Chapter Thirteen. A Highly Suspect Game of Go Fish
Chapter Thirteen
A Highly Suspect Game of Go Fish
After loading onto the bus bright and early after the Atlanta concert, I get a few more hours of sleep and emerge to find Ginger curled up on the couch with her head on Will’s lap.
In between sneezing fits, he plays with her ears and talks to Calum, who’s eating a bowl of Lucky Charms Oatmeal. Mateo is air-drumming while wearing earbuds.
All the members are in their personal wardrobe rather than their soft-boy, DAYDREAM clothes. They still seem like the Renegade Wizard boys. More relaxed—more themselves—than the personas they display in public.
“Good morning,” Lachlan signs one-handedly, and passes me a mug of coffee.
I drink half the cup in one long sip. When I look up, Lachlan laughs, his brilliant blue eyes shimmering in the sunlight.
“You’re hardcore,” he says. “Even I don’t drink it black.”
My response is interrupted by Felix waving from the table. He scoots over on the bench to make room for me, his laptop in front of him. I join him and beam when I see Ava on-screen.
“Hey!” I sign. “How are you? Is my sister a good teacher?”
“You’re better. But she’s cool! She also lets me do stuff my parents won’t. And she taught me cuss words!” Ava gushes. I sigh. Because of course. That sounds exactly like my sister. “How’s L-I-X? Is he a good student?” she continues.
I glance at Felix. He wears a lost frown, unable to keep up with our signing speed. “Surprisingly, he’s not bad. Annoying, sure, but not bad.”
“And are you two”—she looks between us a few times with a nearly imperceptible smirk—“friends?”
“He’s tolerable. Sometimes.”
“I’m so happy that he knows so much now! He’s learning fast!” Her signing is slower now, her bright, toothy grin an exact match for Felix’s.
I notice Felix repeating her movements underneath the table, and when he pieces together the gist, he blushes. “Thank you,” he signs, lowering a flat hand from his chin. “I’m learning fast for you! Nat’s teaching … many … new signs!” He uses my sign name, but somehow, I know he means “Nat.”
“I have to go,” Ava announces, checking the time on her phone. “I have tennis practice.” She waves the “I love you” sign at Felix and me. We both return it, and she hangs up.
“She’s right. You’re getting a lot better.”
His blush deepens and his lips move, but I don’t catch what he says.
“Again,” I touch my right fingers to my left palm.
He repeats himself, and I stare at his full lips with intense focus, but his speech remains a mystery. I massage my temples and sigh. “Your accent makes my brain hurt.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“For starters, your lips don’t pucker on an ‘O.’ So, instead of ‘no,’ you say ‘naur.’” I do my best to articulate the difference in pronunciation. “It makes lipreading extra hard.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Calum and Will snickering.
Felix recoils. “I do not sound like that!”
“Bro, you totally do.” Calum laughs.
His face sinks, but we all get distracted when Will breaks into an aggressive sneezing fit.
Felix hurries to unzip his fanny pack and starts rooting around.
It must have the same magic as Mary Poppins’ bag because he keeps pulling things out of it.
TOM FORD’s “Fucking Fabulous” cologne, a jade facial roller, an Aero chocolate bar.
He discards the random items on the table before finding Zyrtec. He stands and shoves a pill into Will’s mouth. Will gulps it down with a sip of coffee.
“Another solution is to stop sticking your face in dog fur, dumbass.” Calum flicks Will’s forehead.
He wipes his runny nose on his tie-dye Jimi Hendrix hoodie sleeve and trains his puffy red eyes on Calum. “I would die for this dog.”
While they bicker like little kids, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Ginger tries to squirm out of Will’s grasp to alert but can’t. I laugh. “I got it,” I tell her, and she returns to wrestling.
Sun, June 23, 9:37 AM
[Jo]
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what u want me to do with all this painting supplies?? some guy named manny dropped them at center yesterday
[Natalie]
Omg I emailed Manny’s Hardware Store to ask about discounted rates for revamp supplies but I’m happy he donated them instead! You can put them in the K-5 classroom for now
[Jo]
ok. also moms pissed again! manny NOT my fault!! have u talked to her?
[Natalie]
I’m not talking to her if she doesn’t talk to me
[Jo]
i didn’t think you’ll last THIS long! i think mom feels bad abt everything. she’s even mad at me for stuff too. esp when i mention u
[Natalie]
Well, she’s more than welcome to apologize to us!
[Jo]
ur putting me in middle!!!
[Natalie]
Omg, well, maybe you shouldn’t meddle!
[Jo]
I’M TRYING TO HELP!!
