Deaf Daisy | #1 in #americansignlanguage

2 First Day Daisy

Content warning// marijuana usage, suicide mention

         I'm a junior in high school. I should be a senior, but when I lost my hearing, I had a difficult time keeping up with the rest of my classmates. My parents and the faculty elected on holding me back so I could play catch up. If they hadn't, I might never have met Serena.

She picks me up for school in her blue Toyota Prius. She doesn't honk when she arrives. She texts me the blue sedan emoji. The phone vibrates in my hand and I go out to her.

We don't chat on the ride to school because her hands are occupied by the wheel and her eyes are occupied by the road. I notice she has the radio on, so I turn it up so I can feel the vibrations. She looks at me like I'm nuts and turns it back down a few notches. "It's seven thirty in the morning," she says. I read her lips.

I shrug. Sorry, I sign.

The lot is already full up although we've arrived twenty minutes early. It's our first day back from winter break. The up-front spot we'd utilized all first semester is taken, of course.

We'll leave a bit earlier tomorrow, Serena signs to me.

Great, I sign back.

Once we're free of the Prius's tiny cab, the conversation can fully flourish. Serena's family always travels for Christmas and New Year's; this is the first time I've seen her in three weeks. We texted every day, though, so no need for How was your break? commentary. She skips straight to the juice. Did you hear about Cannon Kane?

Cannon Kane. Now that's a name I haven't thought about in almost a month. No need to think about your classmates when you don't have to see them every day. No, what about him?

His mom died on New Year's Eve.

Oh, my God. That's awful.

They think he had something to do with it.

"What?!" I can't help the vocal outburst. I see a few surrounding heads jerk our way. We've made it to Serena's locker now. While at first alarmed by whatever sound I'd made, they quickly go back to their own when they realize it was just Deaf Daisy.

Because sure, Cannon Kane is Cannon Kane, but he isn't a killer.

I go back to signing so that our conversation remains private. Why would they think that?

I don't know. I heard they found him with the gun.

They think he shot her?! I sign the word with extra emphasis.

I didn't talk to him. My mom heard from somebody. They're making him go to counseling. I heard her talking to my dad about it. Everyone at her office is worried about getting involved. That they'll be forced to go under oath if he chooses them.

What about doctor patient confidentiality?

She's not technically a doctor. I don't know.

Once we've retrieved Serena's books for first and second periods, we switch hallways to retrieve mine. Shauna Howard, mental health and grief counselor extraordinaire, has probably seen twenty five percent of our student body, at this point. Us Gen Z-ers and our lust for life. It's not our fault our grandparents created an unbearable hellscape of a world that serves only those in places of power and unattainable privilege.

You don't think he really did it, do you? I ask Serena.

I don't know. This is her favorite phrase. I don't know him any better than you do. But I definitely have gotten a certain type of energy from him.