Meaningful Silence

Chapter Eight

"Hey, Emily?" I knocked on her door and waited for a response. And by "response", I mean a knock back. When I first started coming over, she explained to me that when her door was closed one knock back meant "come in" and two knocks meant "wait". If she locked the door and didn't respond, then obviously that meant "go away".

I knocked again, "Uh, Emily?" 

There wasn't a response, so I checked the doorknob and found it unlocked. I crept inside and looked around the room for her. Emily was curled up on her beanbag chair with headphones on. She just stared out her window. I walked a little bit closer, and she finally noticed I was there. She took off her headphones with a sigh and looked at me with a frown. 

"Hurts that bad?" I asked as I pulled up her second beanbag to sit on.

She just shrugged.

"Yeah, I remember when I broke my ankle a couple years ago from performing, but as directors always say, 'the show must go on'," I exaggerated the last part.

The corner of her lips twitched but she frowned again.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" I asked concerned.

She made two "O"s with her hands, or tried to since her right hand had a cast on. "Nothing". I watched her sign but the fingers on her right hand couldn't touch.

"Emily for a mute person, you are literally the most talkative person I know. I've never seen you this quiet."

She looked at me and her eyes looked glossy. Only now did I noticed they looked a bit puffy. She'd been crying.

"Tell me what's really wrong," I said seriously.

She stood up quickly and went over to her desk to get her laptop. She opened a word document and began to type, her cast made her slower than usual.

"That's the thing, Nathan. I can't tell you. I can't talk, I can't sign, I can't text, and I can't write on paper. Nearly all forms of communication are now gone. I have never once let this be an issue, but do you know how hard this is?"

 She stopped typing, and when I looked at her, she had streaks of tears coming out of her eyes.

"Hey, hey it's okay," I pulled her in for a hug and tried to soothe her, but how could I? There was nothing I could think of.

"You're gonna get through this," I told her as she wiped her eyes, "I'm going to attempt to cheer you up, but if you wanna be sad, it's okay. As long as you know I'm here for you, alright?"

Her breath evened out and she nodded. 

"Good. Now then, let's do something about your taste in music." I decreed.

She rolled her eyes.

I walked over to her beanbag, taking her ipod and scrolling through her music. Finding a suitable choice, I plugged it in and pressed play. Ex's & Oh's by Elle King.

"I believe the first step in cheering up a best friend is to host a improv dance party." I extended my hand for her to get.

She looked at it and shook her head.

"Alright then. Just to let you know since I'm sober my dancing might not be that great," I warned.

I began to shake my hips while singing lyrics. I also jumped around while banging my head.

"This might be better if I had a partner to show me how to dance," I moon-walked pathetically across her bedroom.

She rolled her eyes and finally stood up. I took her hands, being gentle with her cast on her right. We jumped side to side to the beat of the music. Emily finally started to smile after I spun her. We danced around for six songs before she finally sat on her bed from exhaustion. 

I turned off her stereo and joined her until I remembered to keep both feet on the ground, so I sat across from her on her bean bag.

She looked at me confused and I responded, "Your mom has strict rules."

She giggled and we sat catching our breath.

"So are you still gonna do stage crew?" I asked.

She shrugged.

"Well, those guys would probably need your help. I mean, the play basically depends on you guys."

She smiled proudly and smirked.

"Don't get cocky now, that's my job. I'm the selfish asshole and you're the selfless asshole."

She rolled her eyes again.

"Remember when you were teaching me how to sign by signing everything I said. You were like an echo. I should use that as your contact name."

She held up her finger and pulled out her phone. She clicked on it a few times before showing me one of her contacts.

It was labeled "Narcissistic Nathan". 

"Ha ha, you're hilarious," I said sarcastically.

She shrugged with a fake innocent smile.

"Well then Echo, since we have about three weeks of free time after school. Let's watch some movies."