Chapter 33
Lily
The gym doors swung open, and for the first time in my life, I walked into a prom.
It hit me all at once—the glittering streamers, the balloon arch, the hum of voices threaded with bursts of laughter. The thump of bass under twinkling lights. The smell of hairspray, floor wax, and too much cologne.
My chest tightened. I’d seen nights like this from the outside before. I’d seen it in movies. I’d told myself it didn’t matter, that I didn’t need it. But standing here now, surrounded by sequins and smiles, I felt the ache of everything I’d missed.
My pulse fluttered wildly, nerves and wonder tangling, until—
“LILY!” Sarah barreled into me, crushing hug and all. She grabbed my hands and spun me once to see the dress. “Okay, excuse me, Miss Gorgeous—look at you.”
Ben whistled low. “Prom just got an upgrade.”
Nate tipped an invisible hat. “Careful, folks, she’s about to set off the sprinkler system.”
I laughed, dizzy-happy, and then my eyes snagged on the person I’d been pretending not to look for.
Ethan stood a step behind the guys, shirt sleeves rolled, tie neat.
When our eyes met, something electric passed between us—a current neither of us acknowledged aloud—before he broke the connection with a small cough and turned his attention elsewhere.
“Okay, but—” Rachel pointed upward. “Please tell me you clocked the theme.”
I followed her finger to the banner stretched above the stage in glitter paint: TAKE MY brEATH AWAY.
A laugh burst out of me. “Top Gun. They actually did it.”
Matt clapped once, already grinning. “Alright, settle a bet—favorite Top Gun moment?”
Maggie answered before he’d finished. “The volleyball scene. Obviously.” She pointed at Ben’s tux sleeves. “You wish you had Maverick’s serve.”
Rachel sighed like she’d been waiting years to confess it. “The love scene. Right? That song? Instant goosebumps.”
Ben elbowed Nate, too loud: “I feel the need—”
“—the need for speed!” Nate finished, high-fiving Ben.
Sarah rolled her eyes at the boys. “Um, hello? Did you forget about Goose?” She flicked a warning glance at Ben. “Don’t make me debate you in the middle of prom.”
They all swung to me. I lifted my brows, playing it up. “Easy. The bar serenade—‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling.’ So adorable.”
Blank looks from some, groans from the guys.
I threw my hands up. “Come on, you know the scene! Maverick and Goose spot this girl at the bar, right? And instead of some lame pickup line, they rally the entire squadron. The whole group belts out a cheesy sixties ballad, off-key and way too loud. The girl is mortified, but she’s laughing too.
And for one ridiculous moment, the whole bar is in on it. Just pure bold, shameless fun.”
I leaned in, grinning. “That’s the good stuff. Risking embarrassment to make someone feel like they’re the only one in the room.”
More groans. “Trash.”
“Would never work.”
I wagged a finger. “Don’t underestimate the power of karaoke charm, gentlemen. Under the right lights? With the right song? For the right girl?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I felt rather than saw Ethan—still, watchful. When I glanced over, he’d already looked away, like he had punch bowls to inspect. Fine. I had a dance floor to conquer.
“Alright, team,” Sarah said, clapping. “Let’s hype these kids onto the floor. Lily, you’re with me.”
And then we were moving—into the lights, into the night I’d never had, finally mine.
Being the life of the party was easier than thinking too hard.
I made my rounds, laughing, complimenting dresses, nudging kids toward the dance floor when they hovered awkwardly by the bleachers.
Matt caught two sophomores trying to sneak outside and marched them back in like a drill sergeant.
Nate kept muttering about guarding the punch bowl from “repeat offenders.” Sarah clapped her hands and shouted at a cluster of kids to get moving, and somehow, by the time I swooped in with a joke and a wink, they were dancing.
It was chaos, but fun chaos. My kind of chaos.
Then Kayla came bounding over, dress swishing, cheeks flushed. “He asked me to dance,” she whispered, like it was top secret.
I gasped. “Shut up. No way. You’re glowing. Look at you!” I fussed over her dress, fixed the bow on her wrist corsage, hugged her tight like a proud big sister. “This is your night. Go twirl until you can’t feel your toes.”
She giggled and darted back to Jason, who was waiting nervously at the edge of the floor. My chest squeezed at the sight—sweet, simple, everything high school should be.
And when I glanced sideways, I caught Ethan watching. He didn’t smile. But he didn’t look away, either. My heart quickened, a pulse of excitement coursing through my veins.
The rest of the night spun out in a blur of lights and laughter. Kayla and Jason survived their first slow dance, stiff arms and nervous smiles, and now they couldn’t seem to stop. Song after song, they drifted back to each other, swaying like the rest of the gym didn’t exist.
The DJ cranked “C’mon N’ Ride It (The Train)” and yelled, “All aboard!”—and the whole gym shifted.
Rows formed fast. Stomp-stomp—slide. Heel-toe, heel-toe, quarter turn.
Arms up in that goofy “pull the horn” move, everyone chanting the hook.
Sarah and I were dead in sync, Maggie whooped on the turn, and even Nate nailed the stomp-snap.
Kayla and Jason fell into the line behind us, laughing as they caught the steps, and suddenly the floor was one long train, snaking across the gym in perfect time.
By the time the gym floor had settled again, the balloon arch sagging a little, the DJ slid into something softer. A ripple went through the room as the first notes filled the air.
“Take My Breath Away”—the theme song from Top Gun. The last slow dance of the night.
The air softened, voices dropped, bodies paired off into slow, swaying circles.
I turned, expecting to grab Sarah or Maggie, but Sarah was already tucked against Matt’s chest, laughing at something he whispered, and Maggie had vanished into the crush of couples. Rachel was still with Ben, moving slow and steady, their heads tipped together in a way that made my eyebrows lift.
And then there was Ethan.
He stood at the edge of the floor, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders set like he’d been drafted into this gym against his will. I thought about letting him stay there. Pretend to be invisible. Let the song slip past.
But not tonight.
“Come on,” I said, stepping up to Ethan. “You’re not hiding during the best song of the night.”
“I don’t dance,” he muttered.
“Everyone dances at prom,” I shot back, holding out my hand. “Even you.”
For a heartbeat, I thought he’d refuse. Then, with a sigh that sounded put-upon but wasn’t fooling me, he took my hand. His palm was warm, steady, and when it settled against my back, my breath snagged.
His hand hovered at my waist, barely touching the fabric of my dress, like he was afraid I might shatter.
I kept a careful inch between us as we swayed, neither wanting to be the first to close the gap.
But then he looked at me, really looked, and something gave way.
My pulse skipped. The gym faded until there was just the warmth radiating from his palm, his eyes on mine, the scent of something clean and familiar drawing me closer despite myself.
It was almost too much. Which is probably why I whispered, “You’ve barely looked at me the past two days.” My voice cracked before I could stop it. “What did I do?”
His jaw tightened. He didn’t answer right away, like he was searching for words he didn’t want to give me. Finally, he said, “You didn’t do anything. I just… I want to know you, Lily. All of you. And you won’t let me.”
The words hit sharp, like a secret I wasn’t ready for. My chest went tight, my smile faltered. “Why does it matter?” I said, a little too quickly. “I’m leaving in August anyway. Who cares?”
He stopped moving. Just… stopped. The song kept playing, couples kept spinning around us, but Ethan stood still, looking at me with something raw and unguarded in his eyes.
“I do.”
The words were low, final, and before I could say anything back, he let go. Turned. Walked away.
I stood there, frozen in the middle of the dance floor, laughter and music swirling like nothing had changed. But it had. Something had cracked open, and I didn’t know if I could ever put it back the way it was.