know why. When I was hopping in and out of foster homes and digging my way into trouble, the centers that had reached out to me were my rocks. They kept me tethered when my anger and rebellion threatened to unmoor me. Even after some scrapes with the law, they’d welcomed me with open arms. I hadn’t deserved it, of course, but they hadn’t let that stop them from providing me with the support I needed. And that meant everything to me.
As an adult, the joy was even more profound, the kind of deep and lasting pleasure than can only come from being where I was supposed to be and helping in a way only I could. I tapped Andrew on the shoulder as I approached, and Andrew’s hands and fingers flew as he signed his hello to me, our conversation moving with ease and a fluidity that was gorgeous.
Andrew had been lashing out in patterns that followed my own from his age. When speaking was an obstacle, making friends was hard as hell, and Andrew was having no luck at his new school. There wasn’t the kind of support a deaf student needed in his classes, either, and it meant he stuck out even more than normal.
“Another fight?” I signed as I threw him a knowing look.
“I hate when they make fun of how I talk. How am I supposed to know what to sound like when I don’t hear any fucking sounds?” His signs were sharp, the anger lashing out in slices and punctuated jerks.
I shrugged to disarm him. “You aren’t supposed to know what you should sound like. You’re supposed to know that some people are assholes and some are good guys, and you should save your energy for the good ones instead of wasting it on the shitheads.”
It was a familiar conversation and he wasn’t having it today, deciding to change the subject instead of admitting I was right. I couldn’t blame him. Sometimes it was easier to ignore your problems as much as possible, at least for a little while.
Even after trying to come to terms with my speech impediment, I’d still rather sign than talk. My stutter was present when I was calm and straight-up debilitating when I was upset. It could get to the point that no amount of backtracking or trying to find word alternatives made a difference—my tongue, lips, and brain refused to connect. And I knew I sounded like an idiot.
There was a look people got when they heard it, this kind of immediate pity that made my self-awareness and self-consciousness fester. Sometimes they’d speak slowly to me, like just because I couldn’t say words, I must not be able to understand them either. And that’s if people were trying to be nice.
When they were mean? Fuck, I’d spent my whole life being ruthlessly mocked and tormented by other kids, foster parents… even my own parents, during my short time with them. So yeah, signing was a gift and one I was grateful to have.
“Your tattoos are so badass,” Andrew signed to me, his gaze taking in my arms, neck, and chest. I was wearing a shirt with a deep V-neck that showed off the intricate design on my chest, ravens circling a shield over my sternum. It had hurt like a bitch to get, and I didn’t regret a second of it.
“Thanks,” I signed back, relaxed in the ability to ‘speak’ freely without worrying my stutter would hold me back, and happy that Andrew seemed to be loosening up a bit. “They make me feel badass.”
“When will you tattoo me?” His black eyes twinkled with thirteen-year-old mirth.
I raised an eyebrow. “When you’re eighteen.”
Andrew threw his hands in the air and pretended to be irritated. “Not cool, man,” he signed. “I thought we were friends. That’s going to take forever!”
“We’re totally friends. See these here?” I pointed to my knuckles. Across them was written the letters H-A-L-F F-U-L-L. “We call these job stoppers. Tattoos are like any other action—there are consequences you have to be able to be man enough to accept. And you aren’t a man until you’re eighteen.”
But I waggled my eyebrows as I signed it, softening any blow Andrew might perceive.
“They didn’t stop you from getting a job.”
“I’m kind of a one-trick pony now, though. I thought all I wanted to do was tattoo, so I fell head first into the job. Literally.”
I pulled my close-cropped hair above my ear tight. I knew that Andrew could see