Page 47 of Sending Love Letters to Animals

Davud turned his chair towards the bar and I let him lead the way. Halfway to the bar, Jules’ eyes met mine, and panic flashed across her face. She turned towards the bar, ignoring Connor completely. Did she think I’d make fun of her for getting along with her project partner?

Oh. I realized. They’re talking. That turd thinks I’d tell on her.

The thought made me laugh, but I decided to go along with everything. I wouldn’t say anything to Jules about her and Connor. Even if they were talking about the project and telling each other things about themselves to make writing their essays easier, that wasn’t my business.

Davud and I struggled to find an opening in the crowd around the bar so that we could order, but finally, we managed to squeeze in together between two guys who were standing together, ordering drinks, and a group of girls who were taking pictures for their socials. Right as I approached the bar, the tip of my toe connected with Davud’s wheel, and I stumbled briefly. Unfortunately, I caught myself by grabbing onto one of the guys we were squeezing in next to at the bar.

The guys both turned to see who had body checked them, saw Davud and me, and smiled.

“Sorry!” I gasped. “Crap. I’m so clumsy. Hope I didn’t—”

“It was my fault,” Davud said, his cheeks red. “Sorry.”

“No worries.” The taller of the two guys waved me off. “It happens.”

I smiled, glad I hadn’t tripped into a guy who wanted to prove how tough he was by being a jerk.

“Nice outfits,” the shorter guy smiled at us.

Davud and I looked at each other.

“Yeah. I just threw on the few white things I own.” I laughed.

Davud nodded along and the guys laughed at us.

“I like your t-shirt,” Davud said to the shorter guy.

Glancing over at the shorter guy again I saw that, while his shirt was white as the evening demanded, it had the outline of someone’s hair—maybe a wig?—with a flower stuck in it. Underneath it was the words: A Straight Line. I had no idea if that was a movie or T.V. show, but it was cool.

“Oh,” the shorter guy replied, looking nervous. “I got it from a club.”

“Drag bar?” Davud asked, not the least bit put off.

The two guys exchanged a look. Both of them finally nodded.

“We, uh, went out to Littleburg,” the taller guy said. “It’s an eighteen and up gay bar?”

“Cool,” Davud said, and I nodded along.

“Yeah,” the taller guy responded, his panic melting away. “We wanted to see Bang Bang Baisemoi perform. She’s hilarious.”

“Two milk teas, please!” I hollered to the bartender when it became obvious he had spotted us. “Tapioca pearls, please!”

He gave me a nod, and I turned back to the two guys.

“Littleburg is kind of a long way to go,” I said to them.

“I’ve heard of Bang Bang,” Davud said. “She’s supposed to be the best for hundreds of miles.”

“She is,” the taller guy nodded happily before holding out his hand. “I’m Jude. This is Dalton.”

The four of us took turns shaking hands as Davud and I introduced ourselves to Jude and Dalton. While we waited on our drinks, the two of them told us all about Littleburg and A Straight Line, telling us we had to go. “If we were into it, anyway.” Davud said he’d love to see Bang Bang perform, so I insisted that I get to take him when the time came. All four of us exclaimed “road trip” at the same time, which made us laugh.

When Don’t Start Now by Dua Lipa started playing, Dalton apologized before he dragged Jude towards the dance floor, leaving Davud and I waiting for our drinks by ourselves.

“They seemed nice,” I said.

“Isn’t that Jude guy the one who, like, nearly took down the man over at Whitmer?” Davud asked right as our drinks arrived.