[Natalie]
I know. I’m sorry. But I don’t want to talk about her, okay? It’s stressful being on tour but also nice to have a break from mom’s unpredictability
[Jo]
ok. i’m sorry too. ily
(remember my signed album!!!)
[Natalie]
Stop teaching Ava bad words and I’ll consider it!
(ily2 )
My excitement over chatting with Ava and the donation turns into frustration. It’s like every time I manage to momentarily forget about Mom’s deceitfulness and start enjoying myself, the feeling of betrayal cuts right back through me.
I only realize I’m death-gripping my phone and grinding my teeth when Felix lays a hand on my knee. “You OK?”
I gulp. “Yes.”
He motions for me to follow him. We pass through the sleeping quarters and enter the back room. He settles on the cushy leather couch, and I drop down next to him, careful to leave space between us.
“You sure you’re alright?” he asks again. “You weren’t very convincing.”
I consider him—the concern on his face, brows tipped into a frown. It’s the same openness he has when talking to Ava, the same gentle sincerity he’s shown in dressing rooms and late-night study sessions. I guess there’s no use lying. “Nope,” I reply simply.
“D’you wanna talk?”
“Nope.”
“Alrighty. But if you change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
“—I’m here.” He watches me for a beat, and I can practically see the gears turning, then his expression switches to concentration.
His fingers wiggle as he thinks. “Last night … we didn’t …
practice. We practice more now?” His choppy signing is equivalent to.
Putting. A. Period. After. Every. Word. But for some reason, I find it strangely endearing.
Engaging Teacher Mode, I reply, “Actually, I have an idea.” I lean over and open one of the cabinets stocked with board games and grab a deck of cards.
“I know you don’t do well with voices-off lessons, but I think you can handle this.
You know enough ASL. Plus, playing games is something you can do with Ava. ”
He smirks. “Oh, you have no idea what you’re getting into. I’m the king of card games. The only person who’s ever beaten me is Aves.”
I scoff. “We’ll see, Pretty Boy. I mastered all sorts of games when my dad—” I cut myself off.
When my dad was in the hospital is what I almost said.
DVDs, cards, and board games were the only entertainment available, and most of the movies didn’t have captions, so we played hours upon hours of games.
“… when I was a kid.” I swallow the resurgence of bittersweet memories and deal the cards.
He gives me another unconvinced look but thankfully drops it as we start a cutthroat game of Go Fish.
Felix’s focus continually shifts between examining his cards and studying my hands and face; his own expression is alight with intrigue, seemingly spellbound by the immersive lesson.
He one-handedly copies my signs and absentmindedly commits them to memory.
The fierce, competitive smirk on his face fades when I win the first round.
I laugh. “How about a bet?” I suggest. “Best out of five. Loser will owe the winner a favor.”
“A favor?” He quirks a brow. “Can it be anything?” I swear when he asks that, it triggers my stomach to do a mini flip.
That’s impossible, though. Because the only time I’ve gotten this weird, fluttery feeling was when I had a crush on my friend at residential school. My friend. Because I don’t get crushes on people I don’t platonically like or have an emotional connection with.
And I sure as hell don’t platonically like or have an emotional connection with Felix Song. If he has one hater, it’s me. If he has no haters, I’m dead.
I decide the coffee isn’t settling well with my empty stomach. That explains it.
I pull a poker face. “Within reason, I guess.”
“You’re on. As long as a handwritten note declaring yourself my biggest fan and saying I’m the most talented and handsome devil you know is ‘within reason.’” That infernal smirk of his reappears, and I roll my eyes, which earns a laugh.
“Get ready to owe me a favor, Pretty Boy,” I challenge him, my confidence at an all-time high.
It doesn’t last long, though, because he wins the next three rounds. With no hope of winning, I toss my cards onto the table, scowling at his smugness.
“Well, well, well. Looks like someone owes me a letter,” he singsongs.
“I want a rematch. You cheated.”
“How did I cheat?!” He clasps a hand over his heart. “We can play a few more rounds, but no take backs on my letter.”
He doesn’t glance at the cards as he reshuffles the deck.
Instead, his eyes rove over my face, a satisfied glint shining in them.
I wonder how many girls would give up their firstborn child to have Felix look at them like this.
Thousands, probably. But Felix isn’t looking at one of those girls. He’s looking at me.
I gulp. Get a grip, Natalie. He probably thinks that it’s physically impossible for anyone to view him as anything besides the center of the goddamn universe and that I’ll fall for his goofy charm like a total fangirl. Pfft. No freakin’ way.