I find my mother and Emerson quickly. They are sampling an assortment of desserts. Mini chocolate cakes and tiny raspberry cheesecakes. Emerson offers me a cup of lemonade. I take it and drink it down, suddenly exhausted.
Hayden and Gramps join us. “What’s wrong?” Hayden asks immediately. I am a fool to think he doesn’t know me well enough to tell when I am upset.
I shake my head. Not now.
“Did something happen?” His eyes narrow as he looks at my expression. Trying to read me. Hayden waits for me to answer. Not willing to let it drop.
I nod. Lean in close to speak to him. Tonight he smells like cool ocean breezes. I breathe him in. Then I speak. “Connor followed me outside. I think he was afraid I would tell Lily that he is here with someone else.”
“Did he hurt you?” Hayden asks. His jaw tenses. He is fighting with himself. He is fighting his feelings for me.
I shake my head. “I forgot for a moment,” I tell him honestly. “I forgot that without my hearing, people can sneak up on me. I have to remember that.” It makes me sad. Just admitting it makes it more real. And the fact pains me even more when he doesn’t argue the point. Hayden nods.
Emerson offers me an oatmeal cookie. Glad for the distraction, I take it. Turn to find a napkin. I don’t see Hayden walk away. I don’t see Connor on the other side of the room.
So I am too late to stop him. Too late to call him back.
Instinct
overpowering reason
— Hayden —
I see fear in her eyes, color on her cheeks—and something snaps inside me. Something that has been buried for so long, I didn’t even know it existed.
It’s more than anger; it’s something more powerful, potentially deadly.
Rage.
Connor stands across the room from me, arm around his date. His parents speak with one of the artists. He watches me out of the corner of his eye, just as I watch him. We are like two wolves circling each other, each waiting for the other to strike.
Stella’s accident wasn’t entirely Connor’s fault, but he didn’t help her, and neither did Lily. I was there, and I remember the things she didn’t see. Connor and Lily ran around, making the tragedy about them while Stella was carried away on a stretcher.
At school I hear all the things Stella cannot hear. People blame Connor, even if Stella doesn’t. If someone took a poll of his popularity before the accident—and after—they would find he is no longer worshipped like he was before.
Connor will graduate in June, and I won’t graduate for another year, even though I will be eighteen this summer. I lost an entire year of school back in third grade. I wish I were graduating, moving on, so I wouldn’t have to see Stella every day next school year but not be with her.
My hands clench into fists at my sides, and I breathe deep to contain my emotions. I know what I am capable of, and I fight to keep control over the rage that threatens to explode. This room is filled with priceless art, patrons of my grandfather, and Stella. But Connor has threatened Stella—and I cannot remain silent.
Connor breaks away from his parents and his date and saunters toward the bar.
I find myself walking toward him before I am conscious of having made the decision. He stands with his back to me, ordering a soda. As he turns around, his face registers surprise, and I don’t give him time to recover.
I step very close, close enough to be intimidating. He has to look up at me. I keep my voice low, because I don’t want to make a scene. Not here, in the middle of an art gallery. “Watch yourself, Williams.”
Connor juts his chin at me. “You wanna take this outside?” he challenges, fixing a bright smile on his face as though he’d relish a fight.
I’d like nothing more right now than to smash my fist through his toothy grin. But I refuse to be like my mother, even now. Even when it’s to protect someone I love. “You aren’t worth it,” is my answer. But I’m not finished. “Just leave Stella alone.”
Connor sizes me up, considering his next move. He glances around to see if anyone is watching him. Rolls his shoulders back one at a time while he decides. His eyes dart back and forth rapidly, fear displayed in the movement, if not in his expression. I watch, alert to every move. Still not sure this won’t end in a fight. The seconds drag as I stand in silence. Now, I’m not silent because of fear, I’m silent in strength and power. Connor shifts his soda from his right hand to his left, and extends his right hand as an offering.
