Leap of Faith by Cassidy Shay (the giving tree read aloud .txt) 📕

missing the point.
     “And, you don’t get the radio for a week.” My dad waves his fork at me. 
    I had expected the car to be taken away. Not only did I ditch school, but I’ve been arguing with my parents since they started talking. But the radio too?
    I keep my mouth shut. I know that arguing will just make it worse. I just look down at my plate. After a couple seconds, I decide that I’m not hungry and take my plate to the sink, then go to my room.
    I lay on my bed for several hours, thinking about my punishment. I can’t understand why they think Amia is at fault. I sigh and roll over to look at the clock. It’s 11:15, but I know he’s still up.
    I dig through my pocket and dial Joe’s number on my phone. There have been a few times where I needed someone to cover my spot at the station, and Joe's always up for it.
     He answers on the fourth ring. “Mikey?”
    “Yeah,” I say. “Hey, Joe, would you be able to fill in for me for this week?” 
   I hear him laugh. “A whole week? You must have really pissed your dad off. Sure. But what did you do to get it taken away for that long?”
    “I ditched school and then I brought someone into the studio.” I hear a door slam on the other end of the line, and Joe says something to someone. Then, he turns his attention back to me.
    “Why did you bring them in?”
   “She was having a bad day and-“
   “Oh. I see.” If we were talking face to face, he’d be winking at me, and I know he has that look on his face. The one that says, “I know what you were up to in there.” Of course, he knows it wasn't anything like that, but he's still going to tease me about it. 
    I ignore this. “So you’ll do it for me?”
    “Yeah. 3:30-5:30, right?”
   “Yeah. Thanks, man. I’ll talk to you later.”

In the morning, Amia isn’t at school. I keep waiting for her to walk in with a note from the office, but she never does. 
    In each class, my teachers ask me where I was the day before. It's not normal for me to not be at school, especially since it's an unexcused absence. But I just mumble something about being sick, and try to pay attention. It's not that easy, though. For some reason, I keep worrying about Amia. There's a large part of me that keeps saying that it's okay, she's perfectly fine. But a small part knows that something could have gone wrong. 
    When the final bell rings, I’m slow getting out of the school. I usually leave in a rush, but since I’m riding the bus this week, I take my time.
   By the time I get to the parking lot, there aren’t many people left, except for the ones riding the bus. I head to my bus and on the way, I see a girl standing on the cement, waiting for someone. I jog over to where she is. “Where were you this morning?” I say after she looks at me. 
    Amia looks tired. “My mom made us all go out to breakfast together, since dinner last night was a disaster.”
   I nod. “I’m sorry. About your dad. About everything.” I don't ask her what happened at dinner – she doesn't look like she's in the mood to talk about it. For a few seconds, it's quiet. Looking around, everything is still. People aren't talking, and cars aren't pulling up. I can’t hear anything. I wonder what it’s like for it to be like this all the time. 
    "Um... so I'm grounded," I say, breaking the silence. For me, anyway. "So I won't be on the radio this week."
    She gives a small nod. "Sorry for getting you in trouble. But thanks for taking me. It made me feel a lot better. But I really am sorry that it got you in trouble."
    I shake my head at her. "No, it's not your fault at all. It was all me. Plus, I sat there and argued with my parents and made it worse." I really don't want her to feel bad or think that she got me in trouble.
    She looks behind my shoulder and waves at someone. I turn around and see Lisa in a car. “I gotta go,” Amia says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I wave at them as they pull away, and then turn around and get on the bus. 
    I exhale slowly as I climb the steps. I hate the bus. I dodge the middle schoolers and find a seat in the back, where hopefully I won’t be bugged by anyone. Usually, I don't mind socializing with people. But when I'm forced to ride the bus, I don't want to talk to anyone. I end up getting the seat to myself, and when the bus starts to pull out of the school parking lot, I slip my headphones on and drown out the noise. I hate the bus.

