I made my way down the familiar corridor, watching a robin flit from open window to open window. His bold brassy chest stuck out for all to see.
"So?" I whispered. "How did it go?"
The robin cocked his head before directing his beak down to his feet. Not well. She didn't go for it.
"You sang her the song we practiced?" I'd spent a few hours researching robin mating whistles, and then we'd practiced for almost as long. This was the robin's first mating season, and he was understandably nervous.
The robin dropped down to perch on my shoulder. Twice. The first time I thought I had it, but then that other male came around and opened his beak and— The robin ruffled his feathers and shook his head.
"Well, you still look good. And now you know what to do for the next one." His instincts would kicked in eventually, but I didn't mind helping the robin out. I understood his nervousness; I now knew more about robin mating rituals than I did a human's. I still had years to figure that stuff out, but I knew I was behind the other seniors. Even though, at eighteen, I was one of the oldest in my class.
The year was nearly over now, the commencement ceremony was tomorrow, and I was facing a scary, exciting prospect. The world alone. My mother was gone and buried, and I'd visited her grave several times since. We talked. Or I talked while trying to ignore the chatter around me. And while trying not to cry. Or at least not sob. I missed her every day. Some days more. Some days…not less, but at an intensity that was easier to think around.
I'll never find another as beautiful as she was. The robin moaned, grinding his beak together. A bosom like peaches. Sleek stone-colored wings with that saucy flash of cream… He shook, and I brushed the downy feathers from my sleeve. She's a beauty the likes of which will never be seen aga—
A second robin landed on the window several feet ahead. She cocked her head back and forth, staring and waiting expectantly. This wasn't the same one he'd been courting—she had a paler chest area—but as attractive robins went, she was a vision. I glanced down. "Too bad you're—"
Before I could finish, the robin took off. He landed several inches away, throat expanding as he let out a gorgeous whistle. If that didn't attract her, I didn't know what else would.
With a job well done, I took the door on the left into the choir room where Mr. Grouse had my cap and robe. Originally, I didn't think I'd be able to afford them, but Mr. Grouse had stepped in, ordering the uniform for me as a graduation gift.
Mr. Grouse had been a lifesaver during my senior year—and all the years before that while my mother had been sick. He was always giving me extra food or letting me stay late in the choir room in the evenings when I didn't have anyone at home to go back to. Towards the end, my mom spent most of her time in the hospital, and I hated those long, quiet evenings in the empty house.
I'd be saying goodbye to Mr. Grouse tomorrow as well. Him, this town, the memories. Nothing kept me in Yamitt. I had no extended family other than an aunt I'd never spoken to. I'd gotten my acceptance to the San Francisco School of Veterinary Medicine late in the year and still hadn't told anyone. The college was rare in that it accepted freshmen students, tailoring their education toward veterinary medicine from the first class and onto graduation.
A full scholarship. My stomach flipped like a crocodile in a death roll. In between practicing robin mating whistles, I'd been glued to the university website, staring at the sunny, meticulously landscaped pictures of the campus and the dorm rooms. So many happy, smiling faces. I couldn't be alone there, not with so many other students. They didn't even have to be my friends. Just having other people near would be nice.
"Mr. Grouse?" No one was in the larger choir room, and I took a moment to reminisce while staring at the rows of empty seats. My chair had always been with the other tenors, front and center. Mr. Grouse had said he liked hearing my voice loudest.
I didn't hear him answer and figured he must have been back in the office. The light was on, so I knocked softly