Chapter 19 #2
This is what he gets, I think as I stand there, trying to figure out what to say or do. In my periphery, Archie is crawling into a coffin and lying down. The top closes, and I wonder how long he’s going to be in there, but I refuse to ask.
‘This is for something personal,’ I reply when Dex’s fingers stutter. Dex gapes as I pull him forward. ‘We want to try these out. For sex.’
The salesman just nods, and I drag Dex along, feeling him stumble along behind me, his eyes wide.
‘You…you…sex?’
‘Yes, you’re not dead, so it has to be personal. You want a coffin for sex.’
The top to the coffin Archie was in opens, and he pops up, staring at us. ‘Try this one. Very comfy.’
Dex’s body is trembling. I feel it in his hand, and when I look over, he’s laughing. My lips curl up as he moves toward the coffin, watching as Archie gets out of it. Then Dex loosens his hand from mine and takes Archie’s place.
‘Come on. Let’s see how strong this is.’
My cheeks heat, and I shake my head at Dex. I was trying to get back at him earlier, but it’s backfired.
Absolutely not. No fucking in coffins.
When I don’t crawl in next to Dex, or on top of him, for that matter, he hops out of the coffin and moves toward Archie.
Seeing his quick approach, Archie takes a step back, and Dex stops abruptly, obviously getting the hint.
Instead, he just tells Archie from a yard away, ‘You right. Very nice. Comfy. Thank you.’
Archie nods in agreement and then turns back to the salesman.
‘I want buy.’
Dex stares at me, and I crane my head toward the exit. He obviously can take a fucking hint because he grabs my hand, and we rush out of there. As soon as the light hits us, I feel him burst out in laughter, and I can’t help but join him.
‘You got into a coffin,’ I say, my chuckle filling my lungs. When was the last time I did this? When was the last time I truly laughed?
‘I wasn’t lying. It was comfy.’
I shake my head and drag him away. ‘Why you think Archie wants that?’
‘Don’t know. Probably to sleep in?’
‘Vampire for sure.’
Dex shrugs. ‘Maybe.’ His eyes catch on something else, and I let out a long sigh as he pulls me toward a tent full of tie-dyed shirts.
‘No matching shirts,’ I tell him, but he just rolls his eyes, holding one up to me. Bright pink with green and purple swirls.
‘Can’t match. Each one is unique,’ he tells me, then tucks the pink one under his arm and grabs one swirled with turquoise, maroon, and white. He holds it up to himself, then turns from side to side as I do my best not to groan.
‘Makes your eyes look pretty,’ I tell him.
His cheeks flush bright red, and he looks a little startled. I make a grabby-hand gesture, and he frowns as he hands them off to me. ‘I’m gonna buy.’
I shake my head. ‘No, I will buy. You go get frozen lemonade.’ I point across the little walkway to a stall that’s selling that and salty soft pretzels, and his eyes light up.
It’s not exactly fine-dining date food, but from the look on his face, it might be better.
He bounces on his toes and nods. ‘Yes yes yes. You want to share or get two?’
‘Share,’ I tell him. ‘Two straws.’ That’s date-like, right?
His smile softens, and he leans in. I know what he’s going for, and I’m tempted to deny him the kiss just to tease him. To remind him I’m not supposed to be given kisses until I get my final score.
But I’m not a fool either.
I let his lips brush mine, and just before he pulls away, I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck and hold him there. It’s still chaste, but it lingers.
I feel him hum against my mouth, and I catch the sound on my tongue, swallowing it down.
“Thank you,” I murmur, just to watch his lips part in a soft inhale. He’s earned a few treats, too, for being so him. For making me laugh and taking away the nerves I felt at the beginning of this.
As I watch him weave through the growing crowd, I test the word ‘boyfriend’ on my fingers. I spell it, fingers against my thigh, then imagine what it would feel like to sign it and mean him.
Dex.
To claim him as mine.
I haven’t had a boyfriend since…him. The asshole I never think about. The asshole who taught me I could never trust a hearing man.
I was in my early twenties when we met. I’d been in college, but I was still young enough to think the world was going to be kind. That at a Deaf school, I would be safe from the people who wanted to hurt me.
But I wasn’t safe. He was a student at Gallaudet too—hearing and not even ASL fluent, but he was trying. I could lipread as well as anyone could and spoke to the best of my abilities, so I thought it was fine to meet him halfway.
I introduced him to my Deaf friends, and he took me to hearing parties.
I thought I was in love. But one time, he didn’t know I could see his reflection in the mirror, and he started laughing about me to his friends.
About how my voice sounded. About how he could say anything and I wouldn’t know he was talking shit.
About how he could get away with cheating, and why should he care how it hurt me because I was just someone to pass the time with until he graduated and moved back across the country.
Nothing felt stable until I was back home and surrounded by the people I cared about. Only in that time, I’d gotten bitter.
I’d grown tired.
I’d been bound and determined to never put myself in that position ever again.
Then Dex had come along and changed everything.
Looking down at the T-shirts in my hands, I feel a tiny pulse in my chest. It’s almost like a second heartbeat. It beats out the pattern of his name. D E X. D E X. D E X. D E X.
I know this feeling too well. I wasn’t sure I was really in love with Robbie the way I told myself I was. Robbie was easy, simple. He would never ask me for more than what we had, so I could use him as a scapegoat for never moving past my ex.
Only he’d gone and fallen in love with Thom, and with that love, he brought Dex into my life.
