Page 58 of Sending Love Letters to Animals

“I need to go see about a guy,” I said.

It took the two of them a minute, but looks of recognition finally appeared on their faces. Mom started to say something—probably an embarrassing thing about young love, but Dad stopped her.

“We’ll just go find a seat,” he said.

Mom pressed her lips back together.

“Okay,” I said, beginning to step away.

“We’ll see you after the recital, okay?” he asked.

“Sure thing!” I said as I dashed away. “Enjoy the music!”

Looking over my shoulder to see what Mom and Dad were doing as I raced away didn’t even cross my mind. All I could think about was finding Davud. I wasn’t going to make the mistake of not telling the most important person to me how I felt and what I was thinking. Even if I was wrong, it wouldn’t be worse than spending years wondering what he thought and felt. I wouldn’t have to wonder if I’d made the wrong decision.

Pushing through the double doors out into the main hallway, my head whipped back and forth, searching for Davud. He was nowhere in sight. I raced to the front doors and pushed through. I figured he was out on the front walk, sitting and waiting for his mom. However, the walkway was clear. All of the cars out in the lot were dark and empty, all of their owners were inside, seated in the auditorium. As I looked around frantically, I could hear You Can’t Stop the Beat begin inside, and the audience clapping.

My heart sunk into my stomach. Davud was gone. He had probably texted his mom long before he went outside and she had been waiting to pick him up. I’d lost my opportunity to tell him—the moment I realized it—how I felt about him. It didn’t even matter if he didn’t feel the same way. I had needed to tell him. Right then. But that chance was gone. Once again, I had screwed myself over by keeping my feelings to myself.

I kicked at the sidewalk with the toe of my shoe.

“You’re missing the recital.” Davud’s voice came from behind me. “Mr. Melvin will be pissed.”

I spun on my heels to find Davud right outside of the front doors, staring at me.

“After all that work, you should be enjoying it,” he added.

“Where’d you go?” I asked.

“Thought I’d take a leak before I texted mom,” he said. “It’s a fifteen-minute ride, after all. Didn’t want to hold it that long.”

I nodded.

“So?” Davud asked. “Why aren’t you in there with Chris?”

“Uh,” I kicked at the sidewalk again, trying to find my courage. And the right words.

“Yeah?”

Screw it, I thought.

“So,” I said, “it kind of dawned on me that if Chris wants to, like, date and stuff, I don’t really know what I’m doing, right?”

“I guess?” Davud’s brow rose.

“Like, I’ve never even held hands with a dude. Until tonight. I’ve definitely never even kissed a guy.”

“It can’t be that difficult to figure out,” Davud said.

“True,” I agreed. “But I was thinking about that movie? Some Kind of Wonderful? It made me think—maybe if I practiced first, that would be best.”

Davud looked at me quizzically.

“And, well, I wanted to know if maybe you’d be into helping me practice,” I said. “Just, you know, to make sure I know what I’m doing.”

Davud didn’t answer me. His eyes went to his lap.

“I guess I got to thinking about the last few months,” I said gently. “How you kind of…you’ve been sending a lot of letters.”