Space is completely silent to the human ear. Sounds do exist, “but in the form of electromagnetic vibrations that pulsate in similar wavelengths.”

–canyouactually.com

My little brother is shaking me. Wake up, Kaira, he says. You’re going to be late. 

It wouldn’t be the first time. My dad always calls us down, but I never hear him. 

I quickly slip into my favorite pair of jeans and a random t-shirt I find in my drawer. When I get downstairs, Dad has already set a bowl of cereal on the table for me. He asks me if I slept well. I nod. The clock reads 7:22, three minutes before the bus comes. 

I swallow the last of the milk in the bowl and sign goodbye to Dad. I make it out of the house just as the bus arrives. 

How are you? the bus driver asks me as I climb into the bus. I sign the word good and sit behind him. 

The seats are mostly empty. This bus is only for special-needs kids or kids with disabilities. It’s for the kids with Autism, the kids in wheelchairs, or the kids who are deaf and can’t talk. Like me.

I stare out the window, catching my reflection.

Callie, my older sister, once told me I’m pretty. I think she was trying to make me feel better because I’m deaf. I don’t think I am pretty. I also have heterochromia, which makes my eyes two different colors. One of them is brown and the other is hazel. Callie, on the other hand, has two green eyes. We both share the same hair color. But my hair is curly and frizzy while her hair is wavy and smooth. 

Not being able to hear or speak is horrible. I would trade all of this to be in Callie’s position. To be able to hear sounds. Sometimes it feels like I’m living in outer space, where I can’t hear a thing. It can be cool, but sometimes I would rather be down on Earth. 

The bus pulls up into the school’s parking lot. Thank you, I sign to the bus driver. You’re welcome, he replies.  

I walk through the front doors and head to the principal’s office. As I do so, I notice the kids in the hall staring at me. It’s no different from any other day, but their eyes bore into my back. I can see them whispering to one another. I bet that I am the subject of their conversation. 

One of them is a girl named Ginger. Her golden locks are styled in supple curls. She’s been tormenting me for years because I’m deaf. I found a note in my locker last year. It said, “Your dumb and your a deaf ugly person,” the derogatory words being dumb (as in stupid and mute), and ugly. And I guess deaf was also meant to be derogatory. I just crumpled the note and threw it away. (Besides, why should I pay any attention to someone who can’t even spell right?)

As I walk by, Ginger puts an L to her head and brings it forward, the sign for loser. Her friend, Grace, does the same.

They both laugh. I duck my head and keep walking. 

It hasn’t always been this way. I went to deaf school until third grade and then my dad homeschooled me. But he got a job at the end of fifth grade, so I was forced to go to public school. Unfortunately. 

When I reach the front desk lady, a sweet, red-faced woman, I sign hello and head into the principal's office.

Pluto’s atmosphere is cooler and more compacted than scientists expected.

—space.com

A girl is sitting in my chair. She is talking to the principal.

As I walk in, they both look up.

Good morning, the principal mouths. She takes a piece of paper and a pen and writes something down. She holds it up. 

Take a seat, it says. I do. Dr. Tumuaki scribbles a few more words. This is Autumn. She’s new here, and she would like you to show her around.  

I glance at her. She’s got strawberry blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and pink lips. Bracelets are lined up her arm, and she’s wearing a mustard yellow shirt with overalls. If I had to describe her in one word based on this first impression, I would say artistic. If I could speak. 

She notices me staring at her.

Hello, my name is Kaira. Nice to meet you, I quickly sign.

Hello, she signs. 

I gape at her. You know sign language? I ask her. 

She nods. A little. Help me, please?

Okay. 

I show her the lockers first. The other kids, including Ginger and Grace, are still there. They watch as we walk past them. At first, I don’t know who they are staring at, but then I realize they are staring at both of us. 

We’ve already established that Ginger and Grace hate me. Most of the other kids do, too. I’m the only deaf person in our grade. And I don’t have any friends, so I guess it is surprising to see me walking with another girl. 

My locker is near my science class, as is Autumn’s. Our schedule is almost the same, except the period when she has language. During that time, I have a free period to work with my teachers.

Your locker, I sign, and then point to the locker.

She looks confused. I repeat the sign, but she doesn’t understand. 

L, O, C, K, E, R, I spell out. 

Her eyes widen. I understand. Thank you. 

Autumn enters her locker combination. She jiggles the locker handle a bit and it pops out. Unzipping her backpack, she pulls out a blue-green ombre binder, a white notebook, and a pencil pouch. 

I point to the binder. Cool.

Thank you, she replies. I made it myself. 

Autumn stuffs the empty backpack into her locker and slams the door shut.

Ginger is standing there, and Grace is right beside her. 

Hi, I’m Ginger. She speaks it, but I look at her lips to read what she is saying.

Autumn says something, and they go on talking for a while. Ginger occasionally flips her hair. Autumn plays with her bracelets. Grace and I just stand there. 

Finally, I see the kids disperse, which means the bell rang. Ginger waves at Autumn and walks into the science lab. 

Autumn smiles at me. I lead her into class. Bree, my aide, is standing next to the teacher’s desk. She grins at me. 

How are you? she asks. 

Good, thank you. I point to Autumn. She is Autumn. She is new. 

They chat until the teacher walks in. Bree and I walk to my seat. Autumn follows. 

The science lab has counters instead of tables. Four people can sit at one counter. I sit by myself since all the other counters are full (except Ginger and Grace’s), and Bree usually helps me with group assignments. 

Autumn suddenly stops and turns around, so I look over. Ginger and Grace are there, probably asking her to sit with them. Autumn shakes her head and takes a seat next to me. I smile at her. Ginger narrows her piercing blue eyes at me and crosses her arms. 

Bree taps me on the shoulder and starts signing what the teacher says. We are moving on to a new topic, Bree signs. The solar system.

Pluto was reclassified as a dwarf planet in 2006 because it had not “cleared the neighborhood around its orbit.”

–theplanets.org

I love space, and everything in it. But what I really love about it are the planets. Pluto is my favorite, even though it isn’t a planet anymore. Pluto and I are a lot alike. Pluto is… different. And it didn’t fit in, so it was excluded. Kind of like me. 

Bree taps me, and I focus on her hands. 

Research a constellation. It’s a group project, so find someone to work with.  

I look at Autumn. Partners?

She smiles. Yes.

When lunch finally rolls around, I head to my locker to take out my lunchbox. I wait for Autumn to get out her lunch, but she just leans against the wall.

Where’s your lunch?

I will buy, she responds. I grimace, and she laughs. Bad?

Yes!

We walk to the lunchroom. I normally eat lunch with Bree in the teacher’s lounge, but I decided to accompany Autumn today. 

Autumn stands in line and asks me what food is good. 

Turkey sandwich, I say. 

She picks one up, pays for it, and we look around for a seat. 

Where do you sit? she asks me. 

I’m about to respond when Autumn sees Ginger waving her over. She looks at me, and I shrug. We walk over to Ginger’s table where Grace and the rest of Ginger’s minions sit. 

They all talk amongst themselves. I can’t hear them, so I just sit and quietly eat my lunch. I can see Autumn talk sometimes, but mostly she and I sign with each other and make plans to work on our project. We decide on my house since she’s still unpacking, but I warn her of my little brother. 

At the end of lunch, we throw our trash away and go to our classes. Autumn has Spanish, so I show her the classroom and then head to the teacher’s lounge to meet Bree. 

Hello, Bree signs. Good lunch?

Yes, I respond. I need help with English. Need to write an essay. 

Okay, she tells me. Bree gets a piece of paper and a pencil. Let’s start.