Page 71 of The Sound of Him

That lightbulb of his gets a little brighter as he nods.

My signing book says I should sign as much as I can while I speak, to connect the words with the signs in my brain and to get my fingers used to the movements. It’s supposed to help him practice reading signs, too.

That book is also what taught me to pay attention to my expressions, since they can change the meaning of a sign-movement.

I lift my eyebrows now and make the same sign-movement as his ‘why’ to sign, “Because- uh.” I pause, not just because I don’t have the sign for the situation, but because it’s hard to explain. “Well, I tried tocook-” I know the sign for ‘cook’, so I do that as I say it, his eyes falling to my hands to watch. “-and it turns out I’m reallyreallybad-” I sign ‘bad’,relying on my eyebrows again so it isn’t interpreted as the sign for ‘good’, “-at it.”

He looks at the plate again, this time with a face that looks pretty much identical to Bryce’s after he’d taken that bite. Then he looks back at me and points before signing,eat,with one eyebrow raised in question.

“Yeah.” I nod my fist. My head nods with it automatically. “We all ate - uh.” I grimace. “Sorry, I don’t have a sign for any of this, but we ate a ton of random stuff. Sort of just whatever we had on hand. There’s plenty of stuff left, though. Fruit and veggies and stuff to make sandwiches.” I perk up. “Oh, I know that one -sandwich.” I proudly do the sign, one hand moving in from the side, slotting into the gap created by the sign for ‘eat’. “Isn’t thatone so nifty? You literally make a sandwich with your hands. It’s almost as good as a pun.”

His eyebrows are raised like he’s not sure he agrees, but his lips are twitching like he might want to smile anyway.

Then he seems to think of something and I lose him. The lightbulb is turned off, his shoulders curling forward, his feet taking him a step away from me.

“You don’t have to eat a sandwich,” I say quickly, forgetting to sign along. “It was just an example. You can eat whatever you want. There’s a lot of easy stuff. The protein bars are actually pretty good. We’ve got a few flavors-”

He flinches.

All the air in my chest evaporates.

What was I saying?Protein bars. I was going to list the flavors.

He doesn’t like protein bars? Is that it?No, it has to be something more than that. He doesn’t like sandwiches - at least not today - but that reaction was just sad, not scared.

Thisis scared.

Matt isn’t looking at me and his body language is fuckingscared.

I’ve never had this much time to study him before. I don’t know if these mood changes are normal for him. I don’t know if he scares easily. I don’t know any of it because I’ve never really looked.

Maybe me looking at him is the problem. Maybe my attention is what’s upsetting him. I remember that feeling, when I was little. That feeling like the eyes that were on me were pinpricking my skin. It didn’t matter that the people were just worried, or that they cared - I just wanted to disappear.

I just wanted to hide.

I turn my back, grabbing for a dish in the sink. “Don’t mind me, rambling again. You don’t need a list of everything in thekitchen. You know perfectly well how to find stuff. Just as long as you steer clear of that plate on the counter. Seriously.”

There’s nothing but silence for a few seconds before I hear him open a cabinet. I keep washing, pretending that I can’t see him out of the corner of my eye. He slips two sleeves of crackers into the front pouch of his hooded sweatshirt. I finish washing my plate and move on to the next. He grabs two granola bars, turning one over to read the back. I start on a bowl. He puts one granola bar back. The other goes into his pocket. I grab the bottle brush to start on the drinking glasses. He carefully moves around me to the fridge. I rinse the glass in my hand. He grabs two string cheeses, those going in the pocket too. I have to fight the urge to fully look at him again. Surely that pocket is nearly bursting with stuff at this point.

I start on the silverware. He grabs two sports drinks and tucks them against his chest with his arms.

I tell myself to mind my own business.

He’s almost out of the kitchen when I disobey.

“I’ll be up late tonight.”

He half-turns, looking at me. I match the movement, ignoring the sudsy water dripping onto the floor.

“I just thought - well, I wanted you to know that it’s me, in the office. It’ll be me all night. I don’t know if you’ve seen Jake or Maison coming in and out lately. They’ve been in there a lot now that Travis is gone. But when I’m finished with this, I’m heading up there. It’ll just be me after that. For the whole night. You know.” I shrug, careful to keep my expression neutral, almost bored. “In case you wanna come hide. Or anything.”

He looks down at the bottles he’s got pressed against his chest, one of the hands also still holding some papers. I realize the problem - he can’t sign.

Before I can figure out a way to fix it for him, he fixes it for himself. He shifts the bottles until he has one hand free and clumsily fingerspells,M-A-Y-B-E.Then he signs,Thank you.

I smile.

And he’s gone.