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As I scrubbed clean the sink, my mind wandered to Shay, how we’d gone back to the same old pattern of being strangers on the bus. I didn’t want that, I realised. I didn’t want us to be strangers. I wanted to know him. Yes, I was attracted to him, but I was also drawn to him as a person. I wanted to know who he was beneath the surface.
And maybe, just maybe, I could work my way up to revealing something of myself, too. I could find the courage to show him a glimmer of my true self and hopefully not be rejected. Staying isolated kept me safe in a way, but it also created a deep yearning for more. For connection.
Perhaps denying yourself something just made you want it so much more in the long run.
At the end of the day, I dropped the keys back to the guard at the security desk and headed for the bus stop, a plan in mind. I was going to sit next to Shay. I was going to put myself out there because, even though I didn’t know if he liked me the same way I liked him, he might at least want to be my friend, and that would be good enough.
There weren’t too many people waiting when I arrived at the bus stop. I made eye contact with Shay as we boarded, allowing him to go ahead. I followed behind and saw the surprise on his face when I stopped by his seat.
“Mind if I sit?” I asked with a nervous smile as he stared up at me with those stunning grey-green eyes. He blinked, then nodded, standing up and offering me the window seat. I slid by him, my shoulder brushing his arm as I sat, and he retook his seat on the aisle. The entire time I sat there, my heart pounded. I felt his eyes on my profile and turned to meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry for how I acted the last time we—”
He shook his head and placed his hand on top of mine as if to say, You don’t need to apologise. I nodded and swallowed thickly as he removed his hand, feeling emotional by his kind acceptance. Perhaps there was no need to feel ashamed of my dyslexia around Shay. I didn’t know how long he’d been mute, but surely, he’d faced prejudice from certain people when they discovered his inability to speak. Not everyone was understanding when it came to being different.
“There’s an adult literacy class at the library in the evenings,” I said, and his eyes remained fixed on me as he quietly listened. “I’ve been meaning to go for a long time, but I’ve never plucked up the courage.”
His eyes gentled, like he understood, and some of the shame evaporated. Okay, Maggie, he’s not rejecting you. Time to keep being honest about yourself.
“I have dyslexia,” I continued, “And I never finished school, so … well, I don’t know how bad it is compared to others or what my reading capabilities might be if I tried to grapple with it instead of ignoring it. Anyway, that’s why I couldn’t read your messages, or well, why I can read them, but it takes me longer. I hope you didn’t think I was being rude. I was just embarrassed. I’m a thirty-one-year-old woman who never learned to read properly.”
Again, he gave me a gentle look that said he wasn’t holding anything against me, and I relaxed further. “I guess this means it’s going to be tough for us to communicate. You, um, you write down what you want to say to people who don’t know sign language?”
He nodded.
I sighed. “Right, that makes things difficult.”
Shay shrugged then stared at me meaningfully, his eyes full of reassurance, as if to say, We’ll figure it out.
My heart pounded in relief because I wanted to get to know him. It felt good to just be up front and honest about myself for a change instead of avoiding people, so I wouldn’t have to reveal things I was self-conscious about.
“Maybe you could teach me some sign language?” I suggested, and he smiled and nodded. I smiled back and tried to not stare at him too much because he was very handsome up close. It was hard to drag my eyes away. I cleared my throat and continued, “Okay, how do I say hello?”
In answer, Shay lifted his hand and gave a thumbs up. I mimicked his movements, and he bobbed his head to let me know I’d done it correctly. “And goodbye?” I went on.
He made a small wave, and again, I mimicked him. “Guess those are pretty self-explanatory, huh? How do I say, how are you today?”
Again, he showed me the hand symbols, though it took me a bit longer to get than the simple hello and goodbye gestures. By the time our journey came to an end, Shay had taught me some basic conversational pieces, but I was eager to learn more. I decided I’d look up some videos of Irish Sign Language when I got home. I wanted to be able to talk with him about more than just the weather or complain the bus was five minutes late again.
