Page 28

If I want to fuck a Vyastil, I’ll find someone else. Like Quilliyn. Or maybe Zinni.

Eissa made it clear he and I would never happen again, and I intend to hold him to that. My pride doesn’t need any more beatings.

Another half hour goes by before the door opens again, and I see two familiar faces. Everest and Rathyn stroll past the foyer, Everest looking content like he always does, and Rathyn, well…he looks like this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him.

Rathyn goes around the room, diplomatic as ever as he shakes everyone’s hands, though there’s a hint of disdain in his eyes and a curl on his lips. He only looks more relaxed when he sees Cielo and moves over to greet him just as Everest finds my brother.

The party is clearly lively and full of conversation, but like always, people tend to forget what I need if I’m not directly in their sightline. And I’m not unreasonable. I don’t expect a room full of hearing people to sign every conversation, especially when I’m not part of it, but this is also why I do these things sparingly.

It’s lonely sometimes. And that feeling has been getting heavier with each passing day, it seems.

Taking a breath, I make my way through the kitchen where Gia and Nonna are arguing over something in one of the food containers, and I slip through the sliding glass door to find my father leaning against the railing. He looks up at me when I close the door, and in the dim light, I catch his smile.

‘Why you out here?’ I ask.

‘Hiding from Nonna. And it’s loud in there.’

‘The one lucky thing about being Deaf. I don’t have to hear it.’

My dad’s mouth lifts in a small laugh, then he pulls out a joint and lights it. He doesn’t smoke often, but he has a prescription for his migraines, and he always uses it at family gatherings like this. My mom makes fun of him for being the least like an Italian in these moments. He loves his family, but he’s more introverted than most.

‘Want some?’ he asks, holding it out to me. I shake my head, inhaling the bitter scent of marijuana floating through the air.

‘What has Nonna done now? She nagging you with her to-do list still?’

‘Yep, still haven’t gone over to her place to hang her pictures.’ His hand wobbles with his signs a bit, a subtle reminder of his age, and it makes my chest ache when I think about how he won’t be with me forever.

We’ve always been close, the two of us relishing the silence and stillness of the escape. I know my dad felt guilty about me being born deaf, but after this many years, I think he’s learned to appreciate the peace it can bring. Granted, I was probably the loudest child in the house thanks to not being able to hear the sounds I was making, but I was also a lot like him.

I preferred these moments to socializing, and I like that we have this together.

‘Luca,’ he signs after he stubs the glowing cherry out, then tucks his half-smoked joint into his carrying case.

I lift my chin in acknowledgement.

‘Are you okay? You seem…’ His hands hesitate. I don’t know if he’s searching for the right words, or if he’s just stoned. After a beat, he shrugs. ‘Quiet lately.’

I know what he means, and I bow my head, gathering my thoughts. ‘I wish I was a more productive person. Like Dante. Even with his pain, he does so much. I feel useless. Unloved.’

My dad’s face falls. ‘You’re not useless. Never useless.’ His signs are fierce. He’s told me this before.

More than once. When I was little and people would mock me, or when hearing teachers at the mainstream school would imply that education was pointless because no one would ever hire me. My parents worked their asses off to make sure I never internalized those things.

And I don’t think that’s what this is. My life has been a short series of bad decisions, and now I don’t know what to do with myself.

‘If you need me, you know where to find me,’ he says when it’s clear I’m not going to answer him.

I lean in and kiss the top of his head, and he pats me on the back. ‘I love you.’ I use the three-fingered sign at him, then glance back over my shoulder, through the window toward the party.

Rathyn’s in the corner of the room with his long nail poking at a balloon. I don’t want him to pop it, so I push my way back inside and skirt Amara, who tries to get my attention.

‘Those pop,’ I tell him when he looks up at me, and he cocks his head, carefully pulling his hand back.

‘I do not like these orbs,’ he signs stiffly, and I hide a grin. ‘And everyone speaks at loud volumes here. Everest does not do this.’

‘That’s my family. Luckily for me, I can’t hear it.’

‘You are blessed.’