Page 54 of Sending Love Letters to Animals

Mrs. Hopkins told Mr. Melvin that she had played the songs so many times during rehearsal that she could probably play them without the sheet music. That did nothing to calm him down. Though she should have been offended at the insinuation that she wasn’t good enough at her job to do such a thing, she simply shrugged it off.

Fortunately, right after Mr. Melvin had started theorizing about homophobic parents out to get him, Vice Principal Chambers popped in backstage with the sheet music. Apparently, Mr. Melvin had left the stack of papers in the teacher’s lounge after school.

Though Mr. Melvin tried to play off his dramatics over the last several minutes—pretending he hadn’t really been that worried—the rest of us knew better. If Vice Principal Chambers hadn’t shown up when she did, the man probably would’ve set the auditorium on fire so everyone had to leave. Simply to save face. He couldn’t be blamed for a ruined spring recital if the auditorium mysteriously burned to the ground, canceling the whole thing.

Finally, with sheet music handed off to Mrs. Hopkins, Mr. Melvin told everyone to go “warm up.” I wasn’t a performer, but I took that as my cue to get out of his sight as well. However, as everyone dashed away to go through their vocal warmups—of which I knew nothing—Mr. Melvin grabbed ahold of my elbow. I could hear everyone out in the auditorium beyond the stage curtain. A lively group of people excited to see their friends or family members sing for them was waiting. Somewhere out there, Chris was waiting for me to come sit with him and watch the show.

“Ryan,” Mr. Melvin muttered anxiously, “if these idiots miss their cue and start singing off key or off beat, I expect you to pull the nearest fire alarm.”

I laughed nervously, unsure if Mr. Melvin was kidding or not.

“That’s kind of a crime, sir.”

“Then just scream ‘fire’ instead, will you?” He asked quickly.

“Mr. Melvin,” I said as I slipped my arm out of his hand, “it’s going to be okay.”

He grumbled cantankerously, his woebegone expression inspiring deep pity from me. However, I knew that Mr. Melvin’s concerns were unfounded. It was only a spring recital at A.M. Whitemane. No one expected anything extraordinary—even if A Night on Broadway was the theme.

“Sir,” I said, “the parents are just here because they have to be. They’ll just be happy to see their kids perform and then get to leave as soon as possible. The other students are here hoping something will go wrong so they can joke about it later. No matter what happens, everyone will be fine with it.”

Mr. Melvin looked thoughtful.

“So,” he said, “it might actually be a bigger hit around school if it turns out awful?”

I shrugged. “Probably? But if not, people will be happy with it, too. You’re worried about nothing. Besides, at the last rehearsal, everything went well. Everyone sounded…acceptable.”

Slowly, Mr. Melvin nodded along to the logic I was throwing at him. Finally, after a few moments of considering what I’d had to say, he gave me a smile.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he said. “Of course, you’re right.”

I smiled back.

“Ryan,” he said, “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it, but thank you. You’ve been a big help.”

“I haven’t done much,” I said. “But you’re welcome.”

Mr. Melvin gave me a firm pat on the shoulder.

“Do you mind if I go?” I asked. “One of my friends is meeting me so we can sit and watch together.”

“Sure, sure,” he waved me off excitedly. “Go out there and enjoy the show.”

“Okay,” I said, already heading towards the door that led to stairs down into the auditorium. “Good luck, Mr. Melvin.”

“Thank you!”

Then he was dashing off to check on the performers. I exited backstage into the auditorium. Several people turned to see who was coming from the stage area, but once they saw who it was, they went back to minding their own business. Glancing around the auditorium, it was obvious we hadn’t garnered as much attention as Mr. Melvin had hoped. At best, the auditorium was at half-capacity. I didn’t worry about it. Either way, the show was going to be performed, everyone would love or hate it, and then we could all go home.

Fortunately, with a half-full auditorium, it was easy to spot Chris. The fact that he was in the front row—along with Jules, Connor, Elijah, Liam, Aubrey, and Daniel made it even easier. They had saved me the seat on the aisle. Even Davud had parked his wheelchair in the aisle next to my seat. The thought of having Chris sitting next to me and Davud on the other side made me smile. Seeing all of my other friends was confusing, though.

“We thought we’d come support you,” Jules said as I approached them and she noticed my confused look. “You raging musical theater geek.”

All of my friends laughed at her.

“That…that was really nice of you guys,” I said. “Thanks.”

“Eh,” Liam spoke up for them. “You always come to LKC for us and stuff. The least we could do was sit through an hour of this crap.”