Part I

Lucas stepped into the classroom and took a seat in the front row. He could hear other students filing in and filling the rows behind him. Another student -- a slim, tall girl with brown hair extending to her shoulder blades -- sat beside him in the front row.

The prof entered. "I am Dr Chatterjee," he said in a thick accent. He began lecturing and writing equations on the whiteboard. Lucas opened a spiral-bound notebook and began copying the equations and annotating them.

The class ended and Lucas flipped shut his notebook. He stood and waited for the others to exit. The girl who sat near him approached him.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Sharon." Her voice carried the flatness and hollowness of someone with profoundly impaired hearing.

He regarded her. Sharon's face was oval with a broad forehead, high cheekbones, a straight nose and big, brown eyes. "I'm Lucas."

"Hi, Lucas. I see you take good notes. Could you do me a favor and share them?"

"Uh..."

"I can't read this prof," she continued. "You see I'm..." She pointed to her ear. "I'm deaf."

"You're deaf?"

"That's right."

"Do you read lips?"

She nodded and pulled back her hair to reveal hearing aids in each ear. "With that and these I usually do all right. This guy mumbles and he speaks facing the board. It's very difficult for me to read him. I'll be happy to get a B in this course."

"I suppose the accent doesn't help, either," Lucas replied. "I'll be happy to get a C in it, though I need a B. I'm dreading this class. Calculus isn't my strength -- I barely made a B in Calc II last year; and this year is going to be tougher. I simply don't get differentials."

The classroom had emptied and students for the next class began filtering in.

"Differentials are easy," Sharon replied. "Do you have another class to go to?"

"My next one is at ten. I didn't have time for breakfast so I was going to the Union and get coffee and a bagel or something."

"That sounds like a good idea," she replied. "I'll walk with you."

He navigated the desks and chairs and headed down the corridor. "Are you a Chem major, too?" he asked. She continued walking, her gaze straight ahead. "Sharon? SHARON?"

She stopped abruptly. "Did you say something?"

"I was asking if you were a Chem major, too."

"Lucas -- I need to see your face when you talk to me. Yes I am."

"That makes walking and talking difficult ... if not dangerous."

She nodded. "Let's talk in the union. My next class is at eleven so I have some time."

Lucas held the door for her. He picked up a tray, handed it to her and then took one for himself. "Thank you," she said.

He looked into her face. "Do you know if they accept meal blocks here?"

"I think they do."

Lucas helped himself to a cup of coffee and a bagel. At the cashier he presented his meal card. He carried his tray to a table and Sharon sat across from him.

"They debited the same blocks as a full meal at the cafeteria," he noted.

"They do it because they can," she replied.

"You must be new to the department," Lucas said. "It's a small department and I don't remember you from last year. Did you change majors?"

"I transferred in," she replied.

"From where?" Sharon stared at his face. "From what school?" he asked.

"From UNC. I didn't like it there and this place is closer to home."

"Sharon -- how long have you been deaf?" Lucas tried to enunciate clearly.

"All my life. When I was an infant I was very sick ... I almost died. The infection damaged my hearing. With the aids and reading lips I do all right ... most of the time."

"Do you know sign language?" he asked.

"I do ... I'm not very fluent in it. I went to a school for the deaf and they taught it, but I learned only enough to pass the tests. There are lots of signs I don't know."

"How many signs are there?"

"Lots."

"I thought there's just one for each letter."

"That's finger spelling," she replied. "If we spelled out everything it would take forever to say something. There are signs and gestures that represent whole words or ideas."

"I get it," Lucas replied. "It's a bit like written Chinese."

"Yeah ... a bit like that."

"Sign something for me," he said.

"I'd rather not..." Lucas made a faked pout. "Oh, all right..." She recited as she gestured. "Four score and seven years ago our forefathers..." He watched and listened as she recited the entire Gettysburg address.

Lucas made a quiet, clapping gesture. "Outstanding," he said. "I can't recite that by heart. You can, and you can sign it, too."

"It's an exercise I learned in school. It's harder for me to read some else's signs," she replied. "I'd rather try to function within the hearing world. Some deaf folks think it's a separate but equally valid human experience. I support anyone who wants to live that way but I'd rather try to fit in -- more opportunities this way."

"So, you don't regard your deafness as something that defines you; but rather as a challenge to overcome."

"Very well stated, Lucas." She sipped her coffee. "Will you share your notes? I'll pay to have them copied."

"Of course I will," he replied. "There's no need to pay. I type them up anyway and I can email you a copy of the doc file."

"You type them?"

"That's how I study in the evening -- I type up the day's notes on my computer. It's a habit I formed in high school. It's the only way I can retain the material -- it was the only way I survived my freshman year here. Do you want notes for all classes? I see you're also in my Chem and Physics classes."

"No -- only Calc. The others I can read okay."

Lucas finished his coffee and bagel. "Okay then, Sharon. I'll send you my Calc notes." He opened his spiral notebook. "What's your email?"

"It's sglover71."

"That's at the schools.edu domain?"

"Yeah."

"Check your inbox around eight or nine tonight."

"Thank you so much, Lucas. Maybe I can repay you by helping you understand differentials. I think it's an easy concept. You're just not thinking about it right."

"I can't visualize them," he replied. "I'm okay with geometry and algebra because I can visualize what's going on. Also, I have no trouble with chemical expressions because I can visualize the way the molecules look and interact. But differentials go right over my head." He checked his watch. "I need to head across campus for my next class, Sharon."

"What is your next class?"

"I'm taking a junior-level humanities class -- English poetry since 1800."

"It sounds interesting," she replied. "I like poetry."

"I'll see you in class, Sharon." He picked up his notebook and headed out the door.

Lucas unlocked his dorm room and spotted his roommate sitting at a laptop flicking through porn images. "Hi, Gary," he said.

"Lucas ... Man, I gotta find myself some pussy."

"You've been here a week and now you've got..."

" ... blue balls," Gary replied. "You gotta understand -- once a guy gets used to getting some on a regular basis -- to be cut off like this is brutal."

"Cut off? After one whole week?" Lucas replied. "What about..." He gestured to a photograph of a pretty, young, blonde woman that sat on Gary's desk."

"Amanda? She's two hours away. No, I gotta find a port in this storm."

"What would Amanda think?"

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her ... or me. I see you aren't wasting any time."

"What do you mean?" Lucas asked.

"Who was that chick I saw you canoodling with at the Union this morning?"

"She's not a chick. She's a classmate."

"She's a chick classmate," Gary replied. "She looked like she was into you, man -- the way she was gazing fondly into your eyes ... I know a bit about chicks' body language and hers was saying, 'I want to feel your big, hard, throbbing cock inside my pussy.'"

Lucas laughed. "That's not what she was saying at all. She was saying, 'I'm deaf and the only way I can understand you is if I read your lips.'"

"She's deaf?"

"She's deaf, Gary. You know, they don't wear badges."

"No shit ... When she talks does she have that wonk-wonk-wonk sound that deaf folks make?"

Lucas sighed. "Her voice does have a flat, nasal quality."

"I would find that so irritating. Don't you think it's irritating?"

"No, I don't," Lucas replied. "It's different, but you get used to it. It doesn't interfere with her ability to communicate. I think you need to give her some credit, Gary. She learned to talk without hearing what it sounds like."

"Are you gonna ask her out?"

"No. I'm not asking anyone out."

"Well," Gary replied, "Maybe I'll ask her out. Have you noticed how slim the pickings are this year? All the women are either taken, ugly or fat."