“Sorry, man, I lost it earlier. Won’t happen again.” He’s defusing the situation by backing down.
My hands are capable of inflicting serious harm, this I know. They are exactly like my mother’s hands. Anger can turn them into weapons. They can destroy. I will not let that happen. I force my hands to uncurl and stretch free, releasing the rage. I channel it into my words.
“No, you didn’t ‘lose it.’ You knew exactly what you were doing—and so do I. We both know you were an idiot that night, and you did nothing to help her. What if it was you that night, instead of her—and you could never play football again? What if you lost that scholarship to Michigan? What then?”
Connor drops his eyes to the floor, and when he raises his face to me, it is drained of bravado, of arrogance. What I see now is shame.
“High school is almost over for you. You know how many people will remember you next year? Not many. But you will remember you. So try to make choices you can live with.” I glance at Connor’s date, who is standing a few steps away, and then back at him. “Personally, I’d start with honesty.”
I watch his expression as my words register. He understands my meaning.
“Don’t ever threaten Stella again, or you’ll have to deal with me. Understand?”
Connor nods. Looks me fully in the eyes, speaking words he looks surprised to say. “You made your point.”
“Then we’re done here,” I answer, ignoring his hand. I wait for him to walk away first.
I have won. Not with my fists, but with words. I have won with the power of speech.
And it is at this moment I realize that I spoke my words to him clearly, without faltering. The words didn’t fight to be released, they did just what I asked them to do: protect Stella.
The thought triggers a memory, something I had forgotten until now. The night Stella fell into the water, I also spoke without hesitation—without tremors and stutters. I was in control. My speech didn’t falter.
I don’t know why I didn’t remember that until this moment.
But now I know.
I know possibility exists.
And where there is possibility, there is hope.
3
— Stella —
I wake Friday morning to see a gray sky.
Slate clouds. Ominous. Dark.
I roll over and go back to sleep.
Dream of kissing. Of Hayden. The person who protected me last night. Who knew what I needed and took care of me. No one has ever taken care of me like that before.
I wake hours later. Still thinking of Hayden. Last night, I didn’t see him walk away. I didn’t notice until it was too late. Until he was already talking to Connor. Hayden’s back was to me, so I couldn’t read his lips. Couldn’t see what he was saying. But I could read his body language. The way he challenged Connor. There was a moment, a split second, when I thought Hayden might punch him. But he didn’t. His words must have been powerful, because I’ve never seen Connor look so scared. He practically ran away from Hayden. When I asked Hayden what happened, he didn’t want to tell me. Just that he wanted to be sure I was safe.
His words fill me with sunshine. Make even this gloomy day bright. Bright with the thought of seeing him again. Until Emerson hands me a note.
Lily is coming over to help me with my cheer routine.
So much for my happy day.
Two hours later, I am pacing in my room. Door closed. Trying to figure out so many things at once. All I know for sure is that I have a blazing headache. Right bet
ween my eyes.
Mom opens the door. I wave her in and sit down on the bed with a heavy sigh.
She grabs the pen and paper next to my bed.
The hardest thing in life is to forgive. But we need to forgive to move on. Lily isn’t perfect, but she was your best friend. There are things about her that you respect and admire, or you would never have chosen to be close to her. She’s here now, helping Emerson. And I don’t think it’s really for Em. I think she’s helping your sister to reach out to you. I’m not saying to forget. I’m just saying that when you open your heart, you let the light in.
I finish reading. Look up at Mom. I wonder if she has finally taken her own advice. If meeting Christophe last night showed her that she needs to move on. Even if she never sees him again, that she deserves to move on. Let the light in.
I stand and curl my arms around her. Gather strength.
And then I go outside to see Lily.
She is sitting under the big tree, Emerson seated beside her. The clouds haven’t spilled their drops yet, but the air is scented with perfume heralding rain. The chill drifts across my bare arms. Tickles my nose.
