Silence by Deborah Lytton

But when I read his lips, the words are smooth and easy. Slow.
    The meaning of his words dawns on me, and a delicious joy curves my lips into a smile.
    I marvel again at how easily I understand him, when I cannot understand anyone else. Even Emerson.
    I pull my eyes away from him and look out at the rolling water. A whole world is out there. A world that knows nothing about Stella Layne. The thought makes me feel free. Hopeful. Grateful.
    We sit there, side by side. After a time, I steal a glance at Hayden. He looks out at the waves. His skin shines like gold, and his lion’s mane is tousled by the ocean breeze. He is smiling the half-smile that makes him look shy and approachable. I want to know everything about him. Where he got the scar along his chin. If anyone else in his family has eyes the color of jewels. And more than anything, I want to know why he is helping me like this.
    Suddenly, Hayden turns his head and looks at me. And that’s when I see it—something in his eyes. Something so painful. It’s like I can see into his soul. And what I see there is so tragic that I forget about my own problems and reach out to him. I don’t think. Just touch him.
    It is a simple gesture; my hand rests on his arm just above the woven bracelet. But in that movement, in that touch, something happens. Something so profound that it extends beyond this moment. Beyond this day. The moment passes as quickly as one breath, but the world has shifted. And I understand something I have only partially grasped until now. That somehow, Hayden and I are linked. I can tell from the look in his eyes that he feels it too. Words aren’t necessary. Hearing isn’t necessary.
    Suddenly, a mischievous smile flits across Hayden’s face. He stands and runs toward the waves. I push myself to my feet and follow. Hayden is knee deep, waiting for me. The water is so cold it stings my toes, makes them feel numb.
    Instantly, memories collide in my mind. The water of the pool, me drifting down, not breathing. I stumble backwards, away from the pain. Hayden moves toward me, his expression etched with understanding. Looking at him brings me back to the present. Hayden stands with me. On the edge of the water.
    I let the waves lap my toes. I get used to the temperature, used to the feeling. Then Hayden kicks some water toward me. I smile and splash him back. Within moments, we are playing like little kids. Splashing in the ocean. And for those moments, I completely forget about everything.
    When we come out of the water, Hayden tosses me a towel. I dry off. Then he offers me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple. Surprisingly, I am starving.
    “Is this you saving me?” I ask. I am trying to tease him, but I don’t know if my voice has the right inflection. I imagine that it does. I watch for his reaction, suddenly wishing I hadn’t tried to say something that needed inflection to make sense.
    But Hayden grins. He seems to understand that it is a joke. His hair curls at the ends where it is wet. I resist the urge to touch it. “It’s a beginning.”
    He winks at me, and my stomach does another flip-flop. I should be getting used to them by now. I find myself studying the skin of the red apple in my hand. Where the red fades to pink. I touch the stem. Think of the game Emerson and I used to play: Twirl the stem and recite the letters of the alphabet. On the letter the stem releases, that will be the letter of your true love. I spin the stem around and around and think the letters to myself. A-B-C-D-E-F-G. On the eighth twist, the stem comes off. H.
    Hayden touches my shoulder briefly, and I turn sheepishly to meet his eyes. “Tell me,” he says. When he speaks to me, I can read his lips as clearly as if I could hear.
    And that’s when it pours out of me. All of it. I tell Hayden everything. What’s wrong with me, and how I don’t know if I will ever hear again. How I pretended with Lily so she wouldn’t feel guilty. My dad not even