Page 46 of Deafened By Silence
Vikki’s voice filters through my hearing loop even though she is already leading the class toward the back of the lab. “And over here, a group of our scientists are working on creating compounds to tackle antibiotic-resistant viruses such as pneumonia and bloodstream infections.”
Her voice keeps me tethered while I investigate on my own. On the opposite side of the room, a cluster of men are hunched over a raised table, the edges of a blueprint spread wide between them. Curiosity tugs me closer. One of them, with short brown hair and freckles scattered across his nose, notices me and waves me over. His lips shape words I can catch.
“Hey, want to take a look?” I nod and they part to let me in. The blueprint is a design for a microscope, but it is stripped back, almost primitive compared to the sleek instruments I have seen. Confused, I wonder why they are wasting their time. “We’ve simplified the stereoscopic microscope so we can sell the parts and plans to local universities. They can build it themselves for a fraction of the cost.”
He beams, his smile full of straight white teeth and I return it as if that didn’t worsen my headache to lipread. Beginning to gush about the brilliance of the idea, a harsh grip clamps around my arm and drags me backwards. My vision fills with Rhys’ pale blue eyes, fury swirling within.
“The entire class moved on without you. Don’t fall behind.”
Every scientist’s head turns at the sudden interruption, finding me being manhandled by a guy who thought wearing a Louis Vuitton tracksuit to a lab would impress anyone. Heat floods my cheeks and embarrassment burns into anger. My hand finds the collar of his shirt and I yank him down to whisper in Rhys’ ear.
“When I want your hands on me, you’ll know about it.” I shove him back, ignoring the flare of desire in his eyes, and stride toward the rest of the group. Clay reaches a hand out as I pass, his eyes narrowed on Rhys, but I raise my middle finger and keep walking. I don’t need saving today. I need it to be lunchtime. Peterson frowns as I fall into step beside him, but I keep my face forward.
The next room is dedicated to radiochemical analysis. This time we are kept behind a barrier, only able to watch the scientist’s through reinforced glass. Their movements are methodical, their focus unshakable. I cling to Vikki’s words but my body betrays me, every nerve alert to the weight of a masculine presence hovering on the edges of vision. They’re both close, pressing in but not disturbing. I hate my body for responding, the fine hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, but I don’t let it show.
We file out of the room in silence, respectful distances being kept. I pretend not to notice how they bump shoulders trying to follow me into the elevator, not expecting them to be on their best behavior all of the time. Something has to give.
The top floor opens into a food hall, the sterile gleam replaced by the comforting smell of coffee and freshly baked bread. A section has been cordoned off for our group with a long table piled with sandwiches and cakes.
I barely register Rhys dropping in beside me, my focus on disconnecting the hearing loop and letting the room blur intothe background. Clay is quickly trapped in conversation with the redhead again, much to his irritation but at least he’s sitting opposite me. Stacking a plate high with sandwiches and pastries, building a small fortress of carbs, an inked hand pushes a coffee cup in front of me.
“Shhhh,” Rhys says, pushing another sandwich into my mouth. “Talk to me when you’re not hangry.”I scrunch my features up at him but keep eating, one rough tear of teeth on bread at a time. Drawing my attention across the table, I latch onto parts of Clayton’s conversation, struggling to keep up with the clench of his jaw.
“Get - fuck - from me.”
“But…we made a deal,”the redhead replies, appearing to be on the verge of tears.“You promised – we’re friends - didn’t speak.”
“- deal wasn’t - leave me in - gay porno.”
Wait, that can’t be right. I must be way off my game. Shaking my head, I spot Rhys stifling a laugh into a cinnamon roll, licking the icing from his lip ring. My gaze lingers for a beat too long and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Beneath the table, Clay’s foot tangles with mine, breaking the spell in the most Clayton way possible. Gentle yet meaningful. What is it with these men mind-fucking me today.
Lunch finishes in a blur, two coffees in my system and a small food baby in my gut. Peterson clears away his trash and rounds us all up for the next part of the tour. I switch the hearing loop back on in time to hear Clayton talking to Vikki off to one side. I don’t want to make it obvious, even though I should know better than to eavesdrop.
“-really quite brilliant,” Clay says. “I would keep her name on file if I were you.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Vikki replies before taking the lead ahead of the group. I blink a few times, unable to clear my face of the surprise when Clay approaches.
“Everything okay?”he raises a brow. I bite my bottom lip.
“Yeah, yes. Ahh, sorry about earlier. I didn’t sleep well.” It’s a weak excuse but it’s all I’ve got. I can’t come out and say he’s half of the duo making me so crazy. Clay smiles as he falls into step.
“I get it. I rarely get a full night these days. Next time, drop me a message. Chances are I’m already awake.”
Opening my mouth to respond that I might just do that, Rhys cuts in front of us and I nearly run straight into his chest. “Or, next time you have trouble sleeping, you can wander over to mine and I can tire you out.”A snort escapes me and I push him aside.
“Ahh, but that would go against your one night only rule.” Moving on, we reconvene with the others on the third floor, entering a room that mirrors the lab back at school. Well, the lab before I blew it up. But I’m sure after the renovations are finished, it will be just as…clinical.
“Time for an experiment,” Vikki announces to us from behind a bench pre-set with perfectly arranged equipment. “What do you think would happen if we combined sugar and sulphuric acid?”
A few guesses fly around and more than a few snickers sound when it’s suggested that ‘the deaf girl’ can make anything explode. I’m not too sure where it comes from, but my trusty meerkats sit upright at the comment, glaring in the general direction. I don’t care either way, raising my hand high in the air.
“The carbon would cause the mixture to blacken and expand.”
Vikki smiles at me, seemingly pleased. “Exactly. Now, who would like to come up and try?”
The demonstration begins with Millie tipping sugar into the beaker already sitting inside the fume hood. The liquid darkens, shifts to brown, then black. The mixture bubbles into a grotesque sponge that claws its way above the rim. Next, she adds hydrated copper sulphate, tipping it in carefully and as the mass retracts, the liquid blanching to white.
Steam hisses when Vikki flicks water onto the glass, and whilst more jokes are cracked about ducking for cover, I pull out my phone. Something in the way Peterson is leaning forward, his eyes keen and watchful, tells me that this experiment might make an appearance in an upcoming pop quiz. Even after the class begins drifting toward the exit, I circle back, snapping photos of the leftover solutions. Five stars to Harper for finally committing herself to her studies.
