Reckless Abandon
That's it. Fifth period wasn't even over yet, and I'm skipping out on my first day of school.
When it came to playing hookie, I was an expert. I knew better than to barge out into the open parking lot, where all the eyes in the school's wide-windowed classrooms could plainly see us. But apparently Dajan didn't think twice about that.
I followed behind him, all the while looking over my shoulder as he strode defiantly out onto the asphalt. (Isn't this where I'd first seen Dajan that night at the carnival? Yes, it was the same parking lot, but it was barely recognizable without the carnival's canvas tent and makeshift mirror maze.) I hoped to God we wouldn't run into Desiree and Iana on their way out — and as if by some miracle, we didn't. They must have left while Dajan and I were having our heart-to-heart discussion in the hallway.
I didn't plan on tapping into my vault of bad-girl knowhow this early in my academic career at Sweet Amoris High School. In fact, I hadn't planned on tapping into it at all; I honestly thought I'd turned a new leaf by coming here. Maybe that was why there was white-hot adrenaline flying through my veins, my molars gnashing and grinding, my heart fluttering madly. I cut class more times than I could count back at the School for the Deaf...but I never wanted to be that girl at Sweet Amoris.
But no, my mind was made up. No going back now. Today was the worst first day of school in history. Nothing could possibly make it any worse than it had already been — at least, that was what I told myself to make it feel less like playing hookie and more like breaking free. We weren't delinquents; we were freedom fighters.
I snatched Dajan's laminated Sweet Amoris High School parking pass from the rear-view mirror and it off and flung it into the back so that no one would see it and suspect we were high schoolers playing hookie. It landed next to Iana's empty pink booster seat.
My malaise wore off the further Dajan drove us away from the school. A few intersections later, it just felt like he was driving me around on a sleepy summer Sunday. I didn't feel twenty pairs of eyes watching every move I made — only Dajan's. I didn't feel like I was inconveniencing anyone by making them interpret for me — Dajan already understood.
It felt...nice. It was almost like having Nathaniel back.
...Almost.
I'm so hungry, I whined, exaggerating my yearning with a pouty face.
I am, too, he agreed one-handed. He probably only had a sugary sports drink and some candy for lunch — not nearly enough to sustain a boy of his stature. Where do you want to go?
I don't know what's around here. You pick.
I fixated on his face to read his answer, but instead his lips wound into one of his teasing little smirks, his dark brows flexing expressively. No, you pick!
My stomach twisted and churned noticeably — from hunger, I was sure...not from the way he was smiling at me. Really, I don't care, I reiterated. I'm so hungry I'd eat anything.
We ended up at a drive-up fast food place not too far from the school. Dajan was able to read my finger-spelled order and relay it through the intercom box hanging from the menu placard. A college girl in short shorts and roller skates brought us our order, and Dajan paid her before I could offer to pay for my own.
I said I owed you lunch, he insisted.
I thought you meant you'd take me to lunch, not that you'd pay, I grumbled. It was a good thing he was being so generous...because now that I thought about it, I left my wallet and all my money in my backpack, which was back at school under my desk in Mr. Faraize's classroom.
I only had a couple bucks with me, anyway. It's not like I had anything worth stealing...except maybe my phone.
Crap, my phone!
… Oh well. No use worrying about it now. I washed down my apprehension with a cherry limeade and stole Dajan's fries by the handful.
Hey! He held the carton of fries away with his long arm — but not so far that I couldn't still reach it if I wanted to. Get your own!
No, thanks! I don't even want to think about how much fat is in these, I said, greedily stealing two more fries. If I eat too many, they end up right here.
Dajan's eyes followed my hands as I waved them over my thighs and hips — and lingered there momentarily. While he was distracted, I used to opportunity to grab another five or six fries and stuff them into my mouth, savoring the crisp saltiness.
Stop it! he whined. I don't share food!
I'm doing you a favor! I argued. Judging by the number of straws and grease-spotted paper bags on the floor of his car, he indulged in fast food far too often. If you eat too much of this crap, you'll end up dying of a heart attack. I pantomimed a heart attack by clutching my chest, my eyes rolling back into my head melodramatically.
He didn't find my performance very amusing. What?! He drew away from me like I'd just said something horrible and unforgivable — like a racial slur or a cutthroat insult. Why did you say that? Who told you?
I blinked, taken aback by his sudden mood swing. I signed to him softly, slowly, trying to calm him down before the situation got out of hand. Told me what, that fast food is bad for you? Everyone knows that.
No, I meant... Never mind. He waved the thought away with a limp, careless hand, his eyes glaring straight ahead through the windshield.
Oh, come on, I jeered, nudging his shoulder. I wanted playful, smiley Dajan back — not whiny, moody Dajan. I was on my own emotional roller coaster; I didn't want to have to ride his, too. I'm not being serious. You're seventeen years old. You won't die of a heart attack anytime soon. Besides, you work off all the calories playing basketball, don't you?
Yeah, he agreed, offering a somber half-smile. I guess you're right.
Even when our lunch was devoured and our cherry limeades were empty, he didn't start the car or back out of the parking space, and I didn't especially want him to. All that was waiting for me when I got home was a major parental lecture, and I wasn't in any hurry to experience one of those again. I would let Dajan keep me as long as he wanted.
He chewed on his red plastic straw, every so often glancing over at me — as though making sure I was still there. What are you doing after high school? he finally asked, reaching out for something to talk to me about. Do you want to go to college?
Sure I wanted to go to college...but I always assumed I would be going to Gallaudet, the deaf college in D.C. where my parents went. But there was no way I could go back there now...especially not if he was still there. Yeah, I said vaguely. I think I want to be a teacher, or maybe a social worker.
