Free Whisper by Chrissie Keighery

for Erica.
    K for Keisha. I wonder if Keisha found a dress like the one she wanted.
    I could text them. I could find out what they’re doing today. But I haven’t known them long. I don’t want them to think I’m a desperate loner.
    So I spend the whole afternoon studying. Five hours.
    And I realise I’m looking forward to going to school tomorrow.
    That’s how tragic my life has become.

chapter 11
    Keisha and Erica wave me over to sit with them in home group. But I still need to be by the door. It’s nice that they slide their books along the table and join me.
    â€˜We didn’t find anything at Northfield,’ Erica signs.
    I flinch at the mention of that place. But I remember to breathe. I keep it together.
    â€˜But then we went into town and found two dresses.A red one and a blue one that matches Luke’s eyes,’ she stirs.She uses Luke’s deaf name, and I know it well by now. It’s the footy sign and mouthing ‘Luke’.
    She’s in the middle of the sign when Keisha slaps her hands. I smile, but it also reminds me of Nadia, of how we used to be. She was a slapper. I can still almost feel the metal of her signet ring on my arm as she backhanded me for some comment I’d made. After I went deaf she stopped doing it, as though I was too fragile. It’s a weird thing to miss.
    â€˜The dresses were only twenty dollars each,’ Keisha continues, post slap.
    â€˜So we had ten dollars left over …’ ‘
    For KFC.’
    They finish each other’s sentences too. It sometimes used to annoy me when Nadia did that. It would seem like a gift now.
    Helena arrives. Today she is wearing long lace-up boots, and her dance routine is thumpier than it was in the ballet flats. She hands out a permission form for an excursion to the careers expo, and then goes back to the whiteboard to write down extra details. When she’s finished, she unrolls a poster and tacks it to the wall.
    I recognise the poster from my old school. It was stuck up in the year eleven and twelve common room, above the sandwich press. There are photos of students chatting to people at booths set up by different unis and organisations.I wonder how we’re going to get the information. I wonder whether we will take along an interpreter, or whether the expo will provide one for us. Or whether we’ll be expected to go it alone.
    The biggest booth pictured is for the University of Melbourne. It’s where I want to go. I focus on it and I’m trying to be positive but the doubts keep seeping in.It’s as though that stupid Maggie woman from Harry’s party is inside my head. Oh really? How very brave.
    It takes a lot of effort to get her out of my head. To keep my old dream alive. There might be someone there who will tell me that of course I can do it. Someone other than my family who can believe in me, who can help me to believe in myself.
    I’m staring at the poster as though it will give me the answers. It takes me a moment to realise that Keisha and Erica are out of their seats, pushing past me to get to the door. Everyone else in the room is looking over at the door too.
    I turn to see what’s going on. Keisha and Erica are hugging someone, and the someone is eclipsed by them. When they finally step aside, I see the hug-ee.
    Her hair is white blonde with dark roots. It’s spiky at the top, and then snakes into a long plait. It must be a hair extension, because the plait doesn’t quite match the texture of the hair at the top. But it definitely looks like it’s been designed that way. Nothing about this girl looks accidental.
    She is small and thin and about my age, but she’s not wearing a uniform. Her white T-shirt is tight, with the words ‘Rage against Audism’ in black across her chest.
    I’ve never seen that word before. I don’t know what it means, but the first part of the word is probably from ‘audio’ and