I approach Cannon in homeroom before the tardy bell on Monday morning. "Did you get everything done?"

He doesn't make eye contact with me. "Turned it all in to Lancaster this morning."

"Awesome." I smile at him.

He glances at me briefly, and then back down. "Thanks again." He doesn't smile.

Tell Cannon when he wakes up that he's welcome, I sign and take my seat.

When Merinda comes in, she gives me a questioning look and then a thumbs up quickly followed by a thumbs down. She's asking if Cannon made his deadline. I give her a thumbs up. She is the one who matches my smile. Excellent! she signs. Good work.

Cannon doesn't address me for the rest of the day. I guess he's just tired from working all weekend — I don't blame him.

Except for the fact that he doesn't address me the following day. Nor the following. Nor the following. I text him and he doesn't text back. I try to make eye contact with him in class but he avoids it. I try to catch him between classes, but he takes alternate routes. And now I totally blame him.

Maybe something happened with the trial, Serena suggests at The Mudhouse on Thursday. I'm having my usual, and she's having just a plain chai tea since she's "taking a dairy-free week".

I set my cup down to answer her. Trial?

Yeah, I heard the case is going to trial.

He didn't tell me anything about that. We've not once discussed what happened over winter break, but I kind of thought that he'd come to feel comfortable enough around me to at least tell me if something of certain magnitude happened. Maybe it's just a rumor.

Serena gives me a careful look. Maybe he's shutting down again.

This idea makes me a little bit selfishly angry. Everything I did to get him to soften up the first time... I don't know if I have it in me to do it all over again. I've tried texting him. I stare at him in class but he never looks over. I don't know what else to do.

What did you do the first time? She asks, knowing damn full well that I marched myself right up to his front door last time.

I wrote him a note and I stood there while he read it.

She stares at me like I've answered my own question and I should know it. I remember back when she'd first suggested that I write Cannon a note. That it could be our "thing".

Is it really my responsibility, though? I mean, I did what needed to be done. I got him back to school. He turned all his work in. He's paying attention in class. My work here is done.

She furrows her dirty blonde brows. She is not pleased. You deserve more than that.

Not really. I only helped him so he wouldn't take Merinda from me.

That's a lie.

Am I exerting a lying energy?

You helped him because you're a good person and you couldn't stand seeing someone hurt when you knew you could help. Doing good fulfills you. He helped you, too, in some way, and you know it.

God, I'm giving her the most disgusted face. All of what she said was awful, and I fully hate it. Actually, I did it because you told me to.

She encircles a halo above her head with her pointer finger and then places both palms together, elbows up and out, to make praying hands.

🌼🌼🌼

         I think about what Serena said overnight. I think about it until I'm angry. Red-in-the-face angry. Because, you know what? I may be deaf, but I'm a person. A person with feelings. And I helped him out! A lot! And for him to turn around and drop me with zero explanation? The absolute madman. The absolute nerve!

I type out a long, angry text message. I delete some pieces to make it sound a little more pleasant. But I can't bring myself to press send. Not because I don't want to hurt his feelings, but because I don't think I'll be able to sleep when he ignores me, sitting up waiting for an answer.

So, I guess I'll confront him.

🌼🌼🌼

         Friday morning, I don't tell Serena of my plan just in case it backfires. I don't greet Cannon when I come in to homeroom. I don't look at him; I don't try to get his attention as I have been. I watch the clock diligently throughout the period. I stand before the second hand hits the twelve on the minute that I know the bell will ring. I march myself the few steps to his desk and stand before him. He's putting his backpack on. I pull my phone out and tap it, my expression firm. He pulls his phone out, his expression nothing. With his phone in his hand, I press send on the text message I'd had typed up and ready to go.

Why have you been ignoring me all week? I know we're not like buddies and you don't really owe me anything, but I think it's really shitty of you to use me after I stuck my neck out for you and then as soon as the work is done it's like I don't exist again. I deserve more than that. If you don't wanna work together any more that's fine, just tell me. But we're in literally every single class together and if you think ghosting me is gonna work, well it's not.

I watch as Cannon reads my message, and I swear to you the tips of his ears get a little redness to them. I watch his fingers as he types up a response. This better be good.

Can we go outside please

With a performative roll of my eyes, I follow Cannon out into the courtyard. We stop in an area with low congestion. He pulls his phone back out. I'd never pocketed mine. I dare a teacher to pull me aside right now.

Look it's not like that. I'm not ghosting you because I got what I needed and now I don't need you any more.

That's... not a proper explanation. Then tell me. What is it like? I respond.

I'm not a good person to be hanging around with. I've got a bad rep. You're a really good student.

Now I feel my ears reddening, but not out of shame. I'm ruining your reputation? Are you kidding?

No the opposite. I almost got you expelled with the weed thing. If we keep having our phones out in class you're gonna get in trouble again too.
I'm sorry for ignoring you, that wasn't cool.
I really appreciate everything you've done for me. I just think it's better not to make this into more than what it is. I've been watching youtube videos on sign language. If I ever need to ask a question in class I can.

I'm... livid. How dare he! All of a sudden he's worried about how it looks?! Or what people might think?! He sure as hell wasn't worried about "affecting my reputation" last week when he needed my help. He can make whatever excuse he wants, but it is what it is. He needed me before, and now he doesn't.

Bullshit Cannon. I decide what's good for me. Not you.

I just think it's for the best.
We need to get to class. I'm sorry.

He walks away from me without offering so much as an apologetic glance.

It hurts more than I thought it would.