“Fine,” she said, lowering her plate. “You look more like yourself than you have in a long time.”
I looked back at the mirror.
**
By senior year, everyone at school knew I was gay. Some people supported me. Others spent four years reminding me I only belonged when I made myself easy to ignore.
“What if they laugh?” I asked.
“Then they have boring lives, D.”
“Jada…”
She stood behind me. “You’ve survived four years of whispers and fake jokes. Tonight, you get to walk in as yourself.”
I smoothed the skirt again.
“Stop it. You look lovely.”
The doorbell rang downstairs.
My stomach tightened so fast that I pressed one hand to the dress again.
I let go. “What if he thinks it’s too much?”
“Noah?” She gave me a look. “The boy who saves your coffee order in his phone like it’s a medical allergy?”
“That doesn’t mean he’s ready to walk into prom with me like this.”
