Ten Years Ago

If you had told me a year ago that this—this—would be our normal, I would've laughed in your face.

Us. Popular. Sitting at the center table in the cafeteria like it belonged to us. People waving when they passed, cheerleaders blowing kisses like we were in some low-budget teen movie. Luke leaning back in his chair like he hadn't once alphabetized his lunch. Josh wearing his football jacket like it had always been meant for him. Maya glowing because she was always glowing when she had a new crush. Henry... well. Henry was still Henry. Soft, loyal, hopelessly in love.

Some things didn't change.

The cheerleaders pass again, louder this time.

"Hi, Luke," one of them sings.

Another blows Josh a kiss. A third winks at Henry.

Maya stabs her salad aggressively. "Okay. This is officially getting annoying."

Josh grins. "You're jealous."

"I am not jealous," she snaps. "I just want them to either talk to you or stop hovering like decorative birds."

"They've been doing this forever," I add. "At least six months."

"More," Luke says absently, poking at his food. "Let them be. It's harmless."

Henry straightens, hand over his chest like he's swearing an oath. "Besides, my heart belongs to Sophia."

Josh snorts. "Please. One smile from one of those girls and you'd forget Sophia's name."

Henry looks genuinely offended. "Do not underestimate the power of love."

I laugh. "Wow. You're down bad."

Josh groans. "This is disgusting. You're seventeen, not married. It makes me want to vomit."

"Oh, karma is coming for you," I tell him sweetly. "One day you'll be worse than him."

Josh points at me. "Never. There is no girl on this planet who will make me want to settle down. I'm a lone wolf."

Luke smirks. "Sure you are."

"I'm serious," Josh insists. "Football career. Hot chicks. Freedom."

Maya claps slowly. "Inspiring."

We dissolve into laughter, the sound loud enough that people look over—and then smile, because that's what they do now.

Then Henry goes quiet.

I notice immediately. We all do.

He's staring across the cafeteria, eyes fixed on one person. Sophia. Sitting with her friends, laughing, completely unaware she's the center of Henry's universe.

Maya follows his gaze and softens. "Okay," she says gently. "It's prom season. This is your moment."

Henry swallows. "I can't just—ask her."

"Yes, you can," Luke says, calm but firm. "You just go up and say it."

Henry shakes his head. "What if she says no?"

Josh shrugs. "Then you survive."

Henry looks unconvinced.

I lean forward, elbows on the table. "Henry, you've liked her since forever. Prom is the perfect excuse. It's romantic. It's expected. It's safe."

Maya nods enthusiastically. "You don't even have to confess everything. Just say you'd like to take her."

"And if she says yes," Josh adds, "you win."

"And if she says no," Luke says quietly, "you'll still be okay."

Henry exhales, fingers tightening around his cup. "I really like her."

"We know," I say softly.

He nods, like he's bracing himself. "Okay. Prom."

Josh raises his cup. "To Henry. Future prom king."

Henry laughs, embarrassed but smiling, and clinks his cup against ours.

If there was one thing we were excellent at, it was turning someone else's emotional crisis into a full-scale operation.

Henry's promposal had officially become a mission.

We spent the entire afternoon in my room, supplies spread everywhere—cardboard, markers, glitter Maya definitely stole from the art room, and Josh arguing that glitter was "a crime against humanity."

"It's romantic," Maya insisted, shaking the container like a threat.

"It's itchy," Josh shot back.

Luke, seated on the floor with a ruler and terrifying focus, said, "If you're going to use glitter, at least keep it symmetrical."

I stared at him. "You're helping."

He didn't look up. "I'm ensuring structural dignity."

Henry hovered near the door, hands twisting together. "Do you think this is... too much?"

"No," I said immediately.

"Yes," Josh said at the exact same time.

Maya and I glared at Josh.

"It's perfect," Maya corrected. "Girls love effort."

Luke finally held the sign up. Big block letters, clean lines, annoyingly perfect:

Sophia, will you go to prom with me?

Henry's eyes actually got watery. "You guys..."

"Don't cry," Josh warned. "I will absolutely mock you."

⸻

We set the plan for the next day.

Location: the bleachers, right after practice, when Sophia usually waited for her ride.

Execution: Henry walks up. Says her name. Holds up sign. Asks question. Breathes.

Simple. In theory.

In reality?

We were crouched behind the bleachers like criminals.

"All I'm saying," Josh whispered, "is if this fails, we run."

"Why would we run?" I whispered back.

"So we don't witness heartbreak."

Henry stood a few yards away, sign tucked awkwardly behind his back. He looked like he might pass out.

"Is he breathing?" Maya whispered.

Luke squinted. "Barely."

