Page 39 of Give Me a Sign
I can’t believe this is happening. I totally read this all wrong, and he must not feel as I thought. I’m so embarrassed I can’t even look at him.
“We don’t really know each other?” I ask. Isaac reads my lips and nods.
I must’ve caught him off guard, but why is he being so confusing? I turn to walk away, but he reaches forward and taps my arm. “Y-e-t.”
“So, you don’t... like me?” I say. The words must come at a whisper, but it doesn’t matter. My arms feel too heavy to match with sign.
“I didn’t say that.” He seems startled, confused, out of his element.
“It’s fine,” I say and sign, jabbing my thumb to my chest. “Forget I said—”I can’t call to mind the word for “anything.” I take a few steps backward.
He waves for my attention, signing something with the word “slow,” but my brain is already spiraling. “Wait,” he signs, with a panicked, apologetic look on his face.
I need to get out of here. What was I thinking? I spin around, effectively ending the conversation, and speed away.
He’s right. We don’t know each other yet, really. But before this, we were bonding, which is impressive since we can barely communicate as it is. What did I expect would happen by confessing my feelings? The more I think about it, what if he’s just trying to let me down gently? Seriously, there’s no way he likes me back.
I ignore what looks like a party in the staff cabin and go straight to bed. I carefully shine my flashlight to avoid waking the campers as I climb into my top bunk, collapsing face-first onto my pillow, wishing I could fall asleep. But I keep replaying the whole conversation with Isaac in my mind. Over and over. I go over the memory, overanalyzing and changing his response every time, ranging from “we don’t really know each other” to “I don’t like you.”
And, of course, we have another on-duty shift together tomorrow night.
How am I going to face him after this?
“Nope,” I say, seeking out Simone at breakfast in the crowded dining hall the next morning. I ran straight to her after making accidental eye contact with Isaac. He gave me such a sympathetic smile. It was painful.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, loading her plate with pancakes.
Bobby walks by, and I nudge him. “You were wrong.”
“Someone’s cranky this morning,” Bobby says. They both can tell I’m upset and wait for me to elaborate.
“Isaac doesn’t...” I say, letting them infer what I’m talking about. “And it was embarrassing and terrible, and I’m not gonna talk about it.”
“Let’s get you some extra pancakes,” Simone says, wrapping an arm around me.
Bobby quietly asks, “But what happened?”
“He said we don’t know each other well enough.” I add the one word that I’ve been clinging to hopefully. “Yet.”
Bobby wipes a hand down his face. “That sweet, sweet boy. Doesn’t he know that’s the whole point? To get to know each other?”
“I guess not,” I say, loading my plate full of syrup to drown my sorrows.
Back at my table, Blake takes advantage of my apathy this morning by topping her pancakes sky-high with chocolate chips. Honey waves at her to save some for the rest of them, but Blake ignores her.
Someone taps my shoulder, and I have to brace myself in case it’s Isaac.
But it’s Oliver.
“Hey, friend, any chance you want to hang out later? I’ve got some things to catch you up on.” He looks like he’s been dying to talk about something.
“Oh, really?” I’m intrigued and happy for any distractions.
He smiles wide but notices my bad mood. “And about whatever’s clearly bothering you right now, too.”
“Yes, please. Oh, wait... no. I, unfortunately, am on duty tonight.”
“That’s rough,” Oliver says.
