I took April to a taco joint and ordered two of everything on the menu. Then I flashed the fake ID Knight had hooked me up with as a joke on my eighteenth birthday and got us margaritas, too. I made an effort to speak to her in sign language, because texting from across the table seemed extra weird. I even smiled. I was desperate not to go back home with my tail between my legs. So I decided to fake it till I made it.

It worked.

April smacked my back when we left the restaurant. “You’re cool, Raymond. Who’d have thought? Not me, that’s for sure.”

I was mentally exhausted from talking. I needed to close my eyes and shut the world out for a month or two.

“Hey, so my friend is throwing a party next week…” she started, and I darted my eyes to her pleadingly.

I’d die if she asked me to join them. I shook my head slowly.

April burst into howls of laughter. “Um, no, my little grasshopper. Redirect that thought. I was wondering if I could give you money for some beer and other liquor.”

I nodded. That I could do.

She grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’ll need to lighten up eventually. You know that, right?”

I didn’t, but people were starting to make it impossible for me not to.

November

Then there was a boy.

An actual boy.

With limbs and everything. A real boy. That noticed. Me.

Josh: Party 2nite?

“Ask him if the party’s in his pants, and if you can bring a plus one.” April peeked at my phone behind my shoulder, reading my incoming text message. “I’d climb Josh like a tree hugger saving a rainforest given the slightest opportunity.”

I tucked the phone back into the pocket of my jeans, chuckling.

“Come on.” She flung herself over my bed—we had bunk beds, and of course, I’d agreed to take the lower bunk on day one—kicking her socked feet in the air. “We’ve been here for months, and you haven’t gone to one party. That’s, legit, the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m happy you’ve never had to deal with truly sad things, then,” I signed to her.

I’d been doing a lot of signing lately. More than I had in years in Todos Santos. I finally got why Dad had been so desperate for me to come here.

It forced me out of my shell.

It broke said shell like a glass ball.

Truth was, I couldn’t not sign. I needed to buy groceries. Communicate with people around me. Talk to teachers. Survive.

“I have some homework to catch up on,” I lied, ducking my head to my MacBook. The typewriter next to it was getting dusty.

April threw a pillow at me, laughing. “Liar, liar, thong on fire. You’re acing all your courses and flying back home tomorrow morning. You don’t have anything going on. Come. Party. Chill. And give Josh a decent chance.”

Something in my gut twisted at the mention of Josh’s name. Not because I didn’t like him. The opposite, actually. He was mute—as a kid, he’d suffered trauma to his vocal cords in a car accident and could no longer produce any sound—and I felt oddly defensive about our tender friendship.

I’d seen Josh on campus for the first time three months ago, in the cafeteria. He had a smooth, young face, dark skin, and striking features. He’d been clad in white jockey silk and a hoodie. A flock of girls had cawed around him, so loud against his comfortable silence. His eyes had met mine across the room, as if I’d called his name. I’d clutched my books tighter to my chest and slipped out of the cafeteria.

I’d tried to convince myself he hadn’t really noticed me, that I was just so thirsty for the attention I was no longer getting from Knight, I’d started imagining things.

Then, overnight, I saw Josh everywhere—on the front lawn on campus, at the local Starbucks, at the library, in three different lectures, and at the stables where I volunteered as part of my ongoing therapy with animals. No matter where I went, he was there, until we had no choice but to smile hello at each other—not because we knew one another, but because it was pointless to pretend we weren’t familiar with each other’s faces.

April and her friends were gaga about him, so I found out his name and that he was teaching special needs kids horseback riding three times a week. The first time I noticed he spoke in sign language, my heart slowed, almost coming to a full stop.

He hadn’t noticed me, focused instead on his conversation with April. They’d stood across the hallway from me, oblivious to my presence. He had a laid-back, confident smile, like he didn’t consider his muteness a disadvantage. He had a roommate, Ryan, who’d sometimes interpret for him, the way April did for me. And sometimes he’d type things on his phone to communicate. But he always walked with the self-assurance of someone unstoppable, inspiring me to think maybe I could feel that way someday, too.

I knew with fierce certainty that our paths were bound to collide. We were both freshmen, studying in a small college in North Carolina, and both of us were mute. My instinct had proved true about four weeks after I initially saw him.

I’d hurried into Starbucks to escape the drizzle, tossed my scarf and pea coat onto a table by the window, got myself hot cocoa, and had the barista, Nicole, punch the timesheet Malory had given me—testimony that I was keeping up with my twice-a-week sessions. I’d always kept my Starbucks visits as brief as possible, staying the twenty minutes Malory requested from me and dashing back home.

But this time, when I’d turned around to take my seat, Josh was perched on a stool at my table, clad in his jockey outfit and a smile that could melt hearts. Nervous, but open. I’d liked that he was confident, but still not completely well-versed in his attractiveness, like Knight was.

“Am I that invisible?” He’d tilted his ball cap down and signed to me, knowing I would understand him.

There was something in my stomach. Not exactly butterflies, but not the usual, empty hum I usually got when guys—even handsome guys—spoke to me. I’d lifted my eyebrows.

I could do it. I could answer him. I could use teenage as a verb.

“You weren’t here when I came in,” I signed, poking out my lower lip.

“Prove it,” he challenged, knotting his arms across his chest.

He was long-limbed and lean—good looking, but not intimidatingly so. I could imagine him accompanying his mother to the mall or playing Xbox. Things Knight did, technically speaking, too, but he still looked too untouchable and beautiful to be bothered.

“That’s ridiculous,” I motioned.

I reminded myself to breathe. I was doing it. I was having a conversation. With a stranger. A breakthrough.

“Says who?” he asked.

“Says me.” I nearly snorted.

“Pretty sure you’ll need to prove your case and not vice versa. I’ve been taking some pre-law courses.”

“Where’s your drink, then? If you were here before, you must’ve ordered something.” I bit my lip.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, which was buzzed close to the scalp.

He sighed. “You got me. I just saw an opening to talk to you and went for it. Clearly, my plan was not bulletproof.”

“Are you stalking me?” I asked, mostly joking, but I couldn’t help but feel a dash of panic, too, a familiar tug in my stomach. I was not in the best headspace.