I was always taught to stay quiet. "Don't be too loud, it'll upset your father," my mother always said. I never talked back. I never played with my toys where he could walk by. I stayed in my room and I read mostly. The classics - Dracula, Frankenstein, Jekyll and Hyde. I read a lot of Stephen King too.
When I got to college, a lot of my lecture halls were based on class participation. I rolled my eyes every time I read it in a syllabus. I don't want to fucking talk, I just want to show you the work. But, I forced myself to add once to every class discussion. And when I noticed the interpreter fucking up my one good spoken point for class, I became my own interpreter.
I was born deaf. The only one in my family. Somehow, my inner ears had suffered in utero and left me profoundly deaf. Still, I was considered an oral success. I simply taught myself at home with books, videos, mirrors, until I could say "cat", "book" and "dictionary" as clear as fucking day. But I still signed even though I had to speak. Because when you speak without sign, especially as an oral success, people assume you can hear them and make jackasses of themselves.
So, when I signed up for a domestic violence research class for a criminal justice major, I decided to hire an interpreter so when I inevitably shared my own experiences with domestic violence, I could do it with a clear mind and not one distracted by interpreting for myself. And even though I paid out of my pocket to hire one, I made sure I went to the top agency full of professionals.
The first day of class, I walked in somewhat early, even for an 8 a.m. class. I didn't wear makeup and bother too much with my hair, so I looked rather plain in some ways. I am petite, in every sense of the word. Even my nose was small, button-like. But I had full lips and big blue eyes like my Greek mother and that was the only thing un-petite of me. My long brown hair was a full head but didn't overwhelm my size, even so being down past my shoulders. My chest was a 34 B cup, and my butt while full was not huge. I had freckles that I magnified with big black reading glasses.
Being as it I was much earlier for class than scheduled, the only other person in the room was a mid 30s tall white and handsome mountain of a man. The only guess I had that this handsome giant taught the class was he was dressed in a plaid shirt and khaki pants. He had tattoos everywhere, but surprisingly it wasn't repulsive. It was quite tasteful. He had close buzzed dark brown hair and deep teal blue eyes. He looked up from his desk when I walked in and flashed a pretty white smile. Standing up, I guessed he was probably 6'4", well above my tiny statute of 5'. I bit my lip anxiously as he stepped around his desk and held out his hand. "Wow you're early. But I'm always glad to see an eager student. I'm Dean, or Professor K if you prefer."
I smiled and thought briefly about how he was a lip reader's dream. I snapped back into the moment and stuttered "Uh... I'm Calliope." Pausing a moment as I know he heard my speech, as I still carried the slightest accent, even though he appeared unfazed by it. "I'm deaf." It sounded almost like an apology and I hated that. But he just shook my hand again and then released it slowly, never losing that stunning smile.
"Calliope. That's a beautiful name." His facial expression so appreciative of the uncommon name, it made me blush. What he was doing with his hands caught me pleasantly off guard. He signed what he was saying. I stood there in shock. I thought all the professors here were just intellectual snobs ready to belittle deafness at the drop of a hat. He was actually speaking my language.
I must have been speechless long enough because he looked like he chuckled a bit and spoke again, his hand still moving in the most eloquent ways. "My brother is deaf." I again snapped back to reality and could only blush more deeply, politely smiling again as I strode away from his desk. I noticed the wedding ring on his finger. I'd gotten myself into that trouble before. Sure, he was fantastically handsome, exactly my type, and could speak my language. But I needed to be keeping myself out of trouble now.
I slid into a desk at the edge of the front row and glanced back briefly to see him pulling a sheet of paper from his desk and strolling toward me. His lips were pursed and he was swaying ever so slightly- whistling. He laid the piece of paper on my desk and made sure I was looking at him before he started speaking and signing.
"These are the notes from my lecture. They're not verbatim, but they're very detailed and are there if I have to have my back turned to you. Now that I know there's a cute deaf girl in my class, I'll try to make sure I'm facing you as much as possible." He flashed that killer smile and I melted again inside, nodding and signing thank you, speaking it in a hushed tone. He stood and nodded back, and there was the slightest lip bite when he looked down at me before he walked back to his desk and other students began filing in.