As I draw closer, Lily looks up at me. Her face is damp, her eyes swollen. She runs a hand under her nose. Even like this, Lily is beautiful. Her hair is tangled chaos. Her makeup is smudged. She looks vulnerable. Her expression unguarded.
I sit on the opposite side of Emerson. We bookend Lily.
“What is it?” I ask her.
Her mouth opens. And speaks one word. I read her lips. Connor.
I didn’t want her to know, didn’t want her to get hurt. I wanted to protect her.
Mom’s advice lingers as I slide an arm around Lily’s shoulders. She leans against me. Her head touching mine.
She hands me a folded piece of paper. A note. The sentences run together as if she wrote too quickly to remember punctuation.
Connor broke up with me Said he needed to be honest He’s seeing someone else He was cheating on me all this time I wish I had broken up with him Then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much You know I probably only made the cheerleading squad because of him I lost my BFF because of him I’m so sorry Stella
Things have a way of working themselves out when you least expect it. At least, that’s how it happens for me. Because, finding Lily here, apologizing, is the last thing I expected today. And my reaction to it—complete and utter forgiveness—is a total surprise. But that’s how I feel. I forgive her. For all of it.
I think about telling her about last night.
But I don’t.
Because it’s over. Telling her more bad news will only hurt her more. So I keep it inside. One day, maybe I will tell her. But I doubt it. Some things are meant to be kept silent.
Lily has reached out to me. The real Lily. So I reach back.
I turn to look at her. “You made the cheerleading squad because you were the best. Not because of your boyfriend. I was there, remember? You deserve better than Connor. But it’s not even about that. It’s about you, Lily. You have so many gifts. Stop pretending to be someone you’re not. Be yourself. Trust in you.”
Lily’s eyes widen. I think I have surprised her. Maybe I have changed more than I thought. I never would have spoken to her like this before, but now it seems natural. Comfortable. With the sleeve of her sweatshirt, Lily wipes tears from her cheeks. Manages a small smile.
With her finger, she writes three letters in the dirt. BFF.
I grin and add an exclamation point. Then I laugh as Lily throws her arms around me.
Emerson watches us hug, clearly happy that we have made up at last.
Maybe Lily has changed. Or maybe she has learned not to change. Our friendship is damaged; there’s no way around that. But perhaps Mom is right. Perhaps by opening my heart to forgiveness, I can allow for rebuilding. By accepting Lily for who she is—and by being her friend.
By midafternoon, rain begins to fall. Hayden sends me a text.
Want to take a walk in the rain?
When? I return.
After dinner?
Ok. I answer.
It’s pouring outside when he arrives, but he’s not wearing a jacket. He has on a sweatshirt and jeans. Raindrops bead like diamonds on his long hair.
“Ready for that walk?” he asks.
“In the pouring rain?”
Hayden nods, his grin looking slightly mischievous.
I tilt my head and look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Okay,” I say doubtfully.
I open the closet and take out an umbrella. Grab my red jacket from the hook near the door. “Mom!” I call.
Her head pops out of the kitchen. I’m sure she’s been listening the whole time, but just in case . . . “Hayden and I are going for a walk. We’ll be back soon.”
Mom smiles and waves at Hayden. She says something to him. He grins at her.
“We will,” he answers.
The sky is pewter and silver. Rain comes down in sheets. Unrelenting. I breathe in the smell of damp cement. Wet grass. And somewhere, orange blossoms. Hayden removes the umbrella from my hands. Holds it over our heads with his right hand. Then he takes my right hand in his left. And we walk out into the night.
Puddles slosh against my boots. Seep through the soles to dampen my socks. A chill sneaks through the open collar of my shirt. Water gathers on the sleeve of my jacket. Runs down my arm in little rivulets.
In the dark, I can’t read his lips, so we can’t talk. But it doesn’t matter. We walk side by side. I feel his hand, warm against mine. His skin is smooth but not soft. His hand is strong, safe. I breathe in and out, tasting the wet air in my mouth. My eyes adjust to the milky darkness, and I see the lights in the houses as we pass them.