 

For the next couple months, Amia and I become close. There aren’t any more ditch days, and we don’t see each other much after school. The reporters move on after a while, and neither of us read anything that they published. We start texting every once in a while, until eventually we pretty much text each other every day. It’s nice to have a platform where we can get to know each other without the audience at school or on the air. Once I get to radio back, she calls every day.
    And that’s what brings us close. It’s definitely not because we have so much in common – she’s the deaf girl from a broken home, I’m the Christian kid with married parents. She never trusts anyone until she has a reason, while I try to see the good in people and trust them until I have a reason not to. She’s generally a gloomy person, and I like to look at the bright side. But despite these differences, we get along really well. She and I have experienced two very different sides of humanity, so we balance each other out. Opposites attract, right?

The radio is where we really get to know each other. I still feel that special connection to her, since I’m the only one she can hear. She seems to feel it too, and I can tell that she’s more comfortable with me than she is with other people. We talk about our likes and dislikes, tell stories from our childhoods. We discuss our opinions on current events, and every once in a while we’ll talk about religion in some shape or form.

We tease each other, and I make it my goal to make her laugh at least once a day. I know that she sees the world as a dark place, and I make it a priority to bring at least a little bit of light to her. As time passes, it becomes a little easier to make her laugh. I discover that, underneath the serious and calloused attitude, she’s actually a lot of fun.

It doesn’t take long for her to go from the stranger who can miraculously hear to one of my best friends.
    My parents try to get me to stop talking to her, but I refuse. Not just for my sake, but for Amia's too. What would she think if I just told her I couldn't talk to her anymore? What would she think if I told her what her mom said about her? It would crush her, and I won't do it to her. Plus, this girl is miraculous. And I'm determined to get as much time with her as possible. I would be lying if I said that curiosity about her situation had nothing to do with getting closer to her. But the more I know about her, the more grateful I am that God put her in my life.
    My mom continues to be mad about it, but my dad gave up after a couple weeks. He realized that he won’t always be able to boss me around, so I’ll have to figure some things out on my own. I have a feeling that the increase in listeners also has something to do with it. 
    On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I stop her before she leaves Chemistry. “What are you doing this weekend?”
    She shrugs. “I don’t know. My dad will be over tomorrow for dinner. After that I’ll probably just be at home.”
    I nod. “You’ll still be listening to the radio, right?” She nods. “Okay. Are you doing anything on Sunday?” 
    She thinks for a second. “No, not that I know of. Why? What do you have in mind?”
   “My parents are leaving on Saturday morning. They’re going to visit my grandma for a couple days, and I decided not to go. I was just wondering if you’d go to church with me.”
    She starts laughing, and at first I don’t know why. We’re in front of my second hour, but I stop and wait for her answer. 
    “You really are strange, you know that? Maybe you’re just really out of the loop or something, but most kids throw parties when their parents are out of town.”
   I shrug. “Yeah, I’ve been to some of those. Cheap booze and beer pong, lots of weed. Been to one, been to ‘em all. I like to shake things up a little bit.” I smile. “So will you go with me?”
    She thinks about it for a minute. “Can we sit up front, where I can read people’s lips?” I nod. “Alright. I’ll go.”
   “Cool. I’ll pick you up around 7:30, okay?”
   She smiles and nods. “See you then.”
   When I walk into class, everyone is looking at me. "Am I late?” I whisper to the people who sit around me. I don’t remember the bell ringing.
   “No,” says Courtney, a red head who I’ve known since kindergarten. “We’re just all wondering when you’re finally gonna ask her out.”
   “Amia? She’s my friend. That’s it.” I’m not sure why this has to be a class discussion. I start taking out all my stuff, but they aren’t done with this.
   “Come on, dude. We all know she wants you.” This from Kevin, our school’s resident dealer. 
   Before I can answer, Mr. B. tells us to quiet down so he can get the class started. He turns to the girl behind me and asks, “Donde vives?” and no one says another word about Amia and I.

 

Amia

 

In between the impromptu ditch day and Thanksgiving, Mikey and I get to know each other a lot better. It