disconnected || calum hood

7 | Elizabeth

I had a sign name, and everyone refused to tell me what it meant. It was the most frustrating thing ever. Even though I was slowly learning more and more sign language every day, I had zero clues about what my sign name meant.

Every time I asked Calum, he just flipped me off, and when I asked his friends, they just laughed. It wasn't even Calum who created the sign name; it was Ashton.

From what I gathered by staring at the movements of their hands, it wasn't just one word; it seemed to consist of two.

The first sign involved bringing your thumb and your index finger to your nose, pressing them together, and then pointing them downwards. It resembled the sign for a bird, but I couldn't comprehend why they would point their fingers downward toward the ground.

The second sign was just a mess, I could hardly describe it. It looked like a C, but then you'd put two fingers up in the air, turn them around, making a fist before going back to putting two fingers up in the air.

It didn't seem fair that everyone else knew the meaning of their sign names while I was left in the dark. Michael claimed it was just a way to mess with me and encourage me to learn sign language. I was making an effort, but like learning any other language, I couldn't become fluent overnight. At that point, I had a decent grasp of the alphabet and had learned some basic words, but I hadn't even begun constructing sentences.

Calum had expressed his appreciation for my efforts to learn sign language, and our communication was improving every day. We were growing closer, and I was confident that we were now friends. Where a few weeks ago I wasn't sure if he would ever be my friend, I was now sure that we were friends.

I got invited to hang with his friends and I absolutely loved Michael's girlfriend, Crystal. She was incredibly pretty and really, really kind.

Despite feeling welcome among this group of friends, there was always a secretive aspect that they kept from me. Ashton and Michael would frequently switch to sign language when they were around, and I was left in the dark about their conversations. It was frustrating not being able to understand what they were saying.

Of course, everyone is entitled to their secrets, but it was a bit strange. They often discussed this Luke guy, whom I had yet to meet in person, or they would leave Calum visibly frustrated based on his facial expressions after their conversations.

Whatever.

I was spending my Wednesday night at home, working on my essays when Calum walked in the living room, throwing his duffle bag on the ground.

"Hey," I said when I saw him, and he jumped in surprise, clearly not expecting me to be home. He turned around, and I immediately noticed the dirty cloth pressed against his lip. I squinted my eyes until I realized it wasn't dirt; it was blood.

"Jesus, Cal," I said, jumping up from the couch once I put my laptop aside and walked over to him. "What happened?"

I raised my hand to his face, carefully removing his hand to reveal a busted lip that was still bleeding and some bruising around it. He sighed, quickly putting the cloth back on. I shook my head. "You gotta clean it, come here," I said, walking over to the kitchen and grabbing the first aid kit hidden in one of the cupboards.

After grabbing a clean cloth, I turned back around to face Calum. "Okay, remove that dirty one, please," I said and he nodded, carefully removing it from his mouth. I put the clean one over it, applying pressure to stop the bleeding before I was going to clean it out.

"Okay, put pressure on it 'til I say so," I said, and he gave me a small nod before taking over. I turned around and decided to sit on the kitchen counter. Calum was too tall for me to get a good view of the wound, so I needed to get a little higher up.