Some people are sitting down to dinner around tables in their dining rooms, eating as a family. The way my family used to eat together. Others are watching television. The blue glow from the screen flickers gently. A few cars drive down the street, their lights illuminating the shiny sidewalk in front of us. A sense of calm floods me. Peace.
Then we reach the end of the street and a small park here. Just a grassy area with a tree and benches in the middle. Streetlights that burn amber. Hayden walks me to the tree. The leaves and branches form a shield from the rain. He releases my hand so he can close the umbrella. Sets it down.
Then he places one hand on my waist. Takes my other hand in his. I shiver. Not from the cold. From the closeness. Hayden pulls me against him. I raise my left hand to his shoulder. Look up at him. In the glow of the lights, I can see his expression. Rapt. Focused only on me. As I am focused only on him. And then he begins to move. Dancing with me under the canopy of leaves. Dancing in an empty park. Without music. In the rain. I am drenched, but I don’t even care. I am warmed by him. By the heat of his body against mine. I am pressed close to him. Wrapped in his arms.
I follow his lead, moving with him. Then he starts spinning me. Around and around. Until I am dizzy. And laughing. I look up at him, his face glistening. He looks down at me, and I am mesmerized. Suspended. I don’t even realize we have stopped moving at first.
I don’t know how long we stand like that, neither of us moving. But then I shiver. I am soaking wet. And suddenly freezing. Hayden pulls away and picks up the umbrella. He opens it and holds it over me with one hand while he pulls me close with the other. And that’s how we walk home.
At the front door, I stop to look at him. I don’t want this night to end.
“You need to get inside,” he tells me.
“I don’t want to say good-bye,” I say.
“Tomorrow,” he promises with a soft kiss on my forehead. “Six o’clock.”
And so I go inside. Mom takes one look at me and shakes her head. I just laugh and go take a hot shower. I am asleep in less than twenty minutes. A smile on my face.
The sound of silence
— Hayden —
Tomorrow.
Our last day together.
Our last day in silence.
> Tonight she was more beautiful than she has ever been. She makes my heart race and ache at the same time for what I have found and what I will lose. But I have kept my promise—I have taught her to imagine a different life, one filled with sensations she’s never noticed. I have done for her what no one ever did for me. I have given her the tools to survive no matter where her journey takes her.
And she has given me something even greater. She has healed my heart. In the mirror of her eyes, I can see myself, the me I always wanted to be, but was too afraid to try to become. Hiding behind stutters, anger, bitterness. She has melted all of that away.
Tomorrow night.
Our last day together.
I only hope I can stay silent.
2
— Stella —
Six o’clock. I have been counting down the minutes all day. As if all the hours leading up to now were standing between me and this moment. As if I had to conquer them rather than live them.
I am wearing my Easter dress, the blue one with the lace overlay. I had hoped to see him the day I first wore it. Hoped he would see me wearing his eyes. The dress I chose is the exact shade of Hayden’s eyes when they look at me.
I leave my hair loose in a side part. Tuck the front section back with a silver butterfly bobby pin. I wear the daisy pendant around my neck.
I don’t know where we are going tonight. Only that this is my first official date with Hayden. The first time I have been given permission from both parents to go out with him.
I wait in the living room, holding a small wrapped package on my lap. My present to Hayden. I spent hours searching for it today. I knew what I wanted. I just didn’t know if I would find it. But after hours of searching through endless shelves, I discovered the perfect gift.
I run my fingers over the silver and white diamond shapes on the wrapping paper. Think about the past seventeen days. A short time to cradle so much change. I have grown to love Hayden. Not for what I see on the outside, but for the complicated and beautiful person he is inside. Without my ears, I have learned to see, to touch, to taste, and to feel. I have reached outside myself. I have learned the lessons Hayden wanted to teach me. I can imagine myself differently. Because I am different.
Silence Page 20
