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The second was something new. Something that felt kind of important. He’d been emboldened since his night with Caleb at his house. Bodhi stopped second guessing every time he lifted his hands. He stopped seeing that look of impatient irritation in Caleb’s eyes every time Bodhi signed slow or got things wrong.
He could still feel the graze of Caleb’s fingers as he’d reach out to correct him, and he fell asleep three nights in a row to the memory of Caleb’s arms around him, squeezing him with the absolute perfect amount of pressure. Bodhi wished the night had been under better circumstances. It killed him to know that Caleb was still suffering, but the fact that he looked to Bodhi for comfort meant…
Well.
Something.
Bodhi might be shit at reading social situations, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew there was more happening below the surface than Caleb was willing to admit.
He was terrified to get his hopes up, but at the same time, he couldn’t help it.
He hadn’t seen Caleb much over the last week thanks to the café repairs and the crowds, which had only just started to slow down. But every time they passed in the corridor, or swept by each other in the kitchen, Caleb would hold his gaze—warm and lingering.
Bodhi wanted to cling to that feeling, even if it scared the shit out of him.
It was the first time in his life Bodhi felt more than a passing motivation to connect to other people who were like him. Part of it was for his own sake, but part of it was that he realized he trusted Caleb.
And if Caleb thought he belonged—with his bad signing and frustratingly slow pace—maybe he did. So when Ravi asked him to go, he had no reason to turn him down.
Of course, the second Bodhi set foot in the bar, he knew it was a mistake. He’d been to a handful of Deaf events. There were a couple at a mall food court, one at a restaurant that had been all-but rented out by their group, and one at a bowling alley full of vape smells where he’d stayed exactly two minutes and forty-five seconds before running back to his dorm and spending the night under his blanket.
This felt like it was going to be no different. The bar was Mardi Gras themed with bright, colorful lights, and beads hanging from the rafters which gave a sort of disco ball effect everyone else seemed to love. It smelled like too many mixtures of perfume and cologne, with hints of raw alcohol and sweat. The music was pulsing through the room, vibrating along the floors and all the walls, and Bodhi started to feel the familiar sensation of overwhelmed panic tickling his spine.
His fight or flight was starting to take over, and like always, flight was winning.
“Stop making that face,” Ravi ordered, bobbing along to the music. Bodhi could barely hear it without his hearing aids—picking up the midrange, melodious rumble of EDM. The sounds didn’t match the bass thrumming through his chest which made him feel off kilter. “Have a drink. Have some fun.”
Bodhi nodded, fighting the urge to scream. Or maybe cry. He wanted to put his hands over his ears and rock because it would at least soothe some of the itch under his skin, but that would make a scene. People would stare at him.
Then Ravi would get mad.
“I don’t like drinking.”
“One won’t kill you,” Ravi answered, rolling his eyes as he urged them closer to the bar.
Bodhi glanced around at the crowd. He wasn’t sure how many of them were Deaf, but hands were flying everywhere at Deaf speed, so he assumed it was most of them. It should have comforted him.
Instead, he was lost in a sea of total chaos.
He had no idea how much time had passed when cool glass touched his knuckles, and he glanced over to see Ravi tapping him with something that looked like Sprite—though he knew better than to assume. Ravi was staring at him pointedly and it took Bodhi a second to realize that his left hand was dancing in the air.
He quickly tucked it into his pocket, circling his right hand over his chest. “Sorry.” He grabbed the drink and took a swallow, trying not to grimace at the overly sweet taste of soda and something peach. The alcohol burn was the least offensive part of it, so he choked it down as fast as he could, which made his brother grin from ear to ear.
“Fuck yeah! Time to party!”
Bodhi felt the edges of dissociation starting to creep up on him, and he took several breaths.Keep it together, he told himself.Do not fall apart. You owe Ravi this.
It was a weird thought. He didn’t know why he’d owe his brother anything, but whenever Ravi looked at him like Bodhi had sucked all the fun out of the room, the guilt was nearly overwhelming. So he could do this. He could let loose for one night.
“The bartender is a CODA,” Ravi signed, giving Bodhi a shove. “You can order your own drink if you want. I’m going to dance.”
And there it was. Ravi had gotten him through the door and one drink down his gullet, so he was no longer obligated to babysit.
Any protests died on Bodhi’s fingers, and he found himself slipping up to the corner of the bar where fewer people were hovering. The bartender was a really tall, imposing guy with light colored hair and a huge grin.
He caught Bodhi’s eye and held up a finger for him to wait as he finished pouring whatever drinks were printed on the white ticket in front of him. When he was done, he set them on the bar and Bodhi could see him signing with a fluidity that he wasn’t sure he’d ever accomplish.
Eventually, the guy made his way over. “What’s up?”
