“I-I need to go home,” he stammered. “My mom just texted me. She says she doesn’t want me to stay out too late.” “Oh, I get it,” David said, the confusion vanishing from his face only to be replaced by worry. He turned toward Katie. “Quinn has had an… argument with his mom, and it’s been bumming him out.” Quinn nodded, relieved. “Yes, it’s been weighing on my mind,” he managed to say. “Oh. Well, good luck with your mom,” Katie said, still staring at him. David nodded and stood up. “I can drive you back with you if you want.” Quinn shook his head quickly. “No, I’ll be ok by myself! Plus, I just got here.” David looked perplexed. “Dude, are you sure? This is kinda far away from your house.” “Yeah, I’m fine! Thank you, though!” Quinn answered with a poor attempt at a smile. “I’ll see you guys later!” He waved goodbye to Katie and David, and practically ran out of the house, barely remembering to take his coat with him. Why didn’t you just take his offer, you idiot? Quinn chastised himself. Now Mom’s going to be pissed at you for being so late. But Quinn knew he would be unable to control his feelings around anyone, let alone David right now. He practically sprinted all the way home, barely registering his surroundings as he made his way back. When he got home, his mother was furious at him, like he predicted, but he was barely paying attention to her berating him. All he could think about was how David and Katie were probably making out at the party. His mom finally demanded that he go up to his room. Quinn trudged up the stairs and slammed his door shut. His eyes flickered to the trash can near his desk, which was filled with wadded-up letters that he had written with the intention of giving to David. Quinn made his way over to his desk and sat down. He scooted up his chair as he warily picked up a clean sheet of paper and his worn-down pencil. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and then, he pressed the pencil against the paper and began to write. “Dear David, I know that you probably think I’m really odd for writing you this letter. Only weirdos like me would write a letter like this after all. You probably think that I’m a freak for a bunch of other reasons too, like the fact that I’m-" Quinn stared down at the words he just wrote. He then violently erased the page until it ripped apart. He stared down and swallowed hard as his head swirled. His lip began to quiver. Tears slipped down his nose and splattered onto the paper. What was wrong with him? Why was he doing this? What was even the point of writing stupid letter that no one would ever bother reading anyway? Quinn finally surrendered, crumbled up the worn sheet of paper, and unceremoniously threw it in the trash. He could feel a hard lump forming in the back of his throat.
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