Tone Deaf(33)

But Cuddles is going to have to wait for a run, because I’m not going to leave Ali when she’s wearing that scared expression. I wave my hand a little, pulling Ali’s attention to me. I have zero clue how to comfort her, but I’m pretty sure awkwardly ignoring each other isn’t the ideal option.

“Tell me about yourself,” I sign. I’m still a little surprised at how easily ASL is coming back to me. Technically, it’s my first language, but I haven’t signed in years. And I never thought I would again. Amazing how that’s changed so quickly.

She raises her eyebrows. “What about me?”

“Anything. Like, do you have any pets?”

She shakes her head.

“Any sort of job?”

Another head shake, and another thing that makes us different. I glance out the window behind me, using the movement to hide my groan. Is there anything we have in common, besides parents who aren’t overly fond of us?

“Friends?” I sign. “Come on. You’ve got to have one of those.”

Her expression brightens just a little, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

“A-v-e-r-y,” she finger spells, and I assume this is her friend. “She’s the one who dragged me to your concert.” She blushes as soon as she signs that, and I can tell she’s regretting her word choice. Too bad. I think it’s cute that she had to be dragged to see me perform. It’s kind of refreshing, actually.

“We’ve been friends since we were ten,” she rushes on. “She lives across the street from me. She’s like my sister.”

As soon as she says that, her expression falls again. I raise an eyebrow and sign, “She didn’t want you to run away, did she?”

“She wants me to be safe,” Ali signs, her hands moving a little slower now. “But I’m not sure she’d think this is a good way to go about it. So I didn’t tell her exactly where I’m going or who I’m with. I know my dad is going to ask her questions, and I don’t want to put her in a bad situation.”

“You’re a good friend for that,” I sign.

She nods and looks away, but I can tell she’s still upset by the way her jaw clenches.

Then she signs, “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For saying that. I needed to hear that I’m doing the right thing for her.” She takes a deep breath and then signs, “How about you?”

“What about me?”

“Who are your friends? Other musicians?”

I laugh, not even trying to hide it. She cringes, but I ignore it and say, “Rock stars don’t make friends. The band is my family, but aside from them? No. I make fans and haters, but not friends.”

She purses her lips. “But you have to have some.”

I shrug. “I’ve got my band, and that’s all I need.”

She nods and then signs, “So . . . what do rock stars do for fun?”

“Play music. Write music. Perform music. What else?”

She shakes her head. “That’s your career. What do you do when you have time off?”

“Like I was just saying, I don’t have much time off.”

“You have to have some time off,” she insists.

“A little.”

“So,” she signs, giving me an expectant look, “what do you do with that time?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re kind of relentless, you know that?”

“Yep. Now, come on. Tell me what you do in your free time.”

“I like to read.” I gesture to the small end table, where I have a stack of fitness magazines and some books. Ali tilts her head sideways, reading the titles on the spines.

“You like mystery novels?” she signs.

“Yeah.”

She gives me a small, knowing smile. “Because the bad guy always gets caught.”

It’s not a question, so I don’t bother with an answer, aside from a small shrug. I’m not sure I like her being able to understand me so easily.

She gestures to the fitness magazines stacked next to the books. “You’re an athlete?”

“Not really, but I work out a lot. I like to stay healthy.”

“Okay. So what else besides reading and working out?”

“Sometimes I sketch random stuff.” I shrug. “You know, like scenes from my songs. Killer’s trying to teach me how to use Photoshop—so I can draw digitally with that—but I kind of suck at it.”

She laughs a little. “I can’t do Photoshop, either. There are way too many buttons. I mean, why not just use a pencil?”

I tilt my head, considering her. “You draw?” I don’t know why I find it surprising; her hands are delicate and precise when she signs, so I guess it’d make sense for them to make art along with words.

Ali nods. “Yeah. It’s kind of my hobby. Well, that and . . .” She trails off and gives a shy smile.

“That and what? Frisbee golf? Cat training? Knitting hats?”

She tries to cover a laugh with a scoff, but totally fails. Her laughter seeps through, and it’s just as pretty as she is, the sound high and soft. “No!”

I smirk. “So then your hobby is all three?”

“No, you jerk.” She flinches the moment she signs that, but I just keep calm and shoot her an amused smile. As soon as she realizes I’m not going to get angry, she hesitantly adds, “My other hobby is coding.”