The gym didn’t even look like a gym anymore. The ceiling glowed from the strings of lights crisscrossing it. I’d never seen the floor so shiny, as if somebody had dumped stardust across it. The booming speakers already pounding with bass welcomed us from all the way from the parking lot, telling us it was gonna be a good night. I froze in the doorway for a second, smoothing out my dress like I hadn’t spent an hour twirling in it at home. Josh was right next to me, tugging at his sleeves like he wanted to crawl inside them and vanish. Cute. He’d worn his hair out tonight instead of in twists, and before I could stop myself, I blurted, “I like your outfit.”
His eyes flicked to mine—surprised, then warm—and that tiny look lit me up more than all the lights in the gym.
“Thanks,” he said, half sheepish. “My mom said it wasn’t dressy enough.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Well, your mom’s wrong.”
That cracked his grin wide open, and I knew right then the night would be everything I imagined it to be.
For some reason, my cousins, Josh’s sister, and about half the senior class bottlenecked around the photo booth. No one was inside, so Josh stepped up, all brave, and signaled for me to join him. My hero. We slid in and snapped a safe, boring picture. Cute, but not Social Bunny material.
“No offense,” I said, checking the strip. “But this is not giving.”
Round two. He loosened up just enough for us to make silly faces, and that one was way better.
“That’s more like it!” I said, handing him his copy.
Then—boom—his arms wrapped around me. Just as fast, he pulled back, looking horrified.
“Sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I just … Uh, thanks?”
“For what?” I asked, grinning like a complete idiot.
“For inviting me. I wasn’t gonna come, but you asked. I’m glad it was you.”
“Someone had to,” I teased, bumping him with my shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”
I spotted Tami getting her pictures taken with Enzo, looking like she’d walked out of a fairytale. The crown should’ve been hers automatically, but instead I cast my vote for Josh. Call it a gift. He needed the cred more than me or Tami. For jester, I picked my zany cousin Arvin—no one else could pull it off better.
Breanna dragged me to the photographer’s station for round three of pictures, and let me just say—no offense to anyone—but no one, and I mean no one, torched a photoshoot like us. If she weren’t my cousin, she’d be my best friend.
The principal finally herded everyone toward the stage to announce the royal court. I found Josh near the front, stiff and out of place. Perfect timing for Arvin to blow a horn so obnoxious it shook the walls. Josh looked irritated at first. But Arvin’s chaos was contagious. Next thing I knew, Josh threw his fist in the air and yelled “WOOO!” so loud my parents could’ve heard it from home. My heart did a somersault. Yes. This was the boy I wanted—the one who wasn’t afraid to have fun.
“Okay…calm down, everyone,” the principal said. “Alright! Welcome to prom, guys!”
Everyone went wild.
“Before we announce the court, let’s give all our nominees a hand.”
“You’re all royalty in my eyes. First up, court jester! Let’s give up for Arvin Murillo!
As expected, the crowd erupted, and my cousin ran on stage like a bat from Forgotten Hollow.
“Congratulations, Arvin. Finally…our royal…Joshua Allen!”
His jaw actually dropped. The applause was lackluster until I screamed for him, and then suddenly everybody chanted his name. Magic. He bounded on stage, crown slightly crooked, and danced around with Arvin like he’d just won a game show.
The music slowed down, and I didn’t even think—I just grabbed Josh’s hand and dragged him to the dance floor. He followed, looking like a deer in headlights, but he scored points for bravery. I slid my hands onto his shoulders, and after a painful pause, he rested his on my waist. Stiff as a statue, but cute. And tragic.
“You know,” I said, trying to break the ice, “your hair looks really good like this.”
His hand twitched like he wasn’t sure if he should touch it or leave it alone.
“Thanks. My mom said twists weren’t fancy enough for prom.”
I rolled my eyes again. “Your mom has a lot of opinions.”
“You have no idea,” he muttered, finally chuckling for real. “She’s sweet, but…always watching. Always talking about how we look and comparing us to other kids. My sisters don’t help either.”
I arched a brow. “Let me guess—Jacqui thinks she’s the main character?”
“You know her,” he said. “And my little sister? She’s on this whole ‘save the planet’ thing. Lectures us about recycling every time we throw something away. And my dad’s blasting music and dancing around the house all the time. It’s just…chaos.”
I laughed. “Okay, that actually sounds fun, though.”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Mostly I just want…” His shoulders finally softened. “I just want peace. Like, space to breathe. That’s all.”
Something about the way he said it hit me harder than I expected. My chaos wasn’t nosy moms or loud music, but it was there in the baby cries at dawn and the tension between my parents I pretend not to see. Chaos didn’t have to be noisy to swallow you whole.
I leaned in, keeping my voice low. “If you come over tomorrow, I’ll show you something that will help block it all out.”
He tilted his head, curious. “Like what?”
“You’ll see,” I teased. “Just trust me.”
And then he smiled—really smiled. Not nervous, not stiff. Just warm and real. His crown dazzling in the light matched his cheer, but I didn’t see royalty. Just Josh: a boy who wanted to breathe. Even as we were still getting to know each other, I already wanted to guard that piece of tranquility he was reaching for.
