Page 21 of Sending Love Letters to Animals

“I guess he decided to get rid of it once things settled down.”

“I guess.”

“You should go take a picture with him and his boyfriend. It would probably break the internet!”

“Uh, what?” I frowned.

“Like, the most famous gay guys from each high school in town, man!” Liam joined in. “The three of you together in one picture on Instagram would probably go viral!”

“Yeah,” I shrugged them off. “Not interested in becoming a viral story.”

“Well, you could still go talk to them!” Aubrey had dislodged herself from Daniel when she heard our friends plotting potentially viral activities. “Maybe they have a friend or something?”

“A friend?” I asked.

“For you.” She looked at me like I was dense. “A boo thang?”

“Ah,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”

“You’re hopeless, Ryan!” Elijah announced before snapping a selfie as the lights bathed his face in teal.

Again, I glanced over at the two guys getting approached by one person after another for a picture. The taller guy looked uncomfortable but polite, his lips stretched in a tight smile while his eyes darted around wildly. The shorter, red-haired guy simply looked happy to be involved. The way the shorter guy held onto the arm of the taller guy and looked up at him was sweet. However, I had to wonder what they were doing at the Low-Key Café. Not because I felt my territory being threatened, but because they looked like they’d much prefer having time alone doing something quiet as a couple.

The way everyone was fawning over them, begging them to help create content to post online, was annoying. And I wasn’t even involved or personally affected by it. Having people want to be around you and in your orbit simply for clout was kind of gross. Then again, the two guys didn’t seem too bothered by it, and they were at the Low-Key Café after all. You didn’t show up at the club for people to not interact with you.

“Pineapple seltzer,” Jules said, appearing at my side.

I started at the sound of her voice but quickly recovered. She passed me a plastic cup filled with a vaguely yellow liquid, along with a bottle of Ramune. In her other hand was a plate full of Lomo Saltado. The paper plate was piled high with steak, peppers, onions, tomatoes, and fries, and looked absolutely delicious. My mouth immediately began watering at the sight and smell of the food.

“Twenty dollars, Ryan!” Jules growled. “That’s why cover is free and each drink was a dollar. They jacked up the prices of the food!”

I laughed. “Looks good, though.”

“It better be. I’m poor now,” Jules said.

I was still chuckling as she produced a plastic fork from her pocket and stabbed at her plate of food. I hadn’t even had a chance to take a sip of my drink and Jules hadn’t even brought her fork to her mouth when Aubrey pushed through our friends to put her phone in our faces.

“Pose, bitches!” she demanded. “Make it pretty!”

Jules and I begrudgingly complied with her request. I held my drink up and Jules brought her fork away from her plate, steak and fries skewered on its tines. The two of us smiled and posed as Aubrey snapped off a few pictures as the lights of the club cycled through colors around us.

After the pictures of the two of us were taken, Jules was barely allowed enough time to take a bite of her food, and I’d taken a mere sip of my drink, when Aubrey declared that we needed to take group photos. Once again, Jules and I complied with our friends’ desires to be internet famous, and posed for several pictures with them, sneaking in sips and bites when we could. By the time all of our friends were satisfied that they had enough material to post online over the next week, I was ready to go home.

However, Savage Remix by Megan Thee Stallion and Beyonce started playing, and Aubrey dragged Jules toward the dance floor. Jules passed me her plate, instructing me to leave her at least a few bites, and followed Aubrey. As all of the girls in the club—and a few of the guys—danced under teal and pink lights strobing overhead, I found an empty table to sit down. I tucked into my drink and the plate of Lomo Saltado. Against my better judgment, I took my phone out and made a quick video of me nodding along to the song and sipping my drink—pretending I was having the time of my life.

It felt disingenuous, but what else was there to do? That was what being a teenager in high school was about after all, wasn’t it? Trying to have some fun while you figured out life. So, instead of being a sour puss and sitting on the sidelines while my friends danced and took pictures, I went and joined Jules and Aubrey on the dance floor. After reassuring Jules that her food was safe at a table, the three of us danced and took pictures.

For the night, we’d really be no different than anyone else at the Low-Key Café, but at least we could try to enjoy it. Maybe, if I was lucky, I wouldn’t have to approach some guy and find a “friend.” It was possible that my awesome dance moves would draw some guy to me. It seemed unlikely, but I figured it didn’t hurt to see.

I wasn’t wrong. After dancing through a handful of songs, I turned away from my friends as I danced, and found a guy watching me. He was dancing with his own group of friends, but his eyes were assessing me. Not only was he watching me, his eyes were focused on my lower half, which was a good indication that he wasn’t only impressed with my dance moves. When his eyes rose and he noticed that I had noticed him, he gave me a crooked smile.

Returning his smile, I committed to my dance, making sure he knew that I wasn’t upset he had been watching me. His eyes lit up, and we exchanged broad grins. It was possible that my plan to have the guys come to me had worked out. However, when he took a step away from his friends, as though he was going to come over and join me in my space on the dance floor, I spun away.

I’d panicked.

I’d never danced with a guy—especially in public. It had occurred to me suddenly that I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that—which was something I should have considered before flirting.

After a moment, I glanced over my shoulder. The guy had disappeared, even though his friends were still dancing together. I’d blown it. The guy might have even been hurt by my actions. With a sigh, I turned back to my friends and continued dancing. Maybe one day I’d be like the two guys from Whitmer Central. Until then, I’d stay in my comfort zone. It wasn’t the worst option.