Max looked through Lexi as if she didn’t exist.
So why does he hang around me all the time? If I’m so goddamn invisible, so beneath his royal notice, why doesn’t he get a life of his own?
Lexi began scratching out names with a pen, rearranging the seating chart.
Lisa Babbington could sit next to Grady Jones.
If Max didn’t have enough friends to fill his table, it wasn’t her problem.
“Do you like it? I know it’s not your official birthday yet, but Rachel thought you might want to wear it for the party.”
Lexi’s interpreter, Rachel, was her more or less constant companion. Peter Templeton had relied heavily on Rachel’s advice when it came to choosing Lexi’s birthday present. Watching Lexi’s face light up now, he was glad he had.
“Daddy, I love it. Oh my goodness.”
“Really?” He beamed with pleasure.
“Really.”
Lexi ran her fingertips in wonder over the gossamer beaded silk dress. It was Chanel, from the new season’s collection. The delicate fabric was the exact same shade of champagne blond as Lexi’s hair. The cut was exquisite, plunging and clinging in all the right places, but too much of a work of art to look slutty. It was, without question, the most beautiful item of clothing in existence.
“A beautiful dress for my beautiful girl. You’ll look like a princess, my angel.”
Lexi smiled. “Thank you, Daddy.” He still thinks I’m six years old. “It’s an amazing present.”
And it’s gonna help me get the birthday present I really want:
Christian Harle.
Lexi learned early that her deafness was a double-edged sword when it came to dating.
Going to school with an interpreter who rarely left her side was a definite minus. Lexi’s lip-reading was excellent and her speech by no means poor, but she was self-conscious about her imagined slurring and preferred to sign whenever possible and have Rachel speak for her.
She was lucky to have had the same interpreter for almost eight years now, since her early days in the hospital. Peter knew that consistency of caregivers would be crucial to his daughter’s recovery. Consequently he had thrown money and perks at the then twenty-year-old Rachel, upping the ante every year to make sure she wasn’t tempted to leave. Now twenty-eight, Rachel was considerably chubbier than she had been back then, but just as hardworking and sunny-natured. Lexi herself had long since passed the point where she actively noticed her interpreter’s presence. To her, Rachel was like her shadow: always there, yet somehow almost invisible.
Unfortunately, boys didn’t see it that way.
“Can’t you lose Chubby Checker for half an hour after school?”
Pete Harris, a rebel with floppy blond hair, skater tattoos on his chest, and a reputation as the biggest player in tenth grade, leaned over in math class and whispered in Lexi’s ear.
His warm breath on her earlobe felt nice. Lexi could pretty much get the gist of his intentions from pheremones alone. But of course, without being able to see his lips, the words themselves meant nothing.
She signed to Rachel. “Ask him to say it again. Tell him to look at me when he speaks.”
Rachel duly did as she was asked. Suddenly the whole class had turned around to stare at Pete Harris. He didn’t feel so cool anymore.
“Harris, you moron! Don’t you know she needs to see your lips to read them?”
“Yeah, c’mon, Pete. Share with the class, man. What’d you say?”
“You guys should definitely date. Deaf and Dumb, what a couple!”
“I…I’m sorry,” Pete Harris blurted, blushing to the roots of his blond hair. “You’re cute, but I…I can’t do this.”
Lexi was philosophical about Pete Harris. He was hot, but he was kind of a moron. Besides, she had her sights set on a much bigger fish: Christian Harle.
Lexi had begun Operation Christian in the eighth grade. At fourteen, she was still far too lowly a minnow in the Exeter High School pond for a guy like Christian Harle to notice. Two years her senior, with the body of an Olympic athlete and a face that could make Brad Pitt cry, Christian Harle dated only cheerleaders or models. The fact that he was astronomically out of Lexi’s league didn’t faze her in the least. On the contrary, it made this the perfect time for her to lay the groundwork of her operation.
Her plan was simple. She would find out what Christian looked for in a woman. (Big tits, pretty face, ditzy manner, IQ of dung beetle.) She would then transform herself into his ideal mate.
Lexi checked off the points on Christian’s wish list one by one.
My tits are nonexistent, but they’ll grow.
My face is already pretty, or it will be once the braces come off.
I’m smart enough to pretend to be stupid. So what’s left?
Ah yes. Ditzy and helpless.
If having Rachel around was a dating minus, Lexi’s deafness also provided some unique dating pluses. Because of her disability, boys tended to think of her as sweet and vulnerable-the poor little deaf heiress who needed their protection. Lexi quickly learned how to turn this misconception to her advantage. By ninth grade, she had her phony damsel-in-distress shtick down to a fine art.
“Rachel? Would you ask Johnny to help me with my books? I’m so tired this morning, I really couldn’t walk another step.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Thomas, but I’m afraid I couldn’t finish my assignment this week. I’ve been having terrible nightmares. Flashbacks about my ordeal.”
Lexi’s big gray eyes welled with tears. Rachel thought: She’s a fine little actress, this one. She’s got them all fooled.