5
I walk into my room, sitting at my desk and laying out my homework. After dinner, I just want to read for the rest of the night, and I'd rather not be worried about it. My watch reads 2:45. Dinner's at 6:00, I'll be finished before then. I remove my hearing aids and place them on the charger.
While doing my math homework, I can't help but realize how focused I am. Not to gloat, but I have the highest grades in school and I've been on the honor roll twice. I often think that sound can be a distraction from what's important, and at one point in my life, my dad tried to convince me I was smart because I was deaf. He said that being deaf kept me from hearing the wrong things that could get me in trouble, and for that, I'm grateful.
Sound: it's a blessing and a curse.
I finish math and take out AP English - my favorite class. I enjoy anything that has to do with reading and writing. Next would have to be physics - it's literally a matter of finding equations and plugging them in. It's a helluva lot better than trigonometry, useful too. I honestly don't know how I manage to maintain a 93%, but it's my lowest grade. It really pisses me off.
4:30. Damn, time flies. What's next? AP US History. The class is adequate. My second lowest grade at 95%. I've never liked history before, but the class changes my outlook on it completely. The only reason I took the class was because Amber coaxed me. Then again, she loves it.
5:00. Okay, that's done. Finally, Sociology. The class is super chill, I'm pretty sure everyone has 100%. Literally all you have to do is participate and complete the homework. Three times out of the week, we have free time to do whatever we want. Not to say I don't pay attention, I do. The class, while super chill, is interesting for a number of reasons. Finished.
As soon as I set my pencil down, I feel a tapping on my shoulder. I turn around, it's my father.
"Sorry," he signs and says. "I was calling you, didn't realize you were busy."
"It's okay," I sign back. "I just finished my homework."
"Scholar. Want to help your mother set the table?"
I smile and nod, heading downstairs to my mother in the kitchen.
"Can you lay out the plates?" She signs when she notices my aids aren't in.
I gladly take them from her, placing four on the table. Then, I notice an expression on her face of surprise as she looks toward the door. Peering in that direction, I watch my father go to open it. He does, hugging the man as he enters. My father takes his coat as my mom does the same. The man looks at me.
"Is this Rebecca?" He says.
My dad nods. "Yep."
The man raises a hand. "Hi, Ruby. My name is Brendon."
His fingering is a little sloppy, but I give him props for trying to use real sign language. I smile and wave.
"Can she hear?" Brendon says.
"She was born almost completely deaf," my mom says. "Her hearing aids enhance her range of oral ability and give her confidence to speak."
"Where are your aids?" Signs my father.
"Upstairs charging," I sign back. "I'll get them."
I head upstairs and grab my aids off the charger, inserting them behind my ears and switching to position 2. Then, a thought comes into my mind. I switch to position 4 and place my face on the floor. I can hear the footsteps of everyone migrating to the kitchen.
"Thank you so much for inviting me, Mr and Mrs. Armstrong." Brendon's voice is somewhat deep, but not intimidating.
"Please," my dad says. "We're neighbors, call us Adrienne and Billie."
Brendon laughs.
"I'd love to get started with dinner," says my mom sarcastically. "If Ruby ever comes down."
"RUBY!" Yells my father.
I exclaim and a ringing sensation fills my ears. Quickly, I flip to position 2, causing the ringing to cease. So much for eavesdropping.
Walking into the kitchen, I take the empty seat next to my father, across from Brendon. My mom placed plates in front of us, then sits beside my father.
"This looks great!" Brendon says, ready to dig in.
Looking up close, I can tell he has a thin, yet muscular build. His eyes are a dark chocolate shade, and is kind of a baby face, though his cheekbones are prominent. His jawline is pretty sharp.
"Where are you from, Brendon?" My dad asks.
"Las Vegas." He said excitedly. "That's where I was born. Since then, I've lived in Florida, Pennsylvania, and now, upstate New York."
"You're like a nomad." I say aloud.
"A What?"
"A nomad. You know, someone who settles in a lot of places."
"Where'd you learn about that?"
"AP US History."
"I'll assume you have good grades to be in a class like that."
I shrug. "They're adequate in my opinion."
"Adequate?" My dad intervenes. "Why don't you tell him about your practice SAT scores? This kid got a 1400 on the first try."
Brendon is taken aback. "1400? With no prep?"
"None, whatsoever."
I roll my eyes. "I didn't get a 1400... I got a 1450."
"Still," Brendon laughs. "Didn't know I was moving next door to a prodigy. Maybe you can do my taxes sometime."
We all laugh. Brendon's funny.
"What do you do?" My mom asks. "As far as work, I mean."
"I work as a website designer and manager for major companies. In this case, I ghost write for the New York Times webpage."
"That's amazing!"
"Did you have to take computer science in college?" I ask.
"Ohhh yeah! And Journalism school. So many sleepless nights."
Brendon seemed excited to be talking about it though. He just seems like someone who enjoys the company of others.
"Where'd you go to college?"
He smirked. "I'm proud to say I have a master's degree in Journalism from Harvard University."
My parents awe in amazement.
"Guess I'm not the only genius on this block."
Brendon laughs. "Yeah, but trust me, I wasn't getting 1450's on my practice SAT's."
I smile.
I'm reading Brave New World by Aldous Huxley on my bed when my father comes in. He sits on an open space and I motion to my aids on the desk.
"How did you like Brendon?" he signs and says.
"He's very funny." I signed with a smile. "He's educated and enjoys being around others. Brendon's cool."
"Good to know."
"It's sad that he lives all alone. An outgoing person like him shouldn't live alone."
My dad nods in agreement. "Maybe he'll find someone while he lives here."
"I hope so."
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