Mackenzie comes and gently pulls me back to my car, where my eyes finally run out of tears. I kick my feet against the glove compartment. “Everyone hates me. And I should be there for Isaac. But he probably hates me, too.”
“Lilah, no one hates you. I promise. They’re concerned. You’re very upset.” She backs the car out and drives away. “Plus, they need us back at camp. That’s an important job they’re trusting us with, you know.”
I don’t like Mackenzie driving my car and coming up with pathetic things to say to try to make me feel better. I don’t like Ethan treating me like a burden. I don’t like the way Natasha and Jaden looked at me. I don’t like the way I keep seeing Isaac’s face as he got into that police car.
“Your idea is the worst,” I say, gritting my teeth.
“My idea?”
“To pretend to be deaf. You don’t understand.” I shake my head.
“I don’t.” Mackenzie says this loud and clear.
“You don’t.” I’m shouting now. “You don’t and it makes me so mad. That everyone assumes they know, but they don’t. And they make it so difficult. Sometimes they make it all so difficult.” Then I curse, loudly.
We sit in silence the rest of the way back to camp, and for a few more minutes in the car once we arrive.
“Lilah, I can’t imagine how awful tonight was,” Mackenzie says and signs one-handed. “You’re right. And I hope you’ll forgive me. I didn’t know as much as I thought about Deaf culture, and I might have used that to my advantage. That was wrong. But I still want to learn and be better.”
Part of me wants to pick a fight. How dare she not give in to my argumentative frustration. “You don’t understand. This place is so important to me. Before coming back this summer, I didn’t realize just how important it was. And now, what if he never gets to come back? What if I never do? What if none of us do?” I struggle to speak through hiccups from my shallow breathing. “But no matter how hard I try, I feel like I can’t do anything right. And after tonight . . .”
“Lilah, what exactly are you talking about?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I cover my face with my hands and sob gently. This summer was supposed to be the best one yet, not the worst. And at this rate, I won’t get the chance to have a better one next year.
“Lilah,” Mackenzie starts to say, and I can sense the uncertainty in her voice. She signs as she speaks, “Isaac is going to be okay. He has to be.”
I don’t respond, so we sit in silence for a while. “Let’s get back to the cabins,” Mackenzie suggests.
“I want to wait here for them to get back.”
“It’s almost midnight,” Mackenzie says and signs. “They might be a while, and you need to get some sleep.”
“I won’t be able to sleep. I need to wait for Isaac.”
“You can try. Come on.”
I drag my feet, following her on the path until we reach Simone and Bobby at the campfire.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, apologizing to everyone as if it’ll take away what happened tonight. I’m not sure if I’ll have to explain everything, but the look on Simone’s face tells me she already knows. News travels fast.
Simone throws her arms around me and hugs me tight. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Of course I’m okay. But Isaac . . .” There’s a catch in my voice at the mention of his name.
Simone squeezes me tighter. “I’ve got you.”
“They took him, even though it was my fault.” I sob into Simone’s shoulder. “It was all my fault. I should’ve asked her to repeat. I shouldn’t have said no when I didn’t know. They should have taken me.”
Chapter Twenty-four
When I wake up the next morning, I’m alone in the cabin. I immediately clutch my phone, but it’s dead. I crawl over to the wall and plug it in, waiting in agony for it to power on. By my watch, it’s nine thirty. Did they just let me stay here? Am I supposed to go join everyone else now?
There are no texts from Isaac when I turn on my phone. There’s only one text from Ethan asking me to let him know when I’m up. I guess this means that no one has called my parents yet. I get back to Ethan before sending another text to Isaac.
Lilah: I hope you’re okay. Please Isaac let me know that you’re okay.
A few minutes later, I get a text, but not the one I want. Instead, it’s Ethan responding to the reply I’d just sent.
Ethan: I’ll be right there
Lilah: Where’s Isaac
Ethan: One sec I’ll be right there. Don’t worry, Isaac’s home.
That leaves me with more questions than answers. Isaac’s home? Does that mean he’s okay? Why hasn’t he responded to my texts yet?
I grab my backpack to find my hearing aids. Except instead of putting them back in, I grab my car keys.
Last night might never have happened if I’d been wearing my hearing aids—if I had abided by the wishes of the hearing world. They want us to adapt to them so that they don’t have to adapt to us. I wanted to try to embrace my hearing loss, but last night I saw why I shouldn’t.
Ethan’s on his way to find me. I might as well pack my things and go home before he gets here.
I scramble to my feet and start going through my stuff. Why did I bring so many things? Forget it. I don’t need this sleeping bag. Or these old camp clothes. I shove the essentials into my backpack and book it. My parents can get the rest of my belongings when they come to pick up Max. My parents, ugh. I’m going to have to explain this all over again, aren’t I? I can already see the disapproval on my mom’s face when she asks if I was wearing my hearing aids last night.
I’m headed to the parking lot when Ethan pulls up in the golf cart.
“Where ——？” he asks, confused.
I turn around, not catching the rest of his signing. “I’m going home. Bye.”
“Lilah, get in, please.”
“No, thanks.”
Still puzzled, he slows to a roll beside me, at my pace. “Where’s the rest of your stuff?”
“Don’t need it. Bye,” I repeat.
He hits the brake. “Lilah, get back here. I need to talk to you.” I keep walking until he shouts, “You’re not leaving!” But when I turn around, his voice is soft and he moves his hands calmly. “Unless you want to, that is . . .”
I pause, then walk back to the golf cart, staring at the ground. “Really?”
He lifts a plate covered with a napkin that’s on the seat beside him and nods for me to climb in. “Here’s some breakfast.”
There are two plain slices of toast. “Uh, thanks?”
He reaches into the backpack at his feet and pulls out a jar of Nutella.
“Oh,” I say. “That’s better.” I tear the bread in pieces and dip it into the chocolate-hazelnut spread.
“I thought so.”
Ethan drives to the cabins while I eat in silence. Once I finish, I take my hearing aids out of my backpack and shove them into my ears, only to be met with plugged silence. I don’t have any spare batteries with me, either. “Ugh. Dead.”