Page 56 of Kiss-Fist
But I have to take the risk. I like him too much.
‘Thanks,’ I sign, then walk to the table and grab my backpack. He nods at me, and I don’t wait for a long goodbye. Instead, I dart out the door and head through the heavy wind toward the building I know Robbie will be inside. I know I said I wouldn’t bother him at work, but I really need to do this. I can’t keep putting it off. All I can do is pray that he gives me a chance to explain.
That he forgives me for making this assumption.
And that maybe he’ll say yes.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THOM
The skies openup just as I yank on the door to the humanities building. I make it inside with a few rivers of rain dripping through my hair, but I wipe them away and glance around the lobby.
The downstairs area is the learning center. There’s a large banner behind a table that has a signup sheet for students and tutors. To the left are stairs, to the right the elevators, and beside it, there’s a small tactile map with print and braille listing out the professors and their offices.
Some of them don’t have names, but I see Robbie’s almost immediately.
Room 206.
I contemplate the elevator. It’ll take longer, but in truth, I’d like to get my heart pumping for a reason unrelated to my nerves, so I opt for the stairs. It’ll give me something to focus on instead of standing in the elevator watching thefloors change.
Taking them two at a time, I reach the landing, which resembles a library. Tall bookshelves line the walls, and a few plants sit on the top shelf that desperately need watering. In the center is a desk that’s currently unoccupied, and to the right of that, a door that leads to staff offices.
I’m not sure if I’m supposed to make an appointment, but there’s no one here to stop me, so I turn the handle, and it opens. The hallway looks like my pediatrician’s office from when I was a kid. Kind of smells like it too—old carpet and fresh paint.
I count the doors until I get to 204. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. Robbie’s is next. I can see the door is almost all the way open, and as I get closer, I hear signing sounds. Little pops and fizzes of breath and voice, the sounds of hands gently slapping.
I hesitate, and then I hear Robbie laugh, and my whole body aches for him. Christ, I am so, so gone for this guy.
It is a serious problem.
But at least there’s a solution.
Steeling my spine, I walk to the door and peer in. Robbie’s at his desk, kicked back, signing lazily in front of him. The guy in front of him has his back to me. He’s very tall and broad, brown skin and dark short hair set in a natural wave. When he turns slightly, I catch the edge of a beard.
Shit, he’s hot.
Dear god, please tell me this isn’t one of Robbie’s former hookups.
A beat passes, then Robbie’s gaze shifts, and his smile falters along with his hands. The silence in the room is thick.The guy in front of him turns slowly, sizes me up, then looks back at Robbie.
Realization clearly dawns on him, and he smirks at Robbie, whose ears go pink.
Does that mean he’s told people about me?
I give a sheepish little wave, then press my fist to my chest in a circle. ‘Sorry.’
He quickly signs, ‘Wait,’ then turns to his friend and signs something very fast before standing up and makes a gesture between me and him. ‘FAYID,’ he spells slowly, then adds, ‘Art teacher.’
Fayid’s smirk turns into a smile, and he offers me his hand. We shake, and then I tentatively spell my own name, and I think I got it right until Robbie waves his hand and corrects me at a speed I doubt I’ll ever be able to follow when it comes to letters.
“Thom,” Fayid says aloud, except it’s not right. He pronounces the TH like in the word “thistle.”
I shake my head and sign, ‘Like TOM.’
Fayid rolls his eyes and signs something with the wordshearing peoplethat makes Robbie laugh. I blush, but I realize I don’t mind that much if they’re making fun of me. Fayid claps me on the shoulder, then signs, ‘Nice to meet you,’ before turning back to Robbie, adding one last thing, and letting himself out.
I’m only just on the inside of the door, so I practically feel it when the latch clicks. I swear I’m about to swallow my own tongue.
