Chapter 6: First Loves and Last Chances

6

Caleb can always easily ignite my emotions. But clearly, we weren’t always so full of conflict and opposition.

Caleb was a scholarship kid in the Honors Program, and all tuition and grants for the Honors Program were funded by the Whitman Group. And Caleb was special in the Honors Program—special because he was hearing-impaired. Scholarship kid, hearing-impaired, top of the class—these words attracted a swarm of local press to promote the school.

The first time we met, the hallway smelled like gym socks and cafeteria pizza, lockers slamming as kids rushed to seventh period. A crowd of reporters was interviewing Caleb about receiving financial aid. A sharp-eyed reporter spotted me, almost pressed against the wall.

“Caleb, your classmate Natalie Whitman behind you is the daughter of your sponsor. Is it awkward to interact daily?”

Help!

Caleb didn’t know me at all. But Caleb smiled and asked everyone to step back, pulling me out of the crowd to safety. “Natalie is very nice, always friendly with classmates.”

After the awkward interview, as we walked back to the classroom building, Caleb brushed past me as he returned to his class. I noticed something different in his ear.

“As long as you wear this, you can hear?” I asked, curious.

Caleb turned around. Only then did I realize I’d blurted out something rude. But Caleb looked back at me with a half-smile and replied offhandedly, “I have another ear that can hear.”

If the Natalie of ten years later were here, she’d definitely miss the high school Caleb. Back then, Caleb wasn’t so silent. But standing here was seventeen-year-old Natalie. This unexpected answer struck her heart.

I started wanting to be friends with Caleb, so I took the initiative to talk to him. Caleb was good at studying, so I used the excuse of asking him to tutor me to go to his class every day. I even sat in on their classes.

During group English conversation practice, Caleb said his favorite fruit was apple. So that Christmas, every desk in Caleb’s class was filled with red apples. From then on, the whole Honors Program knew me. Only Caleb knew his was different. He received a unique greeting card, which was my shining moment of wit and affection. The card read: “You are the apple of my eye.”

Although Caleb didn’t respond, I could feel his hard heart softening toward me.

Once after school, I dragged Caleb to a coffee shop to share my favorite drink. Sitting face to face, I kept hemming and hawing, wanting to say something. Caleb saw I was struggling and sighed, “Go ahead, what do you want to ask?”

I grinned, stirring my iced coffee with a straw. “Just so you know, I’m only curious, just curious…”

“I looked online and saw that not all people with hearing loss are totally deaf. What about you?”

Caleb smiled gently. “Mm, that’s right. Only if a sound is very, very loud and right by my ear can I hear a little.”

“Can you take it out?” I asked him.

Caleb had been very cooperative lately, so he took it out. I leaned close to his ear and spoke a little louder than usual: “How about now?”

Caleb didn’t react at all. So much so that I forgot his left ear could hear. I shouted in his ear: “I like you!”

Now not only did Caleb know. The whole world knew. My cheeks burned red as everyone in Starbucks turned to stare, some grinning, some rolling their eyes, the barista giving me a thumbs-up behind the counter.