Page 41 of Ordinary Secrets

After he signs back and forth with the boy for a moment, he turns to the bullies with a grimace. “Get outta here.”

“Look, dude, you don’t understa?—”

“Go!”

It doesn’t take more than a second for the teenagers to realize that they don’t have a choice. Their shoes stomp against thepavement as they dash off. Trey’s gaze follows them until his eyes land on me. His expression turns stony. I wish I would have stayed at the restaurant, if only to have avoided that look.

The Deaf boy plucks the lid off a garbage can and chucks it. It clanks to the ground with an echo. After some digging, he wrestles out a backpack from the trash, pats it off, then throws a strap over his shoulder.

Turning to Trey, he signs something. I don’t know anything more than the ASL alphabet and baby signs from working at the daycare. All I catch is the boy saying thank you. The rest is lost on me.

As I approach Trey’s side, he gestures at me and signs my name in letters. He does it so fast, I barely catch that it was my name.

“Arella, this is...” Trey pauses and signs as he says, “Sorry, what’s your name?”

The boy moves his fingers so fast, I can’t understand.

“Lucas,” Trey says.

I wave. “Hi, Lucas.”

The boy waves back and signs to me.

“Nice to meet you,” Trey interprets. “You have a beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” I say and sign.

Trey turns to the boy as he signs, “Don’t allow those boys to haze you anymore. It’s not worth it, okay? Do you need a ride home?”

With a shake of his head and another thank-you, Lucas limps out of the alley.

Once he’s gone, Trey shoves his hands into his pockets. “You ready to go, babe?”

My insides dance at the sound of him calling mebabe. I used to cringe whenever my ex called me that. He only used pet names when he wanted something. Or when we were aroundother men. Or when he was apologizing for the night before. Hearing Trey call mebabedoesn’t elicit that fight-or-flight reaction from my core. I actually like the sound of it.

As we speed back to LA, Trey talks my ear off about everything except what just happened. This entire evening, he’s been asking me buttloads of questions about me and barely talked about himself unless I asked a question first. Now that he’s suddenly openly sharing, it makes me think he’s filling the silence just to ensure I don’t have a chance to ask him about Lucas.

I’m barely paying attention to his words. My mind is reeling about how he knew a teenage boy was getting beat up in an alley—from the restaurant.

“How do you know sign language?” I ask, interjecting into whatever story he’s telling me about a time he used to live in Georgia. Or maybe it was Oregon.

Trey clears his throat. “Uh, Elliott, the kid I used to mentor... He was Deaf. I took private lessons so I could communicate with him.”

“How did you know Lucas was in trouble?”

His fingers curl tighter around the steering wheel as he swallows. “I thought I asked you to stay at the restaurant.”

“Sorry, I didn’t listen.”

He scoffs loudly. “I see that. I asked you to stay because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I didn’t.”

“That’s not the point.” He breathes out, all exasperated. “Can we just forget that ever happened?”

Moments like these with my ex always turned into fights, until eventually, my choices were to keep quiet or get smacked. I really don’t want to fight with Trey. I don’t think he’d hit me, but I miss the lighthearted conversations we’ve been having all night.

Playfully, I lower my voice to a whisper. “You can just admit that you’re Superman. I can keep a secret.”

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