But the worker ignores her and points back to the speakers. I can read part of what he’s saying—“don’t order here.”
Natasha points to her ear again and holds out the phone. He just shakes his head. Ethan types “We’re Deaf, here’s our order” on a large-text app on his phone and gives it to Natasha. But after Natasha shows the message, the employee just walks away.
“W-t-f,” Natasha signs. “He left?”
A car arrives behind us, flashing its headlights. The employee comes back, this time with their manager, who opens the window.
“We’re Deaf, here’s what we want,” Natasha signs one-handed, holding out the orders on her phone.
The manager mumbles something back. Natasha makes the gesture asking him to write it down. The manager squints to look at all of us in the car and shakes his head.
Ethan catches what the man says next, and signs up to Natasha, “He thinks we’re faking . . . ”
“We’re far from the city right now,” Jaden signs. “Maybe not a lot of deaf people ——。”
The car behind us honks. The manager shouts and gestures for us to move our car. Natasha is braver than me—she holds out her phone again. With her strong Deaf accent she says, “This is what we want.”
Isaac is tensing up beside me. I lean into him; my hand drifts to rest near his knee. He inches his own closer until our pinkies are side by side.
The manager is still yelling and refusing us.
“Could try a-p-p?” I sign one-handed to Ethan, guessing we might try to just enter the order ourselves. I mean, I don’t have it downloaded and the service around here might be too spotty to do so, but maybe someone else has it already.
“No, let’s go,” he says.
Natasha nods, flips off the manager, and drives away. When we’re back on the road, she screams out her frustration.
“Seriously, why’d they do that?” I frown.
“I swear, that could’ve been the easiest order of the night for them,” Ethan says and signs. “It was all written down right there. Takes two seconds. Then we’re gone. But they’d rather pull that shit.”
Following some more venting, the rest of our evening errand trip is swift and joyless.
I notice eyes on us as we sign throughout the store, but I’m learning to ignore other people. Ethan stocks up on the arts-and-crafts supplies for tomorrow, then Isaac, Jaden, and Natasha grab a bunch of snacks to get us through the night. I find a perfectly average cheap swimsuit. We fly through the self-checkout line and head back to our safe haven in the woods.
* * *
The next morning, the grass is still damp from dew, but we gather the campers in a circle on the ground to play a game before our scheduled Tuesday afternoon hike. The person standing in the middle has to pick someone who is seated and say, “Honey, if you love me, please smile,” and then that person has to get through a response of “Honey, I love you, but I just can’t smile” without actually smiling in the slightest, to avoid going in the center.
I’m a champ at this game. So far when we’ve played to fill time between other activities, no one has managed to get me to the middle of the circle. Ethan announced that right now we only have time for one more round, so I’m in the clear. That is until, for the first time, Isaac is the one who steps toward me.
He fakes going to the camper to my right but pivots and stops in front of me, batting his eyes and holding up four fingers on each hand to sign the word for “eyelashes,” channeling the theatrical nature of the game. The campers are dying with laughter. I clench my jaw tight, but my lips quiver and threaten to betray me.
“No, no, no,” he signs, stretching out his arm, pretending to caress the side of my face. “Wait for me . . . ” I take a deep breath. He inches closer. “To sign . . . ”
I know exactly what’s coming, as well as the response it will elicit from me. Looking up at the sky, I feel a blush rise in my cheeks, very aware of how many people are watching.
Isaac waves for my attention before continuing. “Honey, if you love me . . . ”
Of all the ways to sign “love,” he used the I-L-Y sign. I mean, it’s all part of the game, right? He’s still pointing to himself as I shake my head, facing him directly and forgetting that he’s not done with his request.
“Please . . . smile?” He tilts his head and gives a wide grin of his own, which is contagious. Very much so.
It’s taking everything I’ve got to keep my expression neutral. Now comes the hardest part.
“I love you, honey,” I sign super fast, biting my lip and watching his head lean forward, eyes wide in anticipation. No big deal—I’m just dropping the L-word, casually, to a guy I’m super into in front of an entire crowd of people. He rests his chin on his knuckles and bats his eyelashes again. “But I—” Then Isaac switches it up, dropping his smile into a dramatic frown and clutching his hands to his heart. Peering at me with those big brown eyes.
And I forget to clench my mouth tight, letting slip the edge of a grin.
Game over.
“I got you!” he signs, jumping up in celebration. “Finally! A victory!”
As the kids and staff break the circle and get ready for the hike, Isaac helps me up. He’s still laughing, and I playfully swat him away.
“Why are you laughing?” I sign, standing up on my toes to get in his face, the game-ending smirk having not yet left mine. But this makes him laugh even harder, a mostly silent, wheezing, full-chest, adorable kind of chuckle. “Are you seriously giggling right now?”
He watches my lips, reading them carefully, and purses his lips together, nodding.
I stand back flat on the ground and sign this next part quickly before I lose my confidence. “Okay, that’s cute.”
Then I hurry away, leaving Isaac there, smiling.
Chapter Thirteen
The weather for the next few days is spotty. Storm clouds drift in on Wednesday, but we still get to be outdoors most of the day. The light drizzle turns into a proper downpour on Thursday, though. We’re stuck with indoor activities or hiding out in the warmth of the dining hall for extended meals. After hours, most of the counselors gather in the staff cabin. I grab a jacket from my bunk and step outside to join them, pulling up the hood to cover my hearing aids from the drizzle that remains. Ethan and Isaac are at the firepit, fighting the light raindrops to get a small flame going.
Ethan catches me looking their way and waves me over. He and Isaac haven’t managed to start the fire yet, but they’ve gathered a decent amount of damp kindling. Ethan’s got a raincoat on, while Isaac is sitting on the bench, legs scrunched up, in an oversize bright-green poncho.
“Not going well?” I call out, bunching up the ends of my jacket sleeves in my hands as I walk over.
“Nothing’s dry enough,” Ethan says and signs. “I’ll be right back.” He jogs off down the path in the direction of the craft barn and dance barn.
“Why are you here? It’s raining,” I say and sign to Isaac.
“Rain is almost finished.” He shrugs. “Want to ——，” he asks, along with a familiar Y-shape sign, but at the moment I can’t remember it.