I froze.
I had never told him that.
Before I could ask how he knew, the bell rang, and I heard myself say yes.
When I told my best friend Sasha Gillespie, she immediately frowned.
“Be careful,” she warned.
“Why?”
“Because guys like Jonathan don’t usually make decisions like this out of nowhere.”
I laughed it off.
I thought she was being overly suspicious.
My mother took in a mint-green dress from the thrift store and stayed up two nights hemming it by hand.
When I stepped out in it, she covered her mouth with both hands and cried.
“You look just like him when he smiled,” she said.
Prom night felt like something out of a dream.
Jonathan arrived at our door at six o’clock sharp, in a dark suit and a burgundy tie, holding a wrist corsage of white roses.
He complimented my dress.
He shook my mother’s hand and called her Mrs. Talbot.
