t really,’ I begin to sign, but she cuts me off.

  ‘As soon as you say ‘I can’t’ that’s when you believe it, and when everyone around you believes it too,’ she signs. ‘That’s what they’ve always told me. “You can’t do that because you’re deaf. You can’t be whatever you want. You can’t go where you like. You’re deaf, so you’re not like everyone else”.’ She looks at me down the screen, and her face is ferocious. ‘But you can, okay?’

  I join some Deaf and Auslan groups on the internet, and hang out for hours, reading the forums, asking questions and chatting with people. Mum doesn’t like it. For a start, I think she’s worried about me sitting in my room all day with my phone, so she makes a new rule that I can’t take it into my bedroom.

  I’m annoyed, but I do what she wants, and take it out into the family area, next to the open plan kitchen. Which I guess isn’t quite the result Mum was hoping for. I think she wants me to dig a garden, or go outside in the sun, or read a book. I think she wants me to do anything else except talk to Deaf people.

  She tries another tactic to get me off my phone, and makes Geoff talk to me. He’s smarter than Mum. He doesn’t even start by trying to get me to put my hearing aids in. Instead, he taps me on the shoulder and pops a pre-written question in front of my face.

  Jazmine, are you going to start a garden? I have some ideas for where it could be.

  I put my phone down. He’s trying hard: he’s even used a smiley face in his message.

  I don’t know, I write. Maybe soon. I want to. Kind of. But when I think about it, I just don’t have the energy for it. Not yet. It’s not bubbling up out of me like it used to. Now the bubbles come up when I’m learning Auslan or reading stuff about being Deaf.

  He takes back the pen. Are you thinking roses? Or something less formal?

  I twist my face up and shrug.

  Okay, well let me know, writes Geoff. I can see the disappointment on his face. I’d love to help dig it up and put compost in, if you have ideas about what to do.

  I nod, and smile at him, but he leaves the room. I bite my lip for a second, and then pick up my phone again, and watch an Auslan video on my facebook feed.
It’s a guy telling a story about how he went out and left his dog locked inside, and when he got home the dog had pulled apart all the cushions so it looked like a snowstorm. Things like this are good for picking up new signs. There are a lot I don’t know, and sometimes when I’m chatting with my friends, they use signs that I have to ask them about. Also, I end up trying to explain things in roundabout ways, which makes for a frustrating conversation. So I’m doing everything I can to learn new signs and get quicker.

  Mia notices. ‘You’re doing heaps well with Auslan,’ she tells me in a video chat. ‘Not as hopeless as you were at camp.’

  I’m not offended. Instead, I grin. ‘I was totally hopeless.’

  ‘A wanna-be Deaf girl. Not so much now, though.’ She scratches her nose. “Hey, have you texted Charlotte? She’s not answering my messages this week.”

  I think for a second. It’s the week of Charlotte’s implant surgery. She’ll have been in the clinic, and then recovering. Maybe she has a shaved patch in her hair. She won’t want to be chatting to Mia. I think of a way to keep her secret, without actually lying. I’m terrible at lying. You can read it all over my face.

  ‘Maybe she’s sick,’ I try, because it could be true, but I don’t think I sound very convincing. ‘Maybe her family’s gone away.’

  Mia shrugs. ‘Weird. You’d think she’d still answer though.’

  ‘Mmm,’ I sign. ‘I guess.’ I try to think of something I can change the subject to. Always better to distract than fib. ‘So what are you doing in the holidays?’

  ‘The Year 10 kids from camp are organising a touch footy game. You should come.’ She makes a cheeky face. ‘Plus Truck will probably be there. And you know he likes you.’

  ‘Ha ha, he does not,’ I sign, and pretend to be embarrassed, even though actually, I’m kind of pleased. ‘But I’ll come. Not to see Truck. Just to play touch footy.’

  I think about the game. I’ll have to go stay with Grandma again. Which might mean seeing Gabby. Which would be awkward. Because we haven’t spoken or texted or messaged ever since the Beat Boys day. There’s a twinge in my stomach about it. I still feel a bit bad, but the twinge goes away if I tell myself that it’s for the best, that it can’t work out with Gabby, because she doesn’t understand that I’m Deaf. There’s no point still being friends, because she’ll never be able to understand it.