I dart my eyes into each of his pleading for some kind of brotherly connection, any ounce of mercy he might be willing to show me.
"How is she?"
"She's good." The muscles in his jaw flex, and he looks perturbed like I might be stepping on his toes. "Her head's all messed up. You hurt her pretty bad. Stay the fuck away-‘kay?" He speeds into class without waiting for a response.
"I'd better go." Johanna runs her finger along my jawline. "Don't worry about that girl. I've got ways to make you forget she ever existed." She dips her forefinger into her mouth before trying to jam it in mine, and I stop her.
"You want to do me a favor?"
"Anything for you, sugar." She leans in and takes a bite out of my ear.
"Be nice to Annie. She's a great girl, and you'd be lucky to call her a friend."
Her face sours as she takes back her hand.
"Boy, you've got it bad." She pivots on her heels and heads into class.
"Don't I know it," I whisper, leaning against the wall right outside the room. As much as I'd love to see Annie give her speech, I don't want her to see me. The last thing I want to do is throw her for a loop.
A few girls go first-talking mostly of football games and homecoming. A couple of guys go next, same stuff repackaged. Another girl heads up, whispering so low that for a second I think it might be Annie. I carefully take a quick peek only to see it's Johanna, shitting her pants in the front of the class. Her face is slap-cheek red, her lips tremble, her hands shake so hard her paper is fidgeting. How's that for an interesting turn of events? I guess it's pretty easy to pick on someone with a disability but hard to come across well-spoken and confident in a room full of your peers. I want to laugh but can't. The girl is clearly in pain. After several minutes, the teacher thanks the class for their presentations and commends them to offer one another a final round of applause.
Did I miss Annie?
"Excuse me," a female voice struggles to pierce through the dull clapping. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to give my presentation as well."
The room stills. All I hear is the sound of my own breathing, loud as panting into a microphone.
It's her. Annie had the balls to stick up for herself after the professor all but dismissed her.
"Please, Ms. Edwards, take your rightful place at the front of the class. We're honored to hear your oral presentation."
At least he's got the decency to show her some respect. Swear to God, if I hear one person so much as giggle I'm storming in and rattling a few heads together.
"Hello. My name is Annie Edwards, and I was born profoundly deaf."
A pang of grief, of relief, of pride and admiration ride through me all at once. Her voice is perfect. Her octave a little louder than the other girls, but that's because she's confident. You can see she's making an effort to annunciate, to project and make sure she's heard all the way in the back of the room, and, lucky for me, the hall.
"My first day at Whitney Briggs was, in a lot of ways, my first day in the real world. For most of my life I've attended the Quincy School for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing. Deaf Culture was an immersion process there. I knew no other life except for the safety and shelter of my own community, populated with others that share my condition. On my first day at Whitney Briggs, I was nearly run over by a service truck on its way to the food court to make its daily delivery. I didn't hear the truck driver honking at me and was unaware that such vehicles were allowed on campus during school hours. As fate would have it, a very nice boy swept me off my feet, literally, and brought me to safety."
The class fills with a choir of aww!
"That moment, something else happened to me that was life changing. Not only did this boy teach me a valuable lesson about campus safety, we ended up dating, and he taught me a valuable lesson in love as well."
My heart breaks because the lesson didn't end well. Did the lesson end? I want to smile and insist it didn't.
"This is a picture of the first sunset we shared. I had to take it with my phone. Sorry about the selfie. As you can see, he's pretty cute." A soft round of laughter floats through the room. A few people let out a catcall or two. "As our feelings for one another increased so did the locations of our dates. His brother's ranch, the coffee shop where we had a brief yet violent encounter with my over protective big brothers." More laughter. "This is one of my favorite shots-serving dinner at the homeless shelter together." A few moments of silence. I can see the light dim and brighten as she flashes picture after picture on the overhead monitor. "This is the Black Bear Saloon. I've sort of saved these pictures for last because they mean so much to me." The room darkens and brightens again. "He's the lead singer of the 12 Deadly Sins, and although I cannot hear the beautiful music which so many of you enjoy, I was able to sit and feel the vibrations from the speakers pulsating through me. It was as if he was pouring his voice inside of me, and, for those brief moments, we were one being. I don't really know what music sounds like. I can only imagine the sound of his voice when he sings-but, when it strums through me, I can honestly say that it feels like magic. He put his soul into every lyric. I could feel it. Literally." Another moment of silence drifts by, and the world starts to blur through the tears pooling in my eyes. Annie has me gutted. Her presentation is the best gift she could have given me. A precious accounting of our time together-of our love. But I know what's coming. It doesn't end well-nothing ever does for me. "One last picture." The class breaks out in another choir of aww as if they were admiring kitten porn. I'm curious, so I peer in. There we are, tangled in one another's arms, my head touching hers, my eyes closed. It looks as if it could have been taken just about anywhere, but I know where that was taken-my bed, the first night I made her mine.
"I learned a lot of lessons this, my first semester at Whitney Briggs, and not all of them were delivered in the classroom. If I could tell you one thing that I'll take with me the rest of my scholastic years-and for the rest of my life-it's to make the most of the people, the opportunities, of the love you have in your life because classes finish, people change, one semester turns into the next-sometimes relationships end and you have to move on." A gut wrenching silence comes over the class as the gravity of what she's saying sinks in.
"What happened to the guy?" someone shouts from the back.
I shouldn't hear this. I shouldn't be here. My eyes gravitate back to where they don't belong, and I spot beautiful Annie at the front of the class. Her long hair falls in waves over her shoulders. She's dressed in a pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse. Annie is making every effort to put her best foot forward. In a word, she's stunning.
Annie takes an audible breath. "He will always be very special to me. Someone very wise once told me that your first love hurts the most. That you never truly get over that person. I have nothing to compare the pain with-but it does hurt very much. And as for getting over him-I don't think that is possible. I'm happy to let him live right here." She tucks her hand against her heart. "I'll be taking a break in that department for a while. I'm not sure I can ever really love like that again. I guess I should have taken it slow, but after looking at the big picture, I don't think I would change a thing. He taught me a very valuable lesson and that was to have no fear. Because of the strength he gave me, I'm here speaking to you today-something I would never have even thought possible on my own. Because of him, I'm going to face one of my lifelong fears and have surgery in just a few weeks so that I might be like you, able to hear every beautiful sound that life has to offer. And maybe, one day, I'll be brave enough to hear his music, listen to his voice for the first and last time."
A slow applause starts in then builds to a crescendo. Annie has brought the entire class to its feet. Tears stream down my face, and I wipe them away with my shoulder. It's taking far more restraint than I have not to head in there and wrap my arms around her, to give her the happy ending she deserves in life, and, God knows, I want to. But this isn't about me. I'm not up for stealing the spotlight from where it really belongs-on Annie.
Bodies stream out past me and bleed into the hall. I spot Tristan heading up to Annie and signing something. She opens her mouth in shock and glances to the door.