Sophia appeared, laughing with one of her friends. My heart started pounding like I was the one about to be rejected.

Henry swallowed hard and stepped forward.

"Okay," I breathed. "Go. Go, go, go."

He didn't move.

Josh leaned out slightly. "Henry."

Henry jumped like he'd been shot, then took a shaky step toward her.

"Sophia," he said.

She turned.

And smiled.

That alone felt like a win.

He held up the sign with both hands, like it weighed a thousand pounds.

"I—I was wondering," he started, voice shaking, "if you maybe wanted to go to prom with me."

Time froze.

Sophia blinked once.

Then twice.

Then she laughed—not mean, not awkward. Soft. Warm.

"Yes," she said. "Of course yes."

Behind the bleachers, all four of us exploded.

Maya covered her mouth to keep from screaming.

Josh fist-pumped so hard he nearly fell backward.

Luke exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for ten minutes.

I felt something swell in my chest—pride, happiness, relief—all tangled together.

Henry's face lit up like he'd just been handed the world.

"Really?" he asked, like he couldn't believe it.

Sophia stepped closer. "Really."

She hugged him.

And just like that, the mission was complete.

We ducked back as Sophia's friend noticed us and pointed. Henry turned, spotted us, and mouthed thank you.

I grinned so hard my cheeks hurt.

"See?" Maya whispered. "Love works."

Josh groaned. "I hate this."

————————

Prom

Prom Night

Maddie

Prom felt unreal in that way things only do when you've imagined them a thousand times and still weren't ready.

We arrived together—of course we did. There was no other way it could've happened. The five of us stepping out of the car like we owned the place, even though Henry looked like he might pass out on the pavement.

"Breathe," I told him, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle on his jacket. "In. Out. You're not going to die."

"I might," he muttered. "If I do, tell my mom I loved her. And Sophia—"

"Stop," Maya cut in. "You're sweating through your collar."

Luke glanced at him. "Objectively, yes. But emotionally, you're fine."

Josh snorted. "Man's about to meet the love of his life and you're grading his sweat."

I barely heard them. I was too aware of myself.

The dress.

It was simple—nothing dramatic, no sequins, no cutouts—but the velvet caught the light in a way that made it shimmer like a night sky. Deep blue, almost black in some places, dusted with shine like stars you only notice if you look closely. It hugged me just right, familiar but different, like a version of me I hadn't met yet.

Maya looked unreal beside me. Yellow silk, glowing, her curls pulled back into that soft ponytail that somehow made her look older and younger at the same time. She caught me staring and winked.

"I know," she said. "I look expensive."

Josh—because of course—was in a red tuxedo. A red tuxedo. With his football jacket thrown over it like punctuation.

"I look iconic," he declared.

"You look confused," I replied.

Henry didn't even hear us. His eyes locked onto Sophia the moment we walked inside.

And wow.

She looked... breathtaking. There was no other word for it. Simple dress, soft smile, eyes lighting up the second she saw him.

Henry froze.

"Go," Luke said quietly.

Henry took a breath—and walked toward her.

That was it. That was the moment. The reason we were all here.

The rest of us hovered awkwardly near the entrance, pretending not to watch like creeps.

Sophia smiled when she saw him. A real smile. The kind that reaches someone before words do.

"You look beautiful," Henry said, voice steadier than I expected.

She blushed. "You look really handsome."

Josh groaned behind me. "I hate romance."

Maya elbowed him. "Shut up."

Henry offered his arm. Sophia took it.

And just like that, they were gone—pulled into the lights, the music, the night.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Luke looked at me. "We did it."

"We did," I said. "Against all odds."

The gym was transformed—lights low, music loud, decorations just shy of tacky. Everyone knew us. People waved, smiled, shouted our names. It was strange, being seen like this, like we belonged to something bigger than ourselves.

Josh immediately disappeared toward the snack table.

Maya grabbed my hand. "Dance floor. Now."

She didn't wait for an answer.

We danced like it was our job. Like the world might end tomorrow. Like nobody was watching—even though everyone was.

I laughed until my sides hurt.

At some point, I noticed Luke standing near the edge of the floor, tie loosened, jacket gone, watching everything with that familiar half-smile.

"You're not dancing," I shouted over the music.

"I'm observing," he shouted back.

"Liar."

He hesitated—then stepped forward.

Awkward at first. Then less so. Then suddenly normal.

Too normal.

We didn't touch. Didn't need to. We just moved in the same rhythm, laughing when Josh tried to spin Maya and nearly fell over, cheering when Henry and Sophia joined us, glowing like the center of the universe.

For a moment—just one—I thought:

This is it. This is the memory we'll all come back to.

And I didn't know then how true that would be.