Alterity

PART 2: LEO--Chapter Eighteen

PART TWO: LEO

Chapter Eighteen

When my parents first told me that I would be starting sixth grade at The Ducharme School, I was pissed. TDS is pretty infamous among the Chicago schools as a sort of last-resort place to go, you know? Like, where the kids go that have disabilities that fail every class or whatever and can't afford to go anywhere else. I'm not disabled—I'm DEAF. Both of my parents and my sister are hearing, in case you were wondering.

Anyway, they gave the whole rundown that TDS was the closest option to us, had a whole deaf program—sort of—with ASL interpreters and all that, and, of course, it's a non-profit, so it's free. People that go to TDS don't exactly come from money and being a non-profit, they rely a lot on donations—which they don't too many of—so we're pretty much scraping by. The books aren't in the best shape but there are enough for everybody and the food sucks but it's edible, so I'm not complaining.

In all honesty, I was surprised once I started school there that I actually ended up really liking it. There are other deaf and hard-of-hearing students and I managed to find a friend group like I'd never before experienced. Real friends, you know? The kind that I can talk to about things I'd normally not say aloud. Of course, I'm still a pretty private person, but you know what I mean. I feel safe at TDS, is my point. Definitely safer than I did while in the Chicago Public Schools. Thank god.

It's safe to say that freshman year got off to an interesting start. First of all, my dad concluded my summer vacation by asking me when I thought I'd start dating. I'm like uhh.. when someone likes me? How do you even answer a question like that? This is a concept that most—if not all—of my friends can't comprehend, but I hate summer vacation. Summer, winter, spring—whatever—if it's a lengthy break from school, I hate it. Being at home is not a fun time for me and there's not all that many places to go. I mean, there are, but I'd only go out if I had a friend to go meet or something. I don't do solo downtown venturing.

So, yeah, I was practically jumping up and down when it was finally time to return to TDS for the fall semester—I'd had more than enough family time. We had a few new faces show up this year, but one in particular happened to catch my attention. I'm sitting in home room on the second or third day of school and notice this kid just staring at me. Like, really staring at me. Not into my eyes, though—if that makes sense. When I looked up at him, we made eye-contact for barely a second before he looked away. I couldn't help but smile and laugh. Then a bit later on, I'm eating lunch and this guy just walks up to me again to say hi. It was amazing.

So, he tries signing to me and just bombs it—classic only-had-one-online-ASL-lesson style bombs it. Oh my god, I laughed so hard. Not because I thought bad of him or anything but because it was so cute it was hilarious! Here he is, this little dude named Erik—a bit shorter than me—with this straight, messy skater-boy hair and skinny little body . . . it was just precious. When I went home that night though, the thought that maybe I had hurt his feelings by laughing kept nagging at me, so I decided that it'd probably be wise to apologize and try and make things right with him—and thank god I did.

In the process of my apology, I ended up agreeing to help Erik practice his ASL, acting like a tutor in a sense. Well, tutor soon turned more into teacher and teacher soon turned into amazing friend that I'm helping learn just by our regular and lengthy conversations. He is something else. Something different, and I don't mean because of his autism. Erik is genuine, straight forward, of course, adorable, and looks at me—despite the lack of eye-contact—in a way I don't think anyone ever has before. In a way that makes me struggle to catch my breath . . . and I love every second of it.