“And I get that,” Simone says. “But that’s why I was angry that night.”
“That makes so much more sense. I knew it couldn’t possibly be about sneaking out, ’cause I’m convinced you and Bobby have done that before.”
I thought this would break the tension and make Simone laugh, but she just looks away. “I don’t know, that’s all complicated right now.”
“Again?”
“Well, it’s like he wants to come back next summer—if there even is a next summer—but I just got into this program at school to be an aide, and I need the credit to graduate. I’m definitely not coming back. I actually have to move to Minnesota for a full year, so there’s a lot to figure out.”
“That is a lot. I’m sad that you won’t be back next year. I’ll miss you. Congratulations on the program, though. Are you excited?”
“Definitely.” She waves a hand. “The timing of it all isn’t great, but the program is definitely a good thing.”
“That’s good. I’m glad,” I say sincerely, but I understand the Bobby piece is complicated. “Oh—hey, I meant to ask you if you want something from the store. Isaac and I are gonna grab some snacks.”
“I’m fine, thanks.” She goes back to her book, so I just stare at the fire while I wait for Isaac. He finally walks over from his cabin.
“Ready to go to the store?” I ask him.
“Of course,” Isaac signs. Natasha and Jaden are both approaching the fire, scrolling through their phones. Isaac cups his hands around his mouth and hoots for their attention.
“What?” Natasha signs.
“Can you drive us to Super Mart?” Isaac asks. They’d driven to camp together, and I’ve learned that their friendship goes back even further than I would’ve guessed. Apparently, Isaac’s hearing mom met Natasha’s Deaf parents through a support group for families learning ASL when Isaac was a toddler.
Natasha frowns, gesturing toward Jaden. “We’re on duty. Can’t you wait for tomorrow?”
I tap Isaac’s shoulder. “I have my car, remember?”
“Oh right! Let’s go.” He hops up and retrieves his wallet from his backpack, leaving the bag on the bench next to Jaden.
“Need anything?” I ask them.
“Whatever snacks you both get will be fine,” Jaden signs. “If you wanna share.”
“I got you,” Isaac signs.
Isaac and I make our way to the parking lot. I catch him giving me a silly look. “What?”
We’re walking down a dimly illuminated path, so I watch Isaac’s hands signing in the moonlight. “You have to wear your glasses to drive,” he says with a smile.
“Right, I almost forgot.” I sling my backpack around and get the glasses out of their case. It’s really so much more comfortable wearing them without also having hearing aids in. Both can be a lot of weight on my ears.
The stars shine bright through the tree branches. We cross the small footbridge in the forested area before the parking lot, making the transition back toward the real world. There’s a thrill to be leaving camp with Isaac, and only Isaac—like the whole night is full of possibilities. I breathe in the fresh, crisp air . . . and swat away a pesky mosquito.
“Or we could drive this.” Isaac points at the camp van.
“Never again.”
There are only seven or eight cars in the parking lot. I manually unlock the car doors and climb into the driver’s seat, quickly grabbing an old water bottle from the passenger side and tossing it in the back before Isaac gets in.
“Awesome that you have your own car.”
“Yeah, it’s only because my parents can’t drive me to school.” I’ve never considered this car awesome, especially since all of my classmates drive much nicer ones, but I guess it is for a city boy who gets to use public transportation. “I’d rather have a bus to take.”
“Yeah, I take the train.”
We both click in our seat belts, and I turn on the car. Isaac reaches a hand to the side door, feeling for vibrations. “No music?”
“What do you want?”
I usually prefer when the instruments don’t overpower the vocals, so that once I’ve looked up the lyrics, I can sing along to the majority of the song.
“I love h-e-a-v-y m-e-t-a-l.” He mimics putting on headphones and banging his head back and forth. I offer him the cord to play whatever he wants.
I try to set up my phone’s GPS, but the service is spotty. “Where do we go? I can’t remember.”
“I think this way. Go out and to the right.”
I glance over at Isaac as he directs me for the next few turns, and thankfully, twenty-five minutes later, we arrive at Super Mart.
I pull into the parking lot, conscientiously using my turn signal since there’s a police car in the corner. Its lights are off, so it’s probably empty, but I make the turn slowly just in case.
“How is it ten thirty already?” I turn off the car and shove my keys into my backpack.
“Let’s hurry and get back to camp,” Isaac signs.
Leaving Gray Wolf with just Isaac was fun, but now that we’re at this middle-of-nowhere Super Mart, I’m realizing how much I’d rather be sitting together around a warm campfire. Plus, the unspoken truth is that neither of us can afford to be caught after curfew again.
Outside the car, I’m struck by how quiet it is. Sure, I’ve been off camp grounds without my hearing aids already—at the bar and for snack runs—but those were with several people and felt like an extension of camp, where things are still loud and accessible.
But here we are, late at night in a store parking lot. Maybe I should put my hearing aids in, since they’re still in my backpack. Judging by the few cars around us, there are other shoppers in there. Going without the devices that I’m so used to wearing to function in society, I feel like I’m naked in public. Isaac must sense my hesitation. He grabs my hand as we walk inside.
Super Mart is such a depressing place, with its fluorescent lighting and warehouse scent. There are more people walking around here than the nearly empty parking lot suggested. We go left, walking along the registers to get to the food section on the opposite side of the store, dodging a few customers with carts who don’t make room for us.
We move swiftly. “I’ll find the cookies,” I sign.
Isaac nods, turning into the next aisle, on the hunt for his Fruit Roll-Ups.
Meanwhile, there are way too many kinds of Oreos for me to choose from. Five shelves of them, to be exact. I’m debating trying something other than the classic Double Stuf when I sense someone else standing near me. I turn and see a man moving suspiciously slowly. There’s no strolling around at this hour. It’s the time of day for quick in-and-out purchases. But instead, he walks up to me.
I snatch the bag of Oreos directly in front of me, without confirming what kind they are, and walk to the end of the aisle, but the man takes a few more steps and blocks me. “Do you ——？” he says.
I can’t tell what else he’s saying. Every polite societal instinct in me wants to lean forward, shake my head, apologize, and ask him to repeat. But I don’t owe this strange man any of my time. He takes another step, backing me into the shelf. I shake my head.