Page 57 of Sending Love Letters to Animals

I glanced over my shoulder at where Davud’s chair had been.

The aisle was empty, which was how I felt inside.

“You know,” Chris drew my attention back, my head turning lazily to look at him. “If we’ve learned nothing else over the last four years—you should tell people how you feel. What’s going on up here.”

He tapped the side of his head.

“Well, yeah.” I shrugged.

Chris rolled his eyes and looked at me like I was dense. Maybe I was.

“He couldn’t have gotten too far. It’s been less than a minute,” Chris said, nudging me in the arm. “If you hurry, you can probably catch him before he texts his mom.”

I coughed, wondering if anyone else had noticed how I felt about Davud. Chris stared at me.

“Ryan,” he said. “If you had told me your concerns four years ago, I wouldn’t have hated you. I would have understood. And we would have been friends all along.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, nudging me again. “The worst he can say is ‘no.’”

I slowly started to nod.

“You’ll be okay here?” I asked.

“It’s Broadway,” he said with a wicked smile. “I’ll be miserable.”

I laughed.

“But go. Please.”

I popped out of my seat. All of my friends were looking at me suddenly.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling down at Chris. “For understanding, I mean.”

“Thanks for being honest,” he said back. “This time.”

I rolled my eyes and my cheeks felt warm, but I knew he was only teasing. Giving him a quick wave, I knew Chris would give all of my other friends some excuse for why I had to leave so quickly.

My intention was to race out of the auditorium and chase Davud down before he could text his mom to come get him. However, I’d barely ran ten feet before a pair of arms were wrapping me up and pulling me in for a hug. When I was released, I saw that Mom was standing before me, with Dad right behind her.

“Public hug achieved!” Mom crowed.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” I gasped.

“How could we not come watch the recital you helped organize?” she asked incredulously. “I can’t wait to see what you and Mr. Melvin have done!”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Yeah.”

“Where are you headed?” Mom frowned. “You weren’t leaving, were you?”

“I, uh,” I glanced at the auditorium doors.

“Ryan?” Dad asked, concern etched all over his face. “What’s wrong son?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Promise. I just…”

Mom and Dad both stared at me the way only parents can when they think you’re on drugs.