Part 5: Twelve Years Later
When Noah and I finally arrived at prom, the gym had been transformed with lights, fabric, flowers, and decorations that were clearly trying very hard to make us forget we were still standing inside a school.
Noah approved.
“Very fancy.”
“You’ve been waiting twelve years. Was it worth it?”
He looked around thoughtfully.
“Ask me after food.”
Naturally.
We took photographs.
Talked to friends.
Ate more snacks than we were supposed to.
Noah spent several minutes explaining to someone why his bow tie had been an excellent early purchase.
Then the music slowed.
He turned toward me.
His expression became serious.
He held out his hand.
“Chrissy.”
I smiled.
“Yes?”
“You owe me.”
“For what?”
“Twelve years.”
I laughed.
“Fine.”
I took his hand.
Five seconds later, he stepped directly on my shoe.
“Ow!”
“That was your fault.”
“How?”
“Your dress is badly designed.”
“You stepped on my foot!”
“There is too much fabric.”
I stared at him.
Then both of us started laughing.
People glanced over.
We didn’t care.
And that became my favorite thing about the entire night.
Nothing extraordinary happened.
The music didn’t stop.
Nobody gathered around us.
Nobody applauded because Noah and I were dancing together.
No one turned our friendship into a performance.
We were simply two eighteen year olds at senior prom.
Two terrible dancers laughing at each other.
Exactly where we had promised to be when we were six.
And somehow, the ordinariness of it made the moment perfect.
