Barrett
What a freaking night. First, I have to deal with my drunk dad blowing our rent, then I have to race an idiot who could have gotten me killed if I wasn’t so aware of my surroundings. Now I’m running from the freaking cops with some strange girl. How the hell did I end up with this odd stowaway in the first place? I wonder as I look over at her—she seems to be opening and closing her mouth like a guppy. I can’t hide my grin. It happens a lot with hearing people. They’ve never learned to just accept silence. They always feel the need to speak and break it. Silence is comfortable to me, and I rather enjoy watching her squirm a bit, so I just take a deep breath and relax. She smells like lemon. Not like Pine-Sol lemon, but something sweeter. Not a usual smell for most girls, but I’m quickly learning this girl is anything but usual.
Once I’m sure we’ve missed all the action, I drive back toward town. I sure hope she doesn’t think she’s coming home with me, because that is not freaking happening. No way. Not that my dad would care, he’ll be passed out by now anyway, but I refuse to subject anyone to the hot mess that I call home, even an odd girl that jumps into cars with strangers. Then a thought hits me and I give her a quick once over. She doesn’t look like the usual groupies that hang out at the races. She isn’t showing any skin, in fact, she’s the classiest girl I think I’ve ever seen. Even though she’s trying to down play it with a band t-shirt, her jeans and boots are expensive, so I’d say she definitely has money. I see a McDonalds up ahead and I pull in, park, and turn on my dome light and face the girl. It’s actually the first time I’ve gotten a good look at her. She has dark hair that falls in layers and is slightly curled at the end. She turns expectant grey blue eyes on me and something in me melts a bit. She isn’t the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Her features are soft, not fierce and striking. She has soft freckles that kiss her skin and a nose that’s almost too small for her face, but there is almost something endearing about her.
“Who you?”
“Oh sorry. I’m P R E S L E Y,” she fingerspells. What an odd name for a girl…then again, she seems like a rather odd girl, so like her scent, it seems to fit.
“B A R R E T T. Nice meet you,” I sign back, because my mother taught me to be a gentleman, after all. “Happened what? Why you come car me? Okay you?”
“Whoa. Okay, slow down, Mr. I’m still learning here.” “Slow please. Sign little me.” I internally scold myself for assuming she was fluent. Just because she signed to me earlier doesn’t mean she signs all the time.
“Sorry.” I sign much slower and add a smile. “Happened?” I ask, pointing to her and then my car.
“Cops were coming. You can’t hear, so I not want you to get…um… S T U C K.” Well, that was nice of her. I show her the sign for stuck and she repeats it, smiling her thanks.
“I know little sign, so I thought I could help W A R N you.” I show her the sign for warn, and she doesn’t seem to get offended that I’m correcting her like a lot of people do.
“Why you care me?” She blushes a bit at this question.
“My friend wanted to leave before the cops showed up but I wanted to warn you so she left and well…I thought since I S A V E D you, I hoped you’d save me back. And you did, so thanks.” Wow, I can’t tell if she’s nervous or if she just naturally would have butchered that sentence, but I think I can piece together what she’s saying. She signs every few words in between voicing and finger spelling the ones she doesn’t know. This conversation is going to take much longer than I’d like.
“Thank you tell me. Appreciate.” Although I think saving might be taking it a bit far, I did appreciate the heads up.
“You W E L C O M E.” I show her how to sign welcome.
“Don’t need sign you. Welcome only fine.” She just signs welcome and then smiles her thanks.
“I’ll just call my friend and tell her to pick me up. You can go now.” She opens her door and starts to get out when I stop her by grabbing her arm.
“Fine. I drive you. You help me. I help you.” I add a smile even though the last thing I want to do is go anywhere but home to bed.
“Sure?”
“Yes. Where?”
“U O P,” she fingerspells, and luckily, I know right where that is. I’m not surprised she’s in college. A lot of the students spend their time at the street races. She just doesn’t seem like the type to go. I turn off my dome light and drive toward the school in silence. It doesn’t take long, and as I’m looking for a spot, she taps my shoulder and I turn the light on again.
“I’m fine here. I can get out.” My mom would roll over in her grave if she knew I didn’t walk her to her door, especially in Stockton at night, but the girl keeps shaking her head.
“Really, I’ll be fine. There’s no P A R K I N G anyway.” She points to all the cars showing there is no spot for me. “Seriously, don’t worry about me. I have my cell phone.” She holds up her phone. “And a rape whistle. How the heck do you sign um…R A P E um…” She gives up and holds the small silver whistle in her hand. I can’t help but laugh at this strange girl. What the hell is a rape whistle? I don’t bother to hide my thoughts and she instantly turns beet red but looks over at me defiantly. “It’s for safety.”
“Tiny whistle keep safe you?” I ask, not hiding my laughter.
“Well, no, but if…” She catches herself when she sees I’m joking.
“Phone you?” I sign and she holds up her cell phone. I take it from her, causing her to jump a bit, and I just smile as I put my number in.
“Text me safe you.”
“That’s very S W E E T of you. Yes, I will.” I show her the sign for sweet, then quickly sign “Nice meet you.” Since I’m double parked, I’m hoping to speed this up.
“Nice meet you.” She gets out of the car and takes off when I honk my horn to get her attention. I lean over and pick up the whistle she dropped on the passenger seat. I hold it up for her and I can see the embarrassment flood her face once more.
“Forget not. Fault me if rape no whistle you.” She rolls her eyes but takes the whistle and walks briskly toward the dorms. I can’t help but smile as I think about the last half hour and odd turn of events. I remember the wad of cash in my pocket and I smile again. This time from relief. We won’t get kicked out after all. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I wait for a red light to pull it out and look down at the text.
Unknown: I made it home with my virtue intact. Thank you for the ride, it was nice to meet you, Barrett. Congratulations on the race. *Presley
I smile at her text but hate writing or texting people I don’t know very well. I know my English isn’t perfect so I try to stick to the shortest version of conversations I can.
Barrett: TY. Goodnight.☺