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CHAPTER FIVE

TAMERON

Knives.

He’d named the damn kitten Knives. Who named a cat that? Dayton Adams, that was who.

Okay, the little thing was absolutely adorable, and while I had no clue why Dayton sent me pics multiple times a day, I loved watching Knives come out of her shell. She’d attached herself to Dayton like an octopus, it seemed, because every single picture he sent me showed parts of him as well.

Half his face when she’d found a spot on his shoulder.

His thick thighs when she’d found a spot on his lap.

His biceps, when she’d curled up on his arm and had fallen asleep—and that man’s biceps were a work of art, especially for his age.

I’d always been in excellent physical shape, but even I couldn’t match his fitness level.

Now granted, working out wasn’t as easy as it used to be.

Before, I would’ve been able to do a five-mile run in full battle rattle, but those days were gone.

Now, everything I did for exercise was low-impact.

I could still do weights training—and I did, though usually with machines and not free weights, for safety reasons—but cardio was a challenge.

Kinda dangerous to be running on a treadmill and get a sudden dizzy spell.

Which is where the yoga came in…and Dayton.

As much as it pained me to admit it, he was an excellent teacher.

His class had a gentle flow, making it easy to follow.

Plus, I had no trouble understanding him and following his instructions, which hadn’t always been the case.

My first yoga teacher had taught in a soft, sweet voice, which might’ve been great for relaxing but not so much for my ability to understand her.

I took my time in shavasana as the class ended, then slowly returned to the real world. My body felt great as I rolled up my yoga mat, fluid and relaxed. That should tide me over till the next class, three days from now.

Dayton made eye contact with me. Oh crap.

Was he going to talk to me? Conversations with him always felt so awkward.

I’d never had any issues with my social skills, and I had a reputation for being funny and witty, but with him, it was like my brain switched to different software.

Old, slow software that made for stilted conversations and weird reactions.

I looked away as I hurried out of the room into the locker rooms, where I quickly grabbed my personal belongings from my locker and headed out. At least after a yoga class, I didn’t have to shower or be forced to change due to being sweaty or smelly.

In the lobby, I checked my phone out of habit. Oh, a message from Simon, my ASL teacher. I stopped and opened the message, my face falling as I read it. He’d failed me? He’d fucking failed me after I worked so hard on that assignment? He was such a dick.

“What’s with the face?”

I wasn’t even surprised when Dayton stepped up next to me. Instead of brushing him off—which I would have under normal circumstances—I showed him my phone. He read the message, then frowned. “You failed an ASL exam?”

“Yeah, and I worked really hard on it.”

“What was the assignment?”

“We had to do a five-minute talk about the importance of language to us, how we viewed language.”

His frown deepened. “That sounds rather abstract.”

“It was, so I wrote the whole thing out first and had Nash check it. I mean, he’s the only one out of all of us who has a college degree. He suggested some changes, which I made, and then I translated it into ASL and practiced for hours to get it right. I really thought I nailed it.”

His expression softened. “I’m sorry. That must be so frustrating.”

I dragged a hand through my hair, realizing, to my dismay, that it was a bit shaky. Apparently, I was even more emotional than I’d realized. “I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“Do you want me to take a look at it?”

The words fell out of my mouth before I could even debate the wisdom of this. “Yeah, please.”

“Let’s sit in my truck to watch it. That way, we have some privacy and can have a quiet conversation.”

I happily agreed, and two minutes later, we’d installed ourselves in his truck and I’d pulled up the video for him. He watched it intently, nodding at certain times, smiling at some of it, and clearly following along.

“Well?” I asked when he’d finished it. “Was it that bad? Did I make some big mistakes I didn’t notice?”

He met my eyes. “Not at all. I spotted some small things, but nothing that warrants a failing grade.”

“Small things like what?”

“Your non-manual markers—your facial expressions—need some work. At some point, you say you were surprised by how different ASL is from spoken language, but your face didn’t show that surprise.”

“Fair enough. I know I need to improve that aspect. It’s hard for me because it feels so over the top, almost like making fun of something.”

He chuckled. “I guess it does if you’re not used to it, but it’s a crucial element in communicating.”

“But other than that?” I pressed.

“Nothing big. A few small mistakes, but nothing that made me lose track.”

“So why did he fail me?” I knew that had come out way too emotional, including a very obvious crack in my voice, but I couldn’t hide how upset I was.

Dayton put his hand on my knee for a moment, sending a jolt of warmth through me. “He shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry.”

I appreciated his comfort more than I had expected.

Out of anyone in my life, he was the one person able to judge whether I’d done a good job.

Nash had read the essay, but he wouldn’t have been able to check my test because his ASL was nowhere near my level.

But Dayton was fluent. “Thank you. That means a lot…”

Then I cocked my head. I’d been watching him, and something in his face gave me pause. “But you have an idea why he failed me.”

Dayton sighed. “One of the biggest downfalls of growing up speaking ASL is that I have no poker face. My face is an open book that shows everything I’m feeling.”

That made me chuckle.

“No, I’m serious. In fact, I can’t even play actual poker. Everyone can immediately see it on my face when I have a great hand.”

I’d never thought of it like that, but I could see how that could happen. As he’d said, facial expressions were a crucial part of ASL, so he’d grown up using his face to communicate. “That’s funny…but also annoying, I think.”

He shrugged. “Every now and then, but it’s usually not a big deal. But that is why you saw something on my face.”

I grew serious again. “Because you have an inkling why he failed me. Is it because he doesn’t like me? I don’t think he does, but I didn’t expect him to fail me for that.”

Dayton hesitated, then said, “If I understand your talk correctly, you said that ASL is much harder to learn than you had expected because it’s so much more than learning signs.

