The Way We Feel

13: Leila

hey!! just so everyone knows, there's gonna be a trigger warning in this chapter. i'm gonna leave it in bold right before the a/n at the end, just so i don't spoil anything for anybody, but please check that if it's something that you're worried about!

//

"Chocolate chip mint, please," Zach told the person at the counter, who promptly turned around to scoop it. Leila had already begun to eat her own ice cream, and glanced at him when he wasn't looking.

She hadn't really realized earlier, but he looked exhausted. His face was very tight, and she suspected that he was still in pain. His eyes looked unfocused, as if he was about to fall asleep.

Yet here he was, spending the day with her at a museum.

"So, the school year is wrapping up pretty quickly," Leila said, trying for some small talk as they started walking towards a bench. Zach nodded.

"Senior year is nearly at its end," he said in a quiet tone. "Do you have any idea what you want to do after?"

Leila was silent for a few beats.

"I'm kind of deciding between a few things. I either want to do something with history, like work in a museum maybe, or become an interpreter."

"Like, ASL?" he asked as they sat down, and she nodded, assessing his reaction. "I think that'd be a cool job; it's what I used to want to do." Leila stared at him.

"There's no chance," she said, staring. He leaned on his hand, his elbow resting on the armrest.

"Why?" Leila laughed humourlessly.

"Because every time Angela and I sign, you instantly look away. Because you can't even bring yourself to try out your own name sign. Because it's as if the very idea of Angela being deaf is intruding on your precious life." She breathed heavily, waiting for him to reply.

He didn't. At least for a long few minutes.

"I don't hate that she's deaf," he said quietly. "I mean, I hate it for her, I guess, because being disabled in an able-bodied world isn't exactly easy, but it doesn't bother me."

"So then why the hostility to the very language?" She demanded. He was silent for a moment, then seemingly changed the subject.

"Have I told you how I lost my leg?" Leila stared at him, and blinked.

"Um, no? Other than your 'shark attack' nonsense." He nodded, exhaling.

"Well," he took in a shaky breath, and Leila realized that she was about to be engaged in an extremely sensitive conversation.

"About a year and a half ago, my little brother was desperate to go to the store for some last-minute Halloween stuff."

Little brother?

"My parents didn't want him to take the subway, even though he'd done it a million times because, I mean, New York, so I offered to drive him. And, um," he cleared his throat, staring at the trees in front of them.

"You don't need to—" Leila tried to say, but he cut her off.

"I do." He fiddled with his hands, before beginning again. "Anyway, it was nighttime, and I took this shortcut down one road that isn't often used by the public, it's more for industrial stuff. So I wasn't as worried about...about looking at the road." He stopped talking, and Leila could see his hands shaking.

She grabbed one, hoping that maybe it would comfort him instead of just being weird. He didn't look up at her, but started speaking again.

"So I thought it'd be okay to talk to Cody. And he was really good at speaking, but I had to be facing him at least a little so that he could see my hands." He paused, glancing at Leila, and some pieces were beginning to go together.

"You were signing?" He nodded, before turning away.

"So I took my eyes off the road, told him that we also had to pick up some stuff for Mom's birthday while we were out, and we got hit by a fucking semi truck."

Zach let out a heavy breath, his hand tightly clenching Leila's.

"Next thing I know, my leg is being completely crushed under part of the car while some firefighters tried to get it out, there's sirens and lights everywhere, and my little brother was dead in the passenger seat." Leila felt like she'd been thrown into an ice-cold lake, and she looked over at him to see a single tear rolling down his face.

"The leg obviously got cut off." His voice had become emotionless. "I spent some time in the hospital, then in rehab, and then we moved here." He looked over at her, and she desperately tried to think of something to say.

"I...that's awful. I'm so, so sorry that that happened to you." He nodded.

"At least I'm alive," he said, with a fake smile. "That's what people have told me ever since." Leila frowned.

"That's not the right thing to say to someone," she said, and he shrugged.

"No one really knows what to say, even if they've experienced loss on that level too." Leila nodded, knowing how spot on that statement was.

"So..." She wasn't sure if she should bring it up. "You...you know sign language?" He gave a strangely sarcastic smile.

"Yep. A lot of good it does me, when I can't even use it." Leila tilted her head in confusion.

"What do you mean? I mean, I know your brother...but there are other people who you could sign with." Like Angela.

Zach looked away.

"No, I can't. For the same reason I can barely ride in a car without completely freaking out. I apparently have PTSD from the accident, and cars are really common to be afraid of after that, but because I was literally signing when it happened...I just can't anymore. Every time I try, it just turns into a panic attack." He pushed his hair back frustratedly. "And I hate that I can't sign because now Angela is here and it would be so helpful to like...be able to, you know? But instead I just get to live with my screwed up brain."

Leila felt tears welling in her eyes, and she stared at the sky to will them away.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I...I don't really know what to say," she admitted. "But I'm glad you told me." He let out a small breath, before somehow pulling a smile onto his face.

"You don't need to say anything, Leila. I told you so that you'd understand, and now you do. But it isn't something that you need to like...think of all the time when you're around me."

Right, because it would be so easy to forget.

"I'm working through everything. Really. I'm doing a lot better than I may have sounded from that story."

He smiled again, and although it looked just as genuine as always, Leila didn't believe that he was doing as well as he was trying to convince her. Maybe she didn't even know what a genuine smile from him looked like.

Whatever the case, she took the cue that he didn't want to talk about this any longer, and returned his smile with one of her own.

"Let's go do something else," she suggested, and they stood up, wiping melted ice cream onto the napkins they had taken multitudes of.

//

trigger warning for car accidents and ptsd

//

so that was kinda short, but i hope you enjoyed it regardless! thank you to everyone who's reading :^))

xo, hannah