content warning// suicide mention, prescription drug abuse mention

         I try not to think about Cannon on Tuesday, try not to look for him in the hallways, but I can't help myself. I find out from Serena that he skipped. I wonder if he had a counseling appointment. I overread (because I can't overhear) in class that he was actually trying to shoot himself on New Year's Eve, but his mom pushed the gun away from him and the bullet ricocheted and hit her instead. Later in the week, I overread in the cafeteria that there was no gun at all, but that she'd OD'd on prescription drugs that he'd bought from someone. I don't see him again. I forget about our strange encounter.

It's two weeks later, on a Monday, when the assistant principal knocks on the door of Mr. Knox's classroom and requests to speak with Merinda. My initial thought is that I've been caught; someone found out I can read lips and told one of the faculty members who took it to the assistant principal who decided that the school could save money if they didn't have to pay her salary. If they take her away from me, I'll protest; I swear, I will! I won't do any work in any of my classes; I'll pretend I don't know what the teachers are saying!

She doesn't come back for the rest of the period, and I've decided that when the bell rings, I'll march myself right on down to the assistant principal's office instead of going to gym. But I don't have to — when I walk into the hallway, she's there, waiting for me.

Am I in trouble?

No.

What's going on?

Go ahead to gym. I'll see you in physics.

Why did he call you out of class?

It has nothing to do with you. This is what she signs, but her stiff expression says the opposite. I'll see you in an hour.

I get hit with a volleyball not once, not twice, but three times over the course of third period. Not for lack of hearing, but for lack of paying attention. My mind can't stop thinking of all the horrible reasons Merinda might get called out of class. Was it a family emergency? I've known Merinda basically all my life. I know she has a husband and three dogs but no kids. Her husband's a surgeon. He never calls the school office to get in touch with her. He usually just texts her cell. If something happened to him, would the hospital have called the school? Maybe, if they'd tried Merinda's cell and she didn't pick up. But whatever student worker was in the office second period would've just buzzed Knox's room over the intercom and called Merinda to the office. They wouldn't have sent the assistant principal. No, this has to be something school related. I don't believe her when she says it's not about me. But I do believe that I'm not in trouble, at least nothing serious. She would've told me... Wouldn't she have told me?

FOOMP. Fourth time. Right in the noggin.

Dude, what the hell? Are you trying to make us lose on purpose?

I shake my head no to Serena. I toss her the ball. I'm gonna go get a sip of water.

I'd thought that maybe a sip of water would help clear my head. It doesn't. My team loses twice.

I all but run, hop, and skip to physics. I walk right in and Merinda pushes me right back out. What is going on? I demand as we back up and out of the doorway.

There's going to be a few changes.

Like what?

I asked Mr. Scanlan if I could tell you myself.

I can feel all patience evaporate from my body with the leftover sweat from gym. Tell me what, Merinda?

Merinda visibly rights herself, straightens out her shoulders. A senior boy's mother passed away over winter break.

I know. My heart immediately feels heavy. I remember the absence on his features that day behind the cafeteria. It's awful, but what does it have to do with me?

He's mute.

He lost his voice?

No. Merinda shakes her head. He's mute. He hasn't spoken since. He refuses to participate in class. He hasn't turned in any assignments. It's been two weeks. They don't want to fail him.

Maybe that's what he needs, I suggest. He saw his mother die. I'd need the rest of the year off, too.

She looks taken aback. How do you know that?

My face gets warm. I heard a rumor.

I wouldn't go around spreading rumors like that. She looks like she means it.

I didn't. Serena told me. Who would I tell, anyway? I don't even speak. Something Mr. Kane and I have in common, apparently.

Mr. Lancaster and Mr. Scanlan met with his guardian. They've decided on a solution. One that his guardian thinks he will oblige to.

I lift my hands to ask again what this has to do with me. But she tells me.

They think if he can learn ASL, he can start communicating with his teachers and hopefully be able to stay in school.

No.

He will study it outside of class.

No.

They thought I might could help speed up the process. If he can see what I'm signing as the teacher says it.

No! This time I sign my thoughts. You're not leaving me! I want to add that I need her more, but I don't. I have both of my parents.

They haven't asked me to.

Then what...

Mr. Lancaster has approved his immediate transfer into all of your classes.

"Excuse me?!" I squeak it and I sign it. I don't care who looks.

Merinda guides me further into the hallway, farther from the door.

That doesn't even make any sense! He's a whole year ahead of me!

You're already in mixed classes with both juniors and seniors. You're on the advanced curriculum. You have been since the ninth grade. You know this.

Surely I'm taking some classes he's already taken!

