I didn't even look back at him.

I turned on my heel and went straight inside, pushing through the door like I could leave the argument out there with the cold air. The music hit me first—too loud, too heavy—but honestly? Good. I needed something to drown my thoughts.

Maya spotted me immediately. Of course she did. She always did.

One look at my face and she frowned. "You don't look okay."

"I'm fine," I said, grabbing a red cup from the table without even checking what was in it.

She tilted her head. "You had a fight."

"No."

"Yes," she said calmly. "You did."

Josh leaned in from the side, already nodding. "Of course they did. Look at her. That's her fight face."

"Let it go," I muttered.

Maya waved Josh off. "No, this one's bad." She lowered her voice. "What happened?"

I exhaled through my nose, staring into my drink. "Do you guys know about the rumor?"

Maya blinked. "Honey, I know about a lot of rumors."

"Not that kind," I said. "About me."

She thought for a second. "No... not really. I mean, who would even dare—"

Josh went very, very quiet.

Both of us turned to him at the same time.

"Oh, come on," Maya said. "That face means something."

Josh sighed. "Okay. Fine. I might've heard... something."

My jaw tightened. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"It didn't seem important," he said quickly. "I thought it would just die."

"What rumor?" Maya demanded.

Josh scratched the back of his neck. "People think you're dating Luke."

Silence.

Then Maya burst out laughing. "Oh my God. That's hilarious."

I stared at Josh. "And you just... let that go?"

Luke's voice cut in from somewhere behind us. "I didn't know it mattered."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course it didn't."

Maya sobered a little. "Is that why you're mad?"

"No," I said. "I mean—maybe a little. But mostly I didn't even know that was a thing."

Josh nodded. "Yeah, well... it kinda explains some stuff."

"What stuff?" I asked.

He winced. "Like why you didn't get asked to prom."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"Guys thought you were with Luke," he rushed out. "They didn't want to get punched."

Maya's mouth fell open. "That's insane."

Josh held up his hands. "I did tell them it wasn't true. That's why Evan danced with you. Jack asked me straight-up if you two were dating and I laughed it off."

I stared at him. "And you didn't think this was information I should know?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I didn't think you'd care."

Maya clicked her tongue. "Well, that explains why Victoria showed up all territorial."

I groaned. "This is such a mess."

Josh nodded enthusiastically. "Huge mess. Imagine if people thought I was dating Maya."

Maya elbowed him hard. "I don't like you."

"Ow—wow. Okay," he laughed. "Me neither."

I rubbed my temples. "This is not how things should be."

Maya studied me. "Where's Luke?"

I hesitated. "Outside."

Josh whistled. "Oh yeah. They fought."

"Again," Maya added.

I shook my head, like I could physically shake the thoughts loose. "You know what? Screw this."

Maya grinned. "That's the spirit."

"I'm not letting this ruin my night," I said, already stepping away. "I'm going to dance."

"You go, girl," Maya cheered.

I headed straight for the dance floor, letting the music swallow me whole—anything to stop thinking about rumors, fights, and the boy standing outside pretending he didn't care.

At some point, I stopped caring about the clock.

About the rumor.
About Luke standing outside with his feelings locked up like they were classified documents.
About anything, really—except the music, the lights, and the fact that I felt good.

Like, genuinely good.

I danced until my feet hurt and then danced some more. I laughed with people I barely knew, spilled punch on someone's shoes and didn't even apologize properly, met at least three guys whose names I forgot immediately, and accepted way too many compliments that made my cheeks hurt from smiling.

Turns out, being drunk at prom?
Kind of iconic.

I was mid-laugh—something loud and uncontrolled—when I nearly crashed into someone.

Again.

Of course.

"Wow," a familiar voice drawled. "You really do make an entrance everywhere."

I squinted, focusing. Blonde. Perfect posture. That expression like she was constantly disappointed in the world.

"Oh," I said brightly. "Hi, Victoria."

She looked me up and down, clearly unimpressed. "You seem... happy."

"I am," I said. "It's wild. You should try it sometime."

Her lips pressed into a thin smile. "Careful. Too much punch makes people honest."

I leaned closer, lowering my voice conspiratorially. "That's my favorite part."

She exhaled sharply. "So tell me, Maddie. Do you want Luke or not?"

I blinked. Once. Twice. Then laughed.

"Oh my God," I said. "Is that what this is about?"

Her eyes sharpened. "Answer the question."

I shrugged exaggeratedly. "Depends. Do you?"

Her jaw tightened. "Don't play dumb."

"I'm not," I said cheerfully. "I'm playing drunk."

She took a step closer. "You're always around him. Everyone thinks—"

"Everyone thinks a lot of stupid things," I cut in, still smiling. "Have you met people?"

Victoria crossed her arms. "If you don't want him, say it."

I tilted my head. "Why? You taking notes?"