That made him smile. A social worker? Like my mom?
I smiled, too. Yeah. Like your mom. She's an amazing lady. Desiree Asad was amazing, albeit a little...intense. I had a feeling she wouldn't think I was especially amazing after the choice I made today. And what about you? Are you going to college?
Yeah, he said, but I don't know where yet.
Will you play basketball in college?
I have to play basketball in college, he confirmed, the brightness in his eyes dimming slightly. The only way I can go is with a basketball...grant?
Scholarship? I showed him the sign slowly, then explained what it meant. Where they give you money for tuition if you play?
Yeah. A scholarship. He mimicked the sign perfectly. He really was getting better. I felt like just talking to him like this was more effective than a 'tutoring' session. This way, it was less forced.
...Where to now? he asked after a few sweet moments of stillness.
Home, I said reluctantly. There was nowhere else to go, or else I would have asked him to take me there instead.
Home, he repeated, equally disappointed.
Mom was livid.
She held onto the edge of the kitchen counter with one hand and gripped her cane with the other, her knuckles white. She had to sit perched on a barstool to free up her hands to talk to me.
Get over here, she ordered. Now.
It was directed solely at me, but Dajan came in with me, bringing up the rear — as though waiting to catch me if I should fall.
Where have you been?! Mom demanded, her arms flailing wildly. I've sent you a thousand text messages!
My phone is at school, I said succinctly.
Why are you not at school, then, Jo? Her back always bothered her when she was stressed. I could see the pain on her face, and I felt ashamed of myself for causing it. What happened? Desiree called and told me you refused her interpretation services and dismissed her for the day - and then you just disappeared! Do you realize that if you had been gone much longer, your father and I would have had to call the police?!
I-I can explain...
Dad had to put in his two cents before he allowed me to continue. Didn't I tell you this would happen? He wasn't asking a question; he just wanted someone to tell him he'd been right all along. A hearing school is no place for you, Jo. His smile was meant to reassure me, but it came off as callous smugness, which made me even more upset. For the second time that day, I had to fight back the urge to cry.
Mom rolled her shoulders back in an attempt to lessen the pain, but I could tell it was no use. Your father and I gave up our jobs — our careers — to move here with you, Jo. To give you a chance at a normal life. And this is how you repay us? By skipping school on your first day? I don't know what to do with you. It's like I don't even know you anymore.
Mom... Her words hurt, but they hurt so much because they were true.
Dajan came up beside me. He'd been watching Mom's lecture from behind me. It's my fault, he signed to her contritely.
What are you doing? I snapped at him — but his eyes were locked with Mom's.
Dajan, this has nothing to do with you, Mom said aloud, shaking her head dismissively. Go home.
Dajan pressed on, signing so that I could follow what he said. It's my fault, he repeated. She left because of me. I was the one who started a fight, not her.
A fight? Is that supposed to make me feel better?
Another boy in our class said something about me — something that made D.J. mad, I explained, hoping Mom wouldn't ask what it was the boy said.
That's no excuse, Mom held firm. You're not going back there, Jo.
Mom, please! If I go back tomorrow, it'll be different! I should have a real interpreter by then!
It's not her fault her interpreter didn't come today, Dajan reminded Mom straight-faced. He signed rather than talking to her out loud, even though they were both hearing. He wanted me to know what was being said. It was quite the gentlemanly gesture; it meant more to me than his almost beating up Armin Underwood on my behalf.
Mom thought and thought, balancing on her barstool and mashing her lips together. One more chance, she decided, and that's all you get. Now go home, Dajan. Your mother must be worried sick! And you, Johanna, up to your room — and stay there.
I felt a relieved, repentant tear tickle my cheek. Thank you, Mom, I offered meekly.
Thank you, Mrs. Q., said Dajan, mirroring my sign.
What did he have to thank my mother for? Who does Dajan think he is? First he almost gets in a fight because of me, then he buys me lunch, and now he's defending my honor against my own mother?
Honestly! It's like he thinks he's my boyfriend or something!
I had to stop and take a deep breath, blinking slowly.
Mom waved us both away tiredly as Dad encircled his arm around her shoulder for support.
You'd better go, D.J., Dad urged, smiling microscopically.
Dajan and I took the out and left the kitchen, backtracking through the hallway to the foyer.
See you tomorrow? Dajan asked as I opened the front door for him. He held himself in a weird position, leaning forward slightly, and hunched down over me as if waiting for a hug. Or a kiss.
See you tomorrow, I confirmed anticlimactically, shutting the door over his smiling face, thanking him with a red-faced smile of my own.
Oh, no. You haven't won yet, Dajan Asad.
Up the carpeted stairs I trudged, one by one, until I was greeted by the welcome sight of my room. I was so worn out from all the excitement, I collapsed on my bed, still fully clothed, and fell into a fretful sleep.
It occurred to me only when I woke up several hours later, the sun long gone and the sky outside my bedroom window black and cloudless, that I never signed onto IM to talk to Nathaniel.
...Even though he said he would wait for me.
A/N: This update comes so ridiculously late because I'm getting over the worst case of writer's block ever. Thank you so much to exactlyamanda and erinyoukai for helping me work through it. I love you girls - and all of you other readers and reviewers, too! Thank you so much for supporting me and letting me do what I love.
I'm OVERFLOWING with excitement right now, because in a few hours I'm leaving on a spontaneous spring break road trip to visit my best friend in the universe and all other alternate universes. She's the reason I write, and I can't even begin to describe how much it means to me that I'm going to see her!
Thank you again, and I promise to update again WAY sooner than last time!
xox binaryguppy