Cover reveal! A girl finds a community—and love—over the course of one summer in this joyful, wholesome YA romance that celebrates Deaf pride. Give Me a Sign by Anna Sortino is coming July 11, 2023!

Lilah is tired of being stuck in the middle. At least, that’s what having a hearing loss seems like sometimes—when you don’t feel “deaf enough” to identify as Deaf or hearing enough to meet the world’s expectations.

Ready for a change, Lilah becomes a counselor at a summer camp for the deaf and blind, where she plans to brush up on her ASL. There, she also finds a community. There are British lifeguards, who are very cute and very hard to understand; a YouTuber, who’s just a bit desperate for clout; the campers Lilah’s responsible for (and maybe a bit overwhelmed by)—and there’s Isaac, the dreamy Deaf counselor who volunteers to help Lilah with her signing.

Romance was neveron the agenda, and Lilah’s not positive Isaac likes her that way. But all signs seem to point to love—unless Lilah’s reading them wrong? One thing’s for sure: Lilah wanted change, and things here . . . they’re definitely different than she’s used to.

Scroll down to see the cover and read a sneak peek!

A guy about my age is standing there in a blue baseball cap and a Cubs T-shirt that fits him perfectly. He looks like he be­longs in the team’s dugout, although his hat has a cursive L on the front that I don’t recognize. A small tuft of hair curls at his forehead. He has a warm-brown complexion and kind, dark eyes that are set on me. He’s standing with his hands loosely clasped together, ready to sign, with a woven bracelet around his wrist, perhaps from last summer.

My heart is racing, and I’m not sure if it’s from lifting the bag or from realizing who helped me. “Thank you,” I say breathlessly.

“You’re welcome,” he signs. He points past me and signs something else.

I freeze. I want to answer him in sign, but I’m unsure exactly what he’s asking. He gives a small shrug, likely knowing that I didn’t understand, and walks around me to grab his backpack from his bunk . . . which is directly below mine. Of all the beds I could have chosen! At least he won’t be able to hear me if I snore in my sleep.

“Are you new this year?” This time he mouths the words a little bit, which I know is purely for my benefit.

“Um, no.” I beg my brain to remember any of the ASL I practiced. “Long time ago, I was here,” I say and sign. “As a camper.”

“Wait . . . ” He tilts his head to the side. His wonderfully ex­pressive eyebrows do a lot of communicating for him as he raises them and leans forward. “I think I remember you. Bug, right?”

“Whoa,” I say and sign. “Yes! You were a camper here, too?” I am certain I would remember him.

“Yeah, and then ————,” he signs. I don’t follow most of his response, but he raises his hand from his chest to his head, signing that he’s grown taller. “I look different, maybe.”

“Oh right, good,” I say and sign, nodding while my brain races to try to process more of what he signed.

“Good?” His eyebrows are raised and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Good, as in, I think I remember you now, too,” I say and sign quickly, cursing my limited vocabulary and feeling the blush rise on my cheeks. I stare down at his worn running sneakers that are caked in dry mud and laced with bright-green cords.

“I’m I————.”

“Sorry.” I hope that my frustration at my lacking ASL doesn’t come across as overly apologetic. “Again, please.”

He smiles and patiently spells out his name again. “I-s-a-a-c.”

“L-i-l-” But my hand is shaking, and I mess up, jumbling my letters. I close my hand into a fist, take a brief pause, and start again. “L-i-l-a-h.”

Preorder your copy