"Is Carter here?" Simon asked, standing in front of the bait shop with his hands clenching the strap of his bag. He looked a bit antsy, shifting on his feet.

Nate set his pencil down on his spreadsheet. Since no one had come to the shop, he was working on homework. It was either that or stare at the wooden counter for the next three hours. He nodded, leaning back only to realize his uncle had left him once again. "Ugh, he left."

He got to his feet for the other door and flung it open, looking around. Carter wasn't anywhere. "Really wish he'd tell me where he was going!" Nate complained, slamming his butt back into the seat. "What do you need?"

"Huh?"

Nate looked up at Simon, sighing as he'd forgotten already that Simon couldn't hear him. "Sorry… What do you need?"

"I, uh…" His face flushed a deep red, a small thing that made Nate's heart flutter, though he ignored that. "I need a job."

"Oh. Well… I don't think there's a lot of work for another person." Nate played with the corner of the paper. "Can't you work somewhere else? You don't always have to talk to Carter for things."

"There aren't a lot of people that want deaf people. I'm a liability. So I need to work places where my hearing doesn't matter."

"Yeah." He sighed. "I don't know where Carter went, but you can sit with me… if you want."

"Uh,"

"You don't have to-"

Simon went to the side of the shack and opened it. He set his bag down on the floor, taking out his sketchbook and pencils. "I'll just wait. I guess."

"Kay." Nate scooted away. “What are you drawing?” He asked, looking down at his sketch of the island.

“It’s a tropical island in the ocean.”

Nate frowned. “That’s a lake.” He pointed ahead of them.

“It’s just a reference. I don’t have to draw exactly what’s in front of me.”

Nate got even closer and took the book from Simon. “You’re actually pretty good at this.”

“Thanks.” He reached for the book, but Nate pulled it away from him. “Give it back.”

“Damn. Wish I could draw like this.”

Simon sighed. It always went this way. No one ever cared about him, just his work. For the little bit of acknowledgment, he got in school, it normally centered around his artwork. And, as they always do, people would say they couldn’t even draw a stick figure. Blah, blah, blah. It was the same routine.

Nate finally handed it back to him. “How long have you been drawing?”

“Ever since I could remember.”

“Which is what?”

Simon shrugged. He really didn’t know. “Five. I guess.”

“I can’t draw.” Ah, there it is - Simon thought. Next, he’d mention the stupid stick figures. “Everything I draw looks lopsided and gross. I gave up on it a long time ago.”

“What? Not going to mention how you can’t draw stick figures.” It was his biggest pet peeve.

“What?” Nate scoffed. “I can draw a stick figure. I’m not that lame.”

Simon flinched. Well, this was… different. “I didn’t mean -”

“Can I draw something?” He was so bored, he was itching to do almost anything. And if he drew any more lopsided pictures on his homework, his teachers might kill him. As for notebooks, he preferred to use his tablet so he wouldn’t have to carry anything between classes.

Simon pulled the book away defensively. “No. Don’t you have something you could be doing?”

“Not really. Just let me draw something. I’ll give it back when I’m done.”

He sighed in defeat, handing him the damn book. “Fine.”

“Cool.”

He started by drawing a circle. Then two squiggly lines protruding from the circle. He added three dots, two on top and on lower and between the other two. He then added three lines each under the first two dots. Two triangles on either side of the top of the circle. He then drew a straight line pointed at an angle, facing down, on the right side.

He lifted it up to get a look. “Here.”

Simon frowned at it. To him, it looked like some kind of animal. Maybe a cat or dog? “What is it?”

“It’s a mouse.”

He cocked his head to get a better look at it. “Oh… Yeaaah - I see it.”

Nate lowered the book. “It doesn’t look like a mouse, does it?”

“No.”

“Then you draw a mouse.” He handed the book and pencil back.

Simon sighed, sketching out lightly the rough dimensions. He then filled in the body of the mouse, shaping the feet and legs onto the body. He detailed the face with large, sad eyes - and extended the mouses arms with a piece of cheese between its paws. The tail of the mouse was long and wrapped loosely around the mouse at his feet.

During the entire sketch, Nate paid close attention to the care Simon took. He glanced up at Simon, noticing how when he concentrated, he’d stuck out the tip of his tongue.

“There.”

Nate snapped out of it. “What?” He stared at the mouse. What looked like an actual mouse and not the half-assed three-year-old sketch he’d made just minutes before. “Holy shit, you’re good.”

Simon blushed. “I-I’m not amazing… it’s just -”

“No, you really have a talent for this.” Nate turned the book so he could see the mouse better, touching Simon’s fingers. “You’ve been doing this for a really long time. It shows.”

“Th-thanks.”

Nate watched as Simon got a little flustered, causing him to turn away in some effort to hide his grin. The reaction was a bit cute. It was a bit awkward, however, saying all of that while looking him directly in the face.

Their conversation ended when Carter slammed the door shut behind them, pausing when his eyes fell on Simon. Nate had turned to watch him, but Simon was still stuck in thought to notice. "What's wrong?" Carter asked, suddenly curious.

"Oh, Simon needs a job. I guess?" Nate said, cocking a brow at the thing in Carter's hands.

Carter set it down on the table and started opening a box of rope to untangle it. "Why do you need a job?" He asked, and waited.

When no one replied to him, he stopped messing with the rope and turned to the boys. Simon had gone back to drawing, prompting his question, "Simon, can you hear me?" He turned to Nate. "What's going on?"

"Uh," Nate fumbled. Simon had such the secret life that he really didn't know what to say in response. Did he lie? Not that he had a problem with it, he just didn't know what he was supposed to say instead.

He turned and tapped Simon's shoulder. "Carter's here," he explained, getting up and heading for the door. At the very least, he figured, they would want some privacy.

As soon as he closed the door, he could hear Simon begin to tell a fictitious story about how he came to damage his hearing aids, followed by a probably real tale about how his mother was sick and tired of buying him replacements after they broke. Nate turned before he could overhear anything more and went to the water.