He's on the basic curriculum.

There's no way he's taking Latin.

He'll go to gym that period.

What about English? I try to bargain, but I've never learned how. There's four Englishes. I'm in English three. He needs to be in English four. He's already taken the first half.

You're right. I don't think they've come up with a solution for that one yet. He's seeing someone... She stops. Sighs. I shouldn't be telling you this. He's seeing someone. Like a therapist. They've sent a note to the school. He's to be officially treated like a special needs student. Given the same accommodations the school gives—

Me. I point to myself at the same time she points to me.

So he's just going to sit in all of my classes? Silently? As if I'd notice the difference.

Yes. You won't even know he's there.

I know that this is the right thing to do. Guess I just don't want to share. Will he eventually return to his own classes?

If he decides to start speaking before we get too far in to the semester for his assignments to be transferable, yes.

And if he never speaks again? I realize how bitchy this sounds. But the principal must've at least entertained this scenario, even if he's not planning for it.

We're going to take it one day at a time.

Seems like you already have everything planned out. Without my metaphorical voice in the matter.

Like I told you before, it has nothing to do with you. Nothing about your day is changing. Have some compassion.

She's right. You're right. My personal, outdated qualms with Cannon Kane are just that — personal and outdated.

The bell has already rung, I'm assuming, because the hall is empty by the time we're done and we walk into a full classroom. Merinda probably tells Ms. Mink that we're sorry. I don't know. All I know is that Cannon Kane is in my seat. I stop cold in my tracks, all eyes on me except Cannon's. I shoot a look over at Merinda. The class is full. There's not an extra seat. Merinda says something to Ms. Mink. Ms. Mink says something to Cannon. Cannon doesn't look up. Cannon says nothing. For a moment I think he's going to continue to ignore us all and I'm going to have to sit on the floor. Finally he rises and walks around the back of the classroom. Ms. Mink is pointing. Cannon pulls a stool out from underneath one of the lab tables. He sits. I sit. I cannot see Cannon from where I am. Merinda, too, acts like he is not there. She signs the lecture to me like she normally would. I can't forget that he is behind me, but I do not dare turn to look.

When Merinda signals to me that the bell has rung, I rush to the cafeteria, eager to be rid of her and feeling guilty for feeling eager.

I feel like... my privacy has been invaded. I know it's selfish. I know my reasons are childish. I know he needs help. But he doesn't need my Merinda. My class schedule. My desk.

He can hear. I can't.

I wait until after lunch to tell Serena. Our friends chat amongst each other in the courtyard outside the science building at recess. I pull her aside.

Lancaster switched Cannon's schedule around because he won't talk. They think he should learn ASL. He's in all of my classes.

Her eyes get huge. What?

I play into her surprise, my hands more animated now than before. Every single one!

Holy crap. What are you going to do?

There's nothing I can do. I just have to let him sit next to me and stare off into space.

This is so weird. They just switched his schedule like that?

I knew Serena would validate my feelings. I'm so thankful for her. He doesn't even have a desk in physics. There's no extra chairs.

You think he's going to actually learn sign language? She looks doubtful.

No idea. He still isn't doing anything in class. It's been two weeks.

If his mom hadn't have gone crazy and turned a knife on him, they'd have expelled him already.

What?!

Yeah, I heard it was self-defense.

God.

I know.

Her head whips back and forth like a puppet on a string. Does he have this lunch?

I don't know. He went to gym. I don't know what lunch he had before.

She doesn't see him. Neither do I.

Probably hiding somewhere smoking.

What?

Nothing.

We stop at my locker for my Latin book. He will be in gym. I can pretend I am alone.

Merinda watches me closely through all of Latin. I know she wants to silently apologize. My eyes stay on her hands. I won't let her. I feel guilty that I won't let her.

Merinda and Cannon both beat me to history. Merinda stands at her spot next to Coach Warren's desk. Cannon sits in the desk beside mine. The lecture begins. He does not take out his book, nor does he take out a pen and paper. He sits and looks out the window. I suppose my teachers have been informed of the situation and have been asked not to call on him or ask him why he isn't participating. I don't know.

Art appreciation is much of the same. We have a quiz today. Mrs. Foster doesn't hand Cannon a quiz. I attempt to identify various rennaissance paintings. They all look the same to me. Merinda reads on her phone while we take our quizzes. Cannon does nothing.

When the final bell rings, I bend over to pack my book bag. A pair of feet walk swiftly past me. When I stand, a folded piece of paper is atop my desk. I look around for the culprit, but no one is watching me. I take the scrap in my hands and open it up.

It says:

I'm sorry.