Every String Attached | GirlxGirl

Chapter Nineteen

"So are you going to thank me, or what?"

Feet up on the coffee table, Shawn had been there since sun rise, once again trying to cram the entire American Sign Language into her mind in a handful of hours.

She was fortunate—she had always been such a fast learner. Whether it was a school subject, a sport, or another language, she picked up on things easily.

When she spoke to Chance, she spoke in two languages, again, trying her best to complete a full conversation at top speed. She was clearly improving, and Chance had stopped laughing at her every time she stumbled or couldn't remember a sign.

"After York left you went to bed right away, and I know that she told you what I did for you," Chance continued.

"I went to bed because I'm exhausted," Shawn replied, rubbing her eye with the palm of her hand after she finishing signing.

"You can thank me by telling me how your date with her went—the dinner—because you still haven't told me about it."

Shawn raised her eyebrows as she replied, "It was good."

"Shaaaaaaaawn. Come on, you know I need more than that."

Shaking her head, Shawn stifled her laughter. Seeing Chance desperately wanting to know all of the details of her life was much funnier than it should have been.

"You always kiss on the first date," Chance stated.

"Not this date."

"Really?" Chance gasped—literally gasped, because it was that shocking. "But... You always do. Always."

"Well, this first date wasn't the last date." Shawn stood, lifting her empty bowl that had once contained cereal and walked towards the kitchen. "Besides, York is different. I've said it before, and I'll say it again."

"But why is she so different?" Chance demanded, following Shawn on her heel like a puppy following its owner to food.

Shawn turned, dropping her dishes in the sink and staring directly at Chance. "I don't know why she's different, she just is."

"Is it because she's deaf?"

Shawn's eyes narrowed. "No," she said, turning on the faucet and rinsing the bowl. "It's not. Even if she could hear, she would be different. She makes me feel different."

Chance's shoulders dropped as she sighed, resining. "She is much nicer than most of the girls you usually bring home. Then again, York would probably be pretty nasty if you spent all night with her and then told her that you were never going to call her again."

"Okay... I never actually tell the girls that," Shawn scoffed, as if that was any better.

"Yeah, but they know. They can tell."

Shawn frowned. "I am actually the worst person."

"Correction: you were the worst person."

Shawn laughed dryly, grabbing the cloth and running it over the dishes. "Yeah. York must be some kind of saviour. She's clearly making me a better person."

"She is, though. You actually have, like, ambition now. You get out of bed in the morning. Actually, you don't get out of bed, but you don't sleep, either. You stay up all night learning that hand language—which you're supposed to be doing right now, by the way."

"Hm, let me think, what is the sign for 'go away?'"

"Hey!" Chance snapped.

"Kidding," Shawn smiled, stepping forwards and wrapping her arms around the smaller girl. "Thanks, Chance. You know that I love you."