A Quiet Kind of Thunder(39)

How to look after your very drunk friend

Step 1: Find her in the bathroom, slumped against the towel rack.

Step 2: Ask her if she needs to be sick. Try not to get offended when she yells that she’s NOT DRUNK, GOD, STEFFI!

Step 3: Tell her it’s fine when she apologizes, bursts into tears and then falls asleep on your shoulder.

Step 4: Accept gratefully when your boyfriend offers to get his dad to give you both a lift home.

Step 5: Coax Tem out of the car, across her driveway and to her front door. Wave at your boyfriend through the window. Try not to beam like a five-year-old at the circus.

Step 6: Root around in her front pocket for her keys. Make a joke about inappropriate touching. Laugh when she earnestly tells you that you could touch her anywhere, because nothing’s inappropriate when you’re best friends.

Step 7: Write it down so you can mock her with it tomorrow, and for the rest of time.

Step 8: Tell her mother that yes, you both had a great time. Pour two glasses of water, carry them both up the stairs. (Make her go first, so you can catch her if she trips.)

Step 9: Help her take off her make-up and convince her to brush her teeth. Put her to bed. Tell her it’s not a good time to start singing ‘My Name Is Panda’.

Step 10: Wait until she’s snoring away, just in case. All is well. Go to sleep.





I’m someone’s girlfriend.

I, Stefanie Elizabeth Brons, silent and not-at-all deadly, am someone’s girlfriend. How did this happen? I actually don’t know. A boy I could talk to walked into my life and now I get to touch him whenever I want and when he talks to me he says nice things and looks at me like I’m special. Last night we talked on jackbytes for two hours. He told me that he loved my voice.

My voice? I asked.

Yeah, your voice. The way you talk. The words you use. The way you put them together. Your voice.



He told me how when he was a kid he formed a band with his brothers. Rhys on the drums, Aled on guitar, Alfie taking lead vocals.

You can play the drums?

Yeah!

You never told me.

You never asked.



It’s not the most obvious question to ask a deaf person – Can you play a musical instrument? – but I learn my lesson. I try not to assume anything about him. Or, at least, assume less.

He tells me his family is very musical and so it was always a part of his life. His parents encouraged him to try playing different instruments to see if he felt drawn to any of them, and with drums he could feel the music. It’s all about the beat, and you don’t need to hear to feel that.

I had thought I’d got to know Rhys pretty well over the last few weeks, but I’d barely scratched the surface. Every little piece of information makes me like him even more.

It’s a Thursday, just a few days after we officially got together, and I’ve gone to Rhys’s house after school. Unlike last time, it’s empty. Rhys explains that his mother and Alfie are at the orthodontist and his dad is still at work.

Want to see my room? he asks.

I follow him up the stairs, keeping my eyes on a small hole at the ankle of his sock. Javert the cat is licking himself at the top of the stairs, one leg straight in the air. ‘Very glamorous,’ I say softly, reaching down to rub his head.

Rhys pauses in the doorway of his room, his smile a little shy. Here, he says, gesturing. My little corner of the world.

The room is smaller than my own and I try to take in as much of it as I can as quickly as I can, sketching it into my mind so I can return to it later rather than stand there and gawp, which is what I really want to do. It’s neat – far neater than I’d expect a boy’s room to be – with navy-blue walls and an off-white carpet. In the corner is an entertainment unit complete with TV, Xbox and some kind of LEGO tower. Over the radiator hangs a kind of woollen shelf, and I’m about to ask what it’s for when Javert ambles in and hops up on to it. Ah. Cat seat.

I turn to grin at him. Did you tidy up for me?

He laughs. No, I just like to keep things nice.

In the corner of the room I see what must be his drum set, though it has a dust cover over it so I can’t say for sure. I consider asking him to play for me, but I’m too worried that I won’t be able to successfully feign enthusiasm, so I don’t. Instead, I bridge the small gap between us and tilt my face towards him. Kissing Rhys in his bedroom is different from kissing him anywhere else, even though his door is open and we stay standing several paces away from his bed. There’s an intimacy to it that makes my heart fizz in a whole new way.

Seeing inside his room feels like a step, so I offer another.

The following Monday, the first big meeting of our relationship takes place: Rhys meets Rita.

And my dad. But mostly Rita.

Rhys walks me home from school and I stop in to grab my dog, who scrambles all around my legs, whining in delirious excitement at the sight of both me and the lead. When we get outside, she spots Rhys. Her tail goes rigid and her ears twitch.

‘Rita,’ I say, squatting to her level and putting my hand at the furry scruff of her neck. ‘This is Rhys. He’s very important. So be nice.’ I look up at Rhys and grin hopefully. This is Rita, I sign.

Rhys hesitates, then kneels down in front of us. Hello, Rita, he signs. My name is Rhys. It is excellent to meet you.

Rita cocks her head.