her head but stayed quiet as we walked toward the small gym. When she opened the door to the junior high girls’ locker room, I stalled. Memories of the homecoming game and the devastation of that night washed over me. This time, all four of my friends, plus Casey, were there.
“What’s going on?” I asked apprehensively.
Zara’s voice answered me. “You’re getting dressed up.”
“What?” I asked.
“Just go with it,” Ginger said.
“Trust us,” Jordan added.
I turned to Casey. “What are you doing here?”
She smiled sheepishly. “They recruited Aiden, and I wanted to help.”
I went to her and hugged her. “I love you.” I couldn’t imagine a better person for my little brother to be with.
She squeezed me back, sniffling.
“No time for this!” Zara said, tugging my arm. “We’ve got to get you ready.”
“For what?” I asked again.
Zara wagged her finger, letting me know there was no way I could get any intel out of them. All there was left to do was sit back and watch my transformation take place.
Instead of curling my hair, Zara feathered her fingers through the strands, forming a delicate braid. Jordan painted my face with a smoky eye and lengthened my lashes with dark mascara. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I could see the beauty there that they’d amplified in each of my features.
Finally, Casey held out my dress, the homecoming gown I’d only worn once, and not to dance in.
“Seriously?” I asked, a blend of giddy anticipation spreading through me.
Casey nodded and helped me into the gown. Each moment as the silk slipped over my head was pure therapy, replacing every ugly moment with one of hope and possibility.
“Look at you!” Callie breathed.
I examined myself in the mirror, a living picture of beauty. Of becoming.
“Now,” Jordan said, holding open the locker room door. “Prince Charming awaits.”
They led me down the hallway, back to the AV room. Giving them a sideways glance, I pushed open the door and couldn’t believe what I saw.
The entire room had been transformed. Gauzy curtains covered the walls of VHS tapes. The TV carts had been moved or hidden. A camera and lights setup stood in the corner, and on the other, speakers softly played slow, sweet music.
And finally, my eyes landed on Beckett.
He was dressed in a suit that fit him better than I knew a suit could fit anyone. He stepped forward, his hand extended.
I placed my fingers in his, holding on to the centered way he made me feel. “What is all of this?” I asked.
He brushed his free hand along the sweeping strands in my braid. “I didn’t get to dance with you at homecoming. I want to fix that.”
My heart swelled, spilled over into the world’s widest grin. “This is for me?”
He nodded. “For us.”
If I thought I couldn’t be any happier than a second ago, he’d just proven me wrong.
He led me in front of the camera and took a series of photos with me, just like I’d seen couples do at homecoming dances before.
And then he led me to the “dance floor,” a small patch of tile near the speakers. “May I have this dance?”
“Of course,” I breathed.
He swept me into his chest, holding me to him and slowly moving to the music. I leaned into his shoulder and glanced toward the door. My friends were there, grinning, supporting us—supporting me. But eventually, they left too, and it was just Beckett and me living in this wonderful, perfect moment he’d created for us.
“This is amazing,” I said as the next song started. “You’re amazing.”
“I have to be,” he said, the vibrations of his voice humming around me. “I have a pretty amazing girlfriend.”
I smiled, but my lips faltered. “Your dad probably doesn’t think so. Are you sure he’s okay with me coming over tonight?”
He nodded, still swaying us back and forth. “He sees that you make me better.”
That surprised me. “What do you mean?”
“It means”—he looked me in the eyes—“that I finally stood up to him.”
My mind reeled with shock. “What? You didn’t tell me.”
“I got my acceptance letter to NYU Thursday.” The words poured out of him like he couldn’t stand holding them in any longer. “I told him everything. That I wasn’t playing football and I was studying photography instead.”
“And?” I asked. “How did he take it?”
“He was upset, reminded me that after I get my degree I’ll be on my own financially, but he respected me for finally standing my ground.”
It was hardly possible, but I held him even