Give Me a Sign(49)

“Shh, go to sleep,” I say, laughing at his performance. “You have work in the morning.”

“Mwah!” He plants a sloppy wet kiss on my cheek, then reaches for Ben’s hand. But before the two can walk to their cabin together, Oliver glances at someone behind me. “Whoops, sorry, love. Didn’t mean to anger your boyfriend.”

“My what?” I turn around and find Isaac, the only other sober one here, standing still in the parking lot. Is he waiting for me? He’s fidgeting with his hands, not meeting my eyes.

“Hey,” I say, approaching Isaac as everyone else leaves for their cabins.

He shifts around the gravel in front of him with the tip of his sneaker before looking up at me. “I don’t understand.”

I tilt my head, summoning patience as I wait for him to say something else. But he’s taking too long. “Understand what?”

“You.”

“Me?” I ask. He shakes his head and looks down. I wave my hand out and ask another question. “What do you mean?”

He takes a deep breath. “You said you liked me?” He leaves his hand against his chest while signing with the other. “But . . . ” He waves, exasperated, in the direction of where I was standing with Oliver.

“My friend? That I hung out with because you didn’t wait for me to play the game tonight?” My hands are flying. I’m the one who was open with my feelings. He has no reason to be coming at me like this. “You’re confusing me. Yes, I said that I like you. But you never said you like me.”

“I’m trying. We hung out with my friends last night. We talked all afternoon.” He runs a hand back through his hair.

“I don’t know!” I sign, flinging my hand out from my forehead, unable to think of a more coherent response. It really all boils down to one thing. “I don’t know. You never said it back.”

“With action, showing, doing—not words.” He drops his arms and takes a few steps up the path.

I wipe rain droplets from my face, smudging the little mascara I’d applied back when I’d expected a fun evening with Isaac. I jog after him and tap on his shoulder. “I don’t understand what you want.”

“I need to say it?” he asks.

We’re standing close, alone on this dark path, the moon finally shining out from behind the rain clouds. I step closer to him. “It would help.” I pull the sign tight to my chest in the small space between us.

He’s watching my lips, and this time I’m not saying anything.

Slowly, he leans forward, eyes never straying, but he hesitates and stops a few inches away from me with his mouth slightly open. I can feel his breath on my lips. I drop my hands, my right arm swinging forward to touch his hand. He catches it and laces our fingers together.

I raise my eyebrows in question—is he going to do it or not? I stand on my toes, tantalizingly close to him, until he finally closes the distance between us.

His lips are warm and soft. But they’re gone before it dawns on me that I’m kissing Isaac.

My bottom lip sticks to his as he pulls away. He leans back and opens his eyes, a smile widening across his face.

I raise my hand to sign as I mouth the words, “You still have to say it.”

He arches an eyebrow and gives a slow nod. “Yes, I like you, too.”

“Really . . . ? Are you sure?” I tease him. “Hmmmm . . .”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes. “And you still like me?”

I shrug. “Maybe you should k-i-s-s me again.”

He taps his fingers against his chin, feigning deep thought. “Let me think.” He wraps his arms around me.

But something is nagging me, so I ask. “Wait, what’s the sign?”

“Kiss,” he demonstrates, using both hands. He presses his fingers against his thumbs and brings his hands together so that his fingertips touch, representative of two people coming together. He pulls me close. “Your signing was pretty good . . . ”

“Right!” A big smile crosses my face. “That was good? Signing fast, too. I guess we need to fight more.”

He shakes his head, reaching out for my arms and drawing me toward him once more, for a long, slow kiss this time.

We’re pushing curfew, but I don’t care, because there’s nowhere I’d rather be.

Chapter Seventeen

At Sunday morning lake time, we’re greeted by two very hungover lifeguards lying horizontal on the beach chairs. Oliver squints up through his sunglasses upon our arrival. He gives the smallest of waves. “Don’t drown.”

“And don’t be too loud,” Ben says, pulling his towel over his face to block the sun. “—— if you must drown, do it quietly.”

The campers are waiting outside the fence playing games on the grass. Ethan clears his throat, but neither lifeguard moves.

“—— two more minutes,” Oliver says. “We’ll be ready then.”

I suppress my laughter when I notice what’s about to happen. Down near the shoreline, Jaden and Isaac have filled two buckets with water and are slowly making their way back up the beach. Ethan holds out one finger and looks at his watch. When it hits nine o’clock, he nods.

A little too eagerly, Jaden and Isaac dump the water on Oliver and Ben, who lunge from their seats.