I want to hate him for it, but I can’t.
Dex glances over his shoulder just as he ducks into the queue of people, and he smiles, bright and full of sunshine. He has no business being with someone like me, but I’m selfish enough to want him anyway.
Even if that means ruining him a little bit.
Only…something in me tells me that might not happen. Not if I’m willing to try.
With a breath, I walk over to the next table and try to distract myself with the selection of books. I eye one—an old-looking version of Dracula. It makes me think of Archie, and I laugh, reaching for it, when suddenly, I feel a tap on the shoulder.
I turn. I don’t recognize the man behind me, but he’s got a vendor badge hanging around his neck, and he’s yelling something. I can make out the sound of his voice, but not the words, and his bushy mustache is making it impossible to see his lips at all.
‘Wait,’ I sign. I start to touch my ear when he grabs me by the wrist. I feel myself make a noise of outrage as he yanks me back into the T-shirt tent.
“Stop!” I try with my voice. Maybe if he hears my Deaf accent, he’ll get it.
But he doesn’t. He’s shouting over his shoulder now, and when I try to tug away, he holds me harder.
Chaos churns inside my chest, tightening and tightening until I can sense the first tremor of a panic attack unfurling. I don’t know what set this man off, don’t know why he’s gripping me so tightly, and I have no way to get any answers.
This hasn’t happened to me in so long. Years, in fact. I take a fortifying breath and use the strength I’ve been building at the gym to break free of him.
He lunges for me, but I back up and smack into someone behind me. As I turn, I see a very tall, very broad man wearing a white T-shirt with black words printed on the front: SECURITY.
The man says something I can only assume is “What’s going on here?”
I hold up my hand. In my periphery, I can see the vendor shouting and pointing at me, but using my Deaf privilege, I ignore him and wait for the security guard to look at me again.
When he does, I touch my ear and drag my finger to my lips and mouth, ‘Deaf. Me.’
The security guard blinks, then sighs and says something to the man. When I turn to look at him, he’s glowering at me, his mouth moving way too fast for me to even hope to understand what he’s saying.
It’s obvious the security guard doesn’t sign because he looks both frustrated and confused.
There’s a crowd gathering outside the tent, and suddenly, people give way, and Dex appears. He looks furious—like an avenging angel.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I read off his lips, and then he signs it.
I’m relieved he’s here, but it still stings. It figures I’d end up needing my hearing—whatever he counts as—to pull me out of trouble at a Deaf-friendly event.
And just watch. Dex isn’t even going to ask if I want to take care of this. He’s going to steamroll the whole thing and treat me like I can’t do this myself, and—
‘Want me to interpret?’
I blink at him. He repeats the question. My throat feels too thick when I try to swallow, but I dip my chin slightly.
He’s not the perfect interpreter, but if I temper my anger and go slow, it’ll be okay.
He motions for me to go ahead, and the anger and frustration in my chest tangle with something dangerously close to love.
‘I don’t know what this man is screaming at me about,’ I start. Dex steps into my eyeline next to the security guard, who looks at him for a long beat, then back at me. ‘I was looking at books, and he grabbed my arm and started pulling me into his tent.’
The man behind me must start shouting again because Dex’s signs change to large and angry, his face matching the expression the man is wearing.
‘He was attempting to steal two T-shirts from my stall, and when I asked him to pay first before walking out, he ignored me!’
Dex’s face does something that tells me he wants to intervene, but he doesn’t.
I roll my eyes and turn to look at the vendor. ‘I’m Deaf, you asshole. You didn’t even try to get my attention before you grabbed me and started shouting! I was just looking at the table next to this tent!’ My hands are shaking, and I can see Dex relaying my fury by his expression.
Fuck, I want to kiss him for that. I want to lay him out and make him see god for all the ways he’s been getting it right this whole time.
The security guard waves his hand at me, and Dex interprets for him. ‘Are you going to pay for those shirts?’
I glance around and spot them where they fell after I threw them, and I scoff. ‘Fuck no. I don’t want anything from this stall.’
‘Theft!’ the vendor insists.
Dex doesn’t remain neutral for that one. He rolls his eyes and signs as he speaks. ‘That’s bullshit. He didn’t take your T-shirts and run. He was two feet over there, looking at books.’
‘Were you a witness?’ the security guard asks.
Dex lifts his chin. “Yes,” he says, then signs it.
Oh, he’s lying. I can tell. He didn’t see anything until the T-shirt asshole started shouting. I fight back a grin as the security guard sighs and shrugs.
‘It’s obvious he wasn’t stealing.’
‘I want him trespassed!’ the vendor insists. Dex’s fingers have a little trouble spelling that word, but I think he spells it so I know exactly what the vendor is trying to do. He wants me banned from the street fair.
The security guard gives the guy a flat look. ‘I’m not going to do that over a misunderstanding.’
I turn to face the vendor. ‘You might want to work on your social skills, you dick. This is discrimination.’
The guy’s face reddens. ‘I’m the least bigoted person in the world!’
I burst into laughter and turn back to Dex. ‘Finished. Don’t need to hear more. Let’s go.’
Dex looks at the security guard. “We can go?”
The guy nods, then must make some noise because Dex stops halfway to reaching for my hand. ‘Better if you don’t shop here anymore,’ the guy says, and Dex signs for me.
I burst into laughter. ‘I wouldn’t shop here if my life depended on it.’ Then I take Dex’s hand in mine, exit the tent, and pull him along after me.