Alterity

Chapter Eleven

"So, let me get this straight." Says Kayla. "You're going on mini Sign dates with a deaf dude?"

I laugh. "I mean, kinda, yeah."

"And you're just telling me this now because?"

I shrug. "Honestly, I've been so in-my-own-head about the whole thing, it didn't even cross my mind."

"No kidding!" She says. "Explains why I've hardly heard from you—you've been too focused on this boy."

Kayla is by far the best friend I have ever had in my life. Despite her being neurotypical, she understands the way my brain works better than anyone I've ever known previously. Not only that, but she accepts me for who I am, and the things that many find weird or annoying about me, she actually likes. The two of us met at my former school: A charter school called Bailey.

It's supposed to cater to—and be more accommodating—to people with learning disabilities, but that's a bunch of nonsense. Just one of many programs that take kids with the mildest cases of ADHD or dyslexia, give them some extra time on tests and call themselves accommodating. It's a bunch of bullshit. Being removed from Bailey was very hard for me, because it was the first school I'd been to where I'd felt like I found a home. While I'm not the type of person to have a friend group—I lean more towards one best friend and numerous acquaintances—I got along fabulously with just about everybody there. See, Bailey was kind of an artsy place. Everyone was into music, theater, dance, yoga and so on. Hence, pretty much all of us there were pretty chill and largely accepting of just about anyone that might walk in.

Sadly, I could not keep my grades up to save my life. I was failing just about everything, and once my dad had me go to school with untied shoes, it was all over. Kayla tied them for me for a bit, but staff still found out. They weren't mean about it or anything, but I think that, on top of my failing every class I was taking, just pushed them over the edge. They called my parents and myself in for a meeting and explained that unfortunately, they felt that Bailey was not the right place for me. After which, the social worker recommended The Ducharme School, a program she said that she felt would be accommodating to all my needs and also provide all the testing services should they ever be needed.

The second she said she had a friend that worked in admissions at TDS—so we wouldn't really have to do much work—my parents jumped on the opportunity. Not only that, but they requested if she could ask about possible admission for my little brother, Aiden, as well, as the private program they initially had him in was draining too much of our family's limited finances. The last week at Bailey Charter School was so hard for me. I left there feeling emptier than I'd felt in a very long time. The only positive is that Kayla doesn't live too far from me, so I can get to her house—or her to mine—pretty easily.

And, of course, it's Chicago, so more often than not, we both just take transit down to Lincoln Park and walk around and hang out. Lincoln Park is a good spot because it's quieter than most places in the city, beautiful, spacious, and if you go at the right time, not all that busy either. What it must be like to be rich—I can only imagine.

"So." Kayla says, squeezing my hands in that sensory-friendly way she does. "What's the plan? Are you gonna ask this guy out officially or just keep practicing Sign Language and see what happens?"

"I don't know, honestly." I shrug.

"He's gay, yeah?"

I nod. "I definitely get that vibe from him, but I'm not entirely sure on that either."

Kayla gives me a thumbs up. "Damn, Erik! Just killin' it over here!"

I roll my eyes. "Well, what do you think I should do?"

"Um. Ask him out?" Says Kayla. "Worst thing that happens is he says 'no.'"

"Um, no." I say. "Worst thing that happens is he turns out to be straight, gets super offended that I'd assume he wasn't and punches me in the face or something."

"Ah, fair point." Kayla nods. "Lemme see a picture of this boy."

I pull up his Facebook on my phone and hand it to Kayla. She studies his profile picture and swipes to the next one. Then the next.

"Wow, dude." She says. "He is gorgeous."

"I know, right?!" I beam.

"Aren't you worried at all though, about the language barrier?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

Kayla shrugs and shakes her head. "I just mean that forming a relationship—let alone a romantic relationship—with someone that isn't fluent in your native language can be tricky."

"I mean, yeah." I say. "But I'm learning."

"But becoming fluent in any language takes years, you know?" Kayla hands the phone back to me. "Honey, all I'm saying is that I don't want you to get your hopes up and be disappointed if the language barrier is an issue for him."

I nod, my gaze turning to the floor. "Yeah. True."

Kayla gives me a smile and squeezes my hands again. "But hey, I could be totally wrong."