Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 111775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
The next few days went by, and we sat together every day on the bus. It felt exhilarating to have a new friend. It surprised me how something as small as having a connection with another human being could brighten up my world. Every morning when I woke up, I looked forward to seeing him, to figuring out a way to communicate with him given the limited tools at our disposal.
I managed to fumble my way through some simple greetings in sign language. It was frustrating because I wanted to have a full conversation, but the barrier was always there, preventing us. It made me think about how everyday life must be for him. He worked as a security guard in a hotel, and although it wasn’t a job that required a whole lot of talking, I knew it had to be difficult trying to interact with his coworkers, as well as the hotel guests, when the need arose. Was he always paired with someone else who could do the talking? Did he feel separate in a city full of people who probably never seemed to shut up?
I was just glad he’d decided to let me in. I no longer felt so alone in my life, and all because I sat next to a silent man each day on the way to and from work. We were just two people sharing journeys. Nothing complicated, just company, yet it was the most exciting thing that had happened to me in years.
I managed to get through my weekly shift at Mrs Reynolds’ house without bumping into her, which was always a relief. Then it was Friday, and Marco gave me some leftover cupcakes he’d made for the Connollys to take home with me. I readily took them and walked to the bus stop with a swing in my step. I had the cupcakes in a lunch box in my tote bag when I spotted Shay was already there waiting. I smiled. Seeing him had quickly become not just the most exciting part of my day but also my favourite part.
Hi, I signed at him. I could’ve easily just said hello, but I was trying to become more confident with this form of communication. Often, I felt silly, like I wasn’t doing it right, but Shay was patient. He was a good teacher.
Hi, he signed back, and I went to stand next to him. As usual on a Friday, there were lots of other people waiting, and it was raining, so we were all huddled under the shelter. I stood much closer to Shay than I normally did and caught a whiff of his cologne. My stomach erupted into butterflies when I glanced up and found him gazing at my profile. Shyly, I turned away, but his closeness created an electricity that was hard to ignore. More people arrived, and his hand went to my hip to steady me as I stepped back. My shoulders met his chest, and I looked at him again. His expression was intense, and my throat went dry.
I inhaled sharply, about to say something, I wasn’t sure what, when the bus arrived, and people began clambering on. I turned and felt Shay’s warmth close behind me when I climbed aboard and took a seat. When he slid in next to me, just as he’d done all week, his thigh pressed against mine, which was something he hadn’t done before.
I was full of flutters and tried to distract myself by pulling out the box of cupcakes. Shay eyed them with interest.
“Want one?” I asked. “Marco, the chef who works for the Connollys—that’s the family I clean for on Fridays—he gave them to me. He always makes my lunches, and he’s the best cook I know. Here, try one.”
Shay glanced at the box again, but now he was frowning as he shook his head. Confused, I returned the cupcakes to my tote bag and wondered why he suddenly looked annoyed. Was it because of my mentioning Marco? There’d been a fondness in my voice Shay might’ve misinterpreted.
“Marco’s not …” I trailed off, feeling self-conscious before finally finishing, “He’s just someone I work with.”
Shay’s eyes met mine, wide and curious, before he nodded and looked away. I chewed my lip, wondering if I’d made things awkward by clarifying. Maybe he frowned because he didn’t eat sugar or because he was gluten intolerant. I felt like a fool for just assuming his frown was down to me mentioning another man.
We didn’t speak for a while, and there was a new intensity between us. I sensed he wanted to say something, but he didn’t do anything until we were just a few minutes away from our stop. His hand touched the top of mine, which was something he often did when he wanted my attention. Every time he did it, I had to ignore the zip of awareness that shot through me at his touch.