And that while you appreciate the backup ASL gives you and want to keep getting better at it in case your hearing deteriorates, you prefer spoken English over ASL. ”

That was a pretty good summary, actually, but my stomach sank as what Dayton said registered with me. “He failed me because I gave my honest opinion?”

Dayton slowly nodded. “That would be my guess.”

“B-but it’s the truth! At least for me it is. How can he punish me for being honest about how I feel?”

Dayton’s face showed nothing but empathy and understanding. “Can I try to explain?”

I nodded.

“ASL has a very different meaning to hearing people than Deaf folks. Even for those who are partially deaf, ASL has a different function since they can often get by with spoken English. For Deaf people, ASL is their only option. Lipreading only gets you so far, as you’ve undoubtedly discovered, and when you’ve been Deaf from birth, your spoken words are never gonna sound the same as hearing people, even with speech therapy.

You’ll always be different and feel different…

but not with ASL. ASL is how they can communicate perfectly without feeling different, resulting in a strong emotional attachment to it…

just like immigrants have to their native language, for example.

I think your teacher felt offended by your opinion of ASL because it came across as judgmental.

Maybe even elitist, since he could’ve interpreted it as spoken English being superior. ”

I hung my head, avoiding his eyes. Fuck. I hadn’t intended to make it sound that way, but now that Dayton explained it, I could see how it could come across that way. “I was trying to be honest and to verbalize my feelings about language, like the assignment said.”

Another gentle pat on my knee. “I know you were, and I don’t think you were offensive or elitist…

but I can also see why he’d feel differently.

For a long time, hearing people forced the Deaf community to assimilate into the hearing world and use oral language only, so there’s also a cultural and emotional attachment to ASL.

It matters for more reasons than being a mere communication tool. Does that make sense?”

It did, but why had my teacher never given me that context?

If I’d known, I wouldn’t have worded it like that.

Or I would’ve at least been more sensitive to the issue.

Now I felt like a total asshole. “He never told me any of this. I know I still have a lot to learn, but this would’ve been really helpful to know. ”

“I’m sorry he didn’t, and I agree it would’ve been good if he’d talked more about that aspect. Still, he shouldn’t have failed you for that. Even if you’d told him ASL sucked, you still should’ve been graded on your performance, not on your opinion.”

“Fat lotta good that does me now,” I muttered. “I’m gonna have to retake the test. And if I wanna pass, I guess I’ll have to change it into a whole damn ode to ASL. Which sucks because it is really goddamn hard to learn, and I should be able to say so without getting punished for it.”

A peek at Dayton told me he was fighting to hold in his laughter. “It’s okay,” I told him, sighing. “You can laugh at me. I’m being dramatic.”

“You should bring some of that dramatic flair into your facial expressions,” he teased me, and I had to give him points for being witty there. Not that I would admit it.

“Har har.”

“I don’t think you have to change it into an ode. If you would acknowledge the vital importance of ASL to the Deaf community, that would go a long way toward appeasing him. Just show him you understand that aspect. And I’m happy to practice with you… If you want.”

My head shot up. “What?”

“I can practice ASL with you…if you want. Or help you with that assignment. If you need help, that is. I’m not saying you do, but if you felt you did, I could watch it for you and give feedback?”

Was he rambling? Why on earth would Dayton be rambling? He almost sounded like he was…nervous. But why would he be?

Oh wait. I’d taken his head off a few times before, so he was probably mentally bracing himself for me being an asshole again. Not gonna lie. That gave me a solid rush of guilt. “That’s very nice of you to offer.”

Pure surprise flashed over his face, which only reinforced the guilt. Had he done it on purpose? Nah, that wasn’t like him. Expressive face, that was all.

Then his face fell. “That sounds like a polite introduction to saying no.”

It had been, but how had he known? Was I really that predictable? That grated on me, especially after he’d already made me feel guilty. So obviously, I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right. “I was gonna accept, actually. Unless you’re withdrawing your offer.”

“Accept? For real?”

“Jesus, you don’t need to make it sound like it’s a miracle.”

“Well, no offense, but it kinda is. I thought for sure you were gonna say no.”

“So maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” I couldn’t help sounding a little smug.

“Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced. “But I’m happy to help, so let me know when you want to get together.”

Get together? Oh, to practice. “I will.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I have some new pictures of Knives for you.”

I leaned in as he unlocked his phone and opened the Photo app. The first thing I saw was a shirtless picture of him posing in front of a mirror.

Oh, that was a really nice shot. The soft lighting perfectly accentuated his build rather than creating harsh lines and shadows. I could easily see why people would find him attractive, even if I wasn’t into men.

“Taking new pics for Grindr, I see?”

“And what if I was?”

I pointed at the picture. “If you turn a little more to the right, your angle would be better for showing off your arms and shoulders without looking like the Hulk.”

When he didn’t respond, I looked at him, and he was blinking. “Sorry, I needed a moment to process. You’re giving me tips for pictures now?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Because…because I thought you were about to mock me for being on Grindr.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. “Why the fuck would I do that? You’re bi, right? Nash told us you were out as bi.”

He nodded.

“So it makes sense you’d be looking for both men and women.”

“Yeah, but Grindr is mostly for hookups. Not for relationships.”

I let out a snorting laugh. “And you thought I’d have a problem with that? Do I look like the no-sex-before-marriage type? Dude, have all the sex you want. You’re single, so what’s the big deal?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I wasn’t expecting that from you.”

“Why, because I come across as some judgmental dick?” Anger filled me. “I guess I failed your test too, huh?”

Before he could respond, I’d opened the door and was out of his truck, slamming it shut. Fucking asshole. See, that was why I didn’t like him. I always felt like he was judging me…and apparently, I’d been right.

I didn’t need his help. He could go suck a dick for all I cared.