Misfits

Ryleigh

Gavin and I walk through the screen door of our house, dropping off our backpacks and walking to the kitchen. Dad's home early, and mom has baked heavenly smelling cookies. Something was wrong. I grab my younger brother's hand to stop him from taking a cookie, and quickly sign "what's this?" at my mother. Even if she doesn't catch the signs, I can tell she knew what I have asked by the expression on my face. Gavin is looking between the two of us, clearly wondering why he can't eat one of mom's signature baked goods. "Ryleigh, Gavin, take a seat," she signs, gesturing at the bar stools and platter of cookies. Gavin dives in, keeping his eyes up in case we continued in just ASL. My dad loosens his tie, then stands up to move to where my mother is standing on the opposite side of the island. "My company is expanding. We've received a large investment, and I have been promoted," he signs. Gavin and I share a glance; this is happy news- why aren't they happy? "That's great, Dad!" I tell him, signaling him to tell us what's really going on. "Yes, thank you Ryleigh, I'm grateful for the promotion. It's not all good news though. They are expanding the company," we both nod as he pauses to take a deep breath, "and making a new headquarters in Nevada. We have to move." The cookie falls from Gavin's lips and words that I can't hear myself say catch in my throat. Moving? Moving. Moving. Moving away from my friends and my teachers and my school and the deaf community in Concord, NH. Would Nevada even have a deaf school? Would they have hearing-impaired specifications? I could see my parents mouths and hands moving as they tried to calm my brother and me down, but I was too shell-shocked to read mouths or watch hands. Moving. Moving. Moving. Moving to freaking Nevada.

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I have lived in Nevada for five years now. My first year I was an anomaly; the only deaf person under the age of eighty to reside in Oakfield. Once that wore off I became an outcast. Harry, my translator, is my best friend. I sit with him during lunch and tell him about my day. He's the only one who listens. Or maybe it's just that he's the only one who can understand me. I've told Harry all my secrets that I don't want to discuss with Gavin or my parents, and we even have inside jokes. I've met his wife, and sometimes they come to our house for dinner. He's like my uncle.

Harry is wonderful, but I've always wanted a friend my age. It's hard to make friends when they have to put extra work in though. No one wants to take the time to learn ASL. I video chat with my friends from Concord sometimes, and we visit New Hampshire every Christmas to see my extended family, but it's not the same. They have all grown up separate from me; we don't share the connection we used to.

To put it simply, I may not be bullied, but I'm so, so lonely.

Being lonely has forced me to become an extreme introvert, and an extreme fangirl. I sit alone in my room watching close-captioned Netflix shows, reading books in which I can pretend I'm the main character, and then reading the fanfiction for it when I'm done. I especially enjoy romance-adventure books. I like pretending that I have some special power that makes me the only one able to save the world, as well as falling in love with my trusty partner along the way. Then I picture myself and the love interest sharing our first kiss, going on dates... tricking myself into believing that could ever happen to someone like me.

I know it couldn't, and I know it won't, but Jordan has given me hope that it is distant possibility. And even if we don't fall in love and share an epic kiss from the books, at least he could be my first friend.

Being friends with Jordan is the best thing that has happened to me since we moved to Nevada. Not only to I have a place to eat during lunch, but I also have my first friend that's my age. A friend that is willing to work hard and learn ASL for me. A friend that gives me the opportunity for more friends. A friend that doesn't make me lonely.