Chapter 35

Thanksgiving Break

Classes let out at the usual hour on Wednesday, though everyone thought the teachers would let us leave early for the four-day holiday weekend. After gathering my things, I raced from my room, down the hall toward the stairs, anxious to see Mom and Dad.

Outside, brutally cold air struck me. Shrugging my shoulders and tightening my muscles did little to make me warm.

We were still a month away from winter. But the temperatures had stayed in the forties and fifties since the end of October.

A few times when it rained, it looked like some snow was mixed in there. None of the snow—if you could call it that—stayed on the ground. I watched my breath puff out in clouds as I stood searching the area for my family. Parents were almost running across campus, trying to find their kids. Everyone rushed to and from the buildings.

The campus was always covered with people walking around or out playing—especially around meal times. And Fridays always made things a little more hectic. But this Wednesday was unreal. Forget hectic. People looked frantic. Must’ve been everyone was excited about getting home and enjoying the holiday break.

I set down the suitcase. My fingers felt numb, so I pulled on my gloves while I waited.

Samantha had gone home at lunchtime after introducing Kyle and me to her father. Her parents were divorced. She had not mentioned that before this week. She explained that her mother and father split the holidays up. This year Thanksgiving was with her father. She would spend Christmas with her mother.

I thought about this while waiting for my parents. On top of being deaf, Samantha had to deal with a divorce. Patrick’s parents were divorced, and he hated it. It confused him. He never knew what weekend was with whom. Making plans was always a nightmare. Like Samantha, though, Patrick did not talk much about it.

I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if my parents ever decided to separate. Just the thought of it was awful. What if they asked me to choose who I wanted to live with? I would hate to have to answer that one.

Standing by the tall maple tree between my dorm and the parking lot, I saw Eiji slip that worn army duffel bag off his shoulder. He blew into his cupped hands and rubbed his palms together. He wore only a thin fall coat that didn’t look like it could do much to battle the chilling wind that whipped around us.

It made no sense at all, but I decided to walk over to Eiji. Excited about Thanksgiving? I signed. We hadn’t talked since he locked me in the broom closet, and except for that short exchange about me not telling on him, he hadn’t been in my face since then, either.

Get lost, he signed.

At least I tried, I thought, ready to walk toward the parking lot. Instead, I took one more shot at it. What is your problem?

You don’t give up, do you? You haven’t figured it out?

No.

I can’t make this any simpler, Eiji signed, looking past me, distractedly. My problem is you.

I could tell I wasn’t the center of Eiji’s attention. I turned to see the competition. This time the man in the expensive suit wore a long, dark trench coat and leather driving gloves. Again, he was talking animatedly, but this time with a Bluetooth in his ear, one finger pointed to it as if it were an antenna for better reception. Eiji’s father.

Stepping away, I watched as Eiji asked his father to carry the duffel bag. He explained that his hands were cold. The father, never breaking away from the phone conversation, stood stiff with one hand planted on his hip, then pointed at the bag and pointed at Eiji. It wasn’t sign language, but the jerky and angry hand motions made his point. Eiji picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder.

When Eiji looked over at me, he didn’t resemble the monster, the bully I’d come to know. The anger was gone, replaced only by a desperate look of silent shame… or was it of nothingness?