53

It starts with Egypt screaming.

"IF YOU DON'T COME OUT OF THAT SHOWER IN TWO MINUTES, I'M DRAGGING YOU OUT WITH CONDITIONER IN YOUR HAIR."

India's already taken over my bed with what looks like half of Sephora.

"You moisturized?" she yells.

"Double cleanse?"

"Did you exfoliate your soul, Senna?"

I poke my head out of the bathroom, face still damp.

"You two are insane."

"We are your insane best friends," India says, snapping her bubblegum. "And it's prom, baby. This is girlhood in full HD."

They brought three ring lights, four curling wands, a speaker blasting Kehlani, and three hair bonnets just in case I backed out and tried to go to prom in one.

I'm not allowed to move. Or think. Or question the process.

Egypt starts on my hair like she's entering a sacred rite.

"You ready to be the hottest person in that overpriced ballroom?"

"Slightly," I mumble.

"You ready to ruin every boy's night and make their girlfriends jealous?"

"Egypt."

"You ready to make that rich white boy cry a little when he sees you?"

Okay. That one makes me grin.

India is contouring my face like she's doing surgery.

She says nothing for a while, then glances at me in the mirror.

"You good?"

I nod.

"I'm just... nervous."

She pauses.

"About prom?"

"About being seen."

They both go quiet.

And then, as always, Egypt breaks the silence with:

"Well, too bad. You're gonna be seen. You're gonna be adored. And you're gonna slay, Senna."

India adds softly, "You don't have to earn this. Just exist in it."

The dress goes on last.

Champagne gold. Soft. Off-the-shoulder. It fits like it was sewn by angels with taste.

They won't let me look in the mirror yet.

There's chaos behind me - perfume being sprayed, last-minute jewelry options, Egypt tripping over a box of safety pins.

And then India steps back, puts both hands on my shoulders, and says:

"Okay. Look."

I open my eyes.

And suddenly I can't breathe.

Not in the bad way.

In the oh my God, I'm beautiful way.

I don't see the girl who used to flinch at compliments.

I don't see the ghost who avoided mirrors for years.

I see someone who looks... happy.

I don't cry.

But I almost do.

"Sen," Egypt whispers, teary-eyed. "You look like the version of you I prayed for when you were hurting."

India hands me lip gloss and a tissue.

"If he doesn't cry when he sees you, we're going back home."

My phone buzzes.

Luca:

I'm standing outside and I feel like I'm gonna pass out.

If you walk out and I say something dumb like "hi arms," pretend it was charming.

Luca:

You're gonna be the most beautiful person in the world and I'm not emotionally ready.

Also. I love you.

That's it. That's the message.

I grin like an idiot.

Egypt reads over my shoulder and screams.

"HE SAID HE LOVES YOU IN A PROM TEXT."

India's already running to the window.

"He's outside in a suit. He looks like a prom-themed Disney prince."

"We approve," Egypt says, pushing me toward the door. "Now go ruin his life a little."

As I step into the night, dress swishing around my ankles, curls shining under the porch light-

-I see Luca.

And he sees me.

And for one long second, neither of us speaks.

Then he exhales, slow and wrecked.

"Holy shit."

I smile.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I've been pacing outside her house for twenty-three minutes.

My palms are sweating. I forgot how to stand normally. My tie feels like a noose. I'm holding the corsage like it might bite me.

Auggie is filming me.

"Say hi to TikTok, Stairboy."

Bear is behind him, grinning way too hard.

"You're gonna cry when you see her."

"I'm not gonna cry," I lie.

Senna's front door opens.

And the world stops.

She steps out like the entire sky rearranged itself just for her.

Champagne gold dress. Long curls shining like they carry sunlight. Eyes I would build churches for. A smile so soft I feel like I've already died and come back to this moment just to get it right.

My breath catches.

My vision goes blurry.

My chest. My chest hurts.

Oh no.

"Dude," Bear whispers. "You're literally crying already."

I don't care.

I've never seen anything so beautiful.

Not in any museum. Not in any painting. Not even in my own sketchbook.

And I've drawn her so many times.

But nothing compares to the real thing.

She walks toward me, and the only thing I manage to say is:

"Holy sh*t."

Her parents are behind her, both dressed up too, beaming like royalty.

Her mom wipes a tear from her cheek.

Her dad crosses his arms, nodding once like yeah, that's my daughter.

Then immediately pulls out his phone.

So does her mom.

So do the boys.

"Senna, turn your head-no the other way-"

"Luca, don't just stand there like a soggy noodle, put the corsage on her!"

"Hold her hand! Yes! THAT'S THE ANGLE!"

Senna is laughing. Blushing. Glowing.

India and Egypt show up five minutes later and immediately begin sobbing.

"YOU LOOK LIKE YOU INVENTED GRACE."

"WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT SINCE THE SEVENTH GRADE."

I finally find my voice.

"You... you're-"

Senna tilts her head.

"Still alive?"

"Barely."

I hold out the corsage. My fingers are shaking. I slide it onto her wrist like she's made of silk.

"You okay?" she asks softly.

"I think I'm in love with you and also possibly in cardiac arrest."

She smiles.

"Good."

We take a few more pictures. Well- a lot more. Her parents aren't letting us escape until we've been documented from every angle like it's the royal wedding.

Her dad pulls me aside right before we leave.

"You make her happy?"

"Yes, sir."

"You ever stop?"

"Never."

He nods again. This time slower.

"Good."

When we finally get into the limo, Senna turns to me, looking nervous.

"Too much?" she asks, tugging at the neckline of her dress.

I shake my head slowly, still trying to form real words.

"Not enough. I want the world to see you."

She leans into my shoulder. I rest my forehead against hers.

"You're really crying," she whispers.

"I warned you."

She laughs.

"You look like you just saw heaven."

"I did."

And when the car pulls away from her street, I glance back one last time.

Her mom's still waving.

Auggie's holding up a sign that says "NO FUNNY BUSINESS."

And I swear Bear is doing a happy dance in the yard.

But all I can think about is the girl beside me.

The girl I get to take to prom.

The girl I fell in love with in silence under a stairwell.

And tonight...

The whole world gets to see what I've known from the beginning.

Senna. In gold. Glowing.

Mine.