Her voice dropped. "Because if you're just playing with him—"

I laughed again, louder this time. "Oh honey. If anyone's playing games here, it's not me."

She bristled. "You act like you don't care."

I leaned back, swaying slightly. "That's because right now? I really don't."

Her eyes flicked past me, toward the door. Toward outside.

"It looks like he cares," she said quietly.

I followed her gaze, then looked back at her, smile softening just a fraction. "You couldn't be more wrong, poor thing."

Her expression faltered.

Then I straightened, clapped my hands once, and beamed. "Anyway! This has been... nostalgic. But I'm gonna go dance before this song ends and I forget how legs work."

I stepped around her without waiting for a response.

As I disappeared back into the lights and noise, I heard her mutter something under her breath.

I didn't turn around.

For once, I let myself be careless.
For once, I let myself be free.

Prom kept spinning, the night kept glowing—and for a few perfect hours, I didn't belong to anyone's expectations.

Everything felt slow.
Like the gym was underwater.

The lights were dimmer now, softer, like they were getting tired too. Half the people were gone. Cups abandoned everywhere. Shoes kicked under tables. Glitter stuck to the floor like it had given up.

And right in the middle of it all—

Henry and Sophia.

They were swaying to the last slow song, foreheads almost touching, her hands looped around his neck like they'd always belonged there. He was smiling like the world had finally stopped long enough for him to breathe.

I stared at them, my chest doing something weird and warm and tight all at once.

"Oh my God," I whispered to no one. "That's it. That's their wedding rehearsal."

Josh appeared beside me, squinting. "Are you crying?"

"Possibly," I said, wiping under one eye. "Why?"

He sighed the way only Josh could. "Okay. That's our cue. It's time to go."

"But—" I pointed weakly at the dance floor. "Look at them. Let them have this. This is... historic."

Josh nodded. "Yeah. We are. Henry's driving. He's the only one who didn't break anything tonight."

I frowned. "What about Maya?"

He shrugged. "She left with that AP-tree-hugger guy."

That made me smile instantly.

"Oh," I said, softer now. "Good for her."

I pictured Maya laughing too loud, flirting badly, being wildly herself with some boy who cared more about forests than football—and honestly? That felt right.

Josh mumbled something about grabbing his jacket and wandered off, red tuxedo flashing through the crowd.

I stayed where I was.

Just... watching.

Henry kissed Sophia's forehead. She laughed. The song faded.

And then—

I was alone.

I blinked, realizing the space beside me was empty. Josh gone. Henry busy. Maya disappeared into happiness.

"What about Luke...?" I murmured.

No answer.

I looked around, slow and dizzy, the room tilting just enough to remind me that gravity was optional tonight. The punch hit me again, late and mean.

"Okay," I muttered. "Sitting sounds good."

I spotted a little sofa—one of those weird art-class couches someone had dragged into the gym for decoration—and made my way toward it with the determination of someone on a very important mission.

I collapsed onto it.

Hard.

The cushions swallowed me whole, and I sighed, limbs heavy, head spinning, eyes half-closed. The music was gone now. Just echoes. Laughter somewhere far away.

I stared at the ceiling.

Sixteen years old.
First prom.
First time being this drunk.

"Wow," I whispered. "I'm really doing life right now."

I let my head fall back, the room slowly blurring at the edges.

And for the first time all night—
with the noise gone, the fight paused, the feelings sneaking back in—

I wondered where Luke was.

Maddie

I close my eyes for just a second.

Just one.

The world is spinning anyway, so I figure—why fight it?

And then something warm brushes my foot.

Not the abstract, floaty kind of warm.
The real kind.

I crack one eye open.

Luke is standing right in front of me.

Like—actually there. Solid. Breathing. Existing.

I blink. Then I giggle.

"Oh wow," I say, voice slurring happily. "I was wondering where you went and now you're here. Is this—" I squint at him. "—a hallucination?"

He snorts. "Yeah. You wish it was."

That makes me laugh harder than it should.

I tilt my head, studying him like he might disappear if I look away. He looks... calmer. Less sharp around the edges. Like the fight drained out of him somewhere between outside and here.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out suddenly.

He stiffens a little. "You didn't mean it?"

"I didn't mean it," I say quickly, nodding too hard. "But I was still rude. So. You know. I'm sorry for that part too."

He exhales. "Yeah. It's okay."

Then he adds, softer, "You're drunk."

"Very possibly," I agree proudly. "I also talked to a lot of guys I don't know. I'm still deciding if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

He raises an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, my whole weight tipping toward him. I rest my head in my hands and stare at the floor like it personally offended me.

"Well," I mumble, "everyone thinks we're dating. Which is super messed up."

He crouches down in front of me so I can see his face properly.

I lift my eyes to his, slow and heavy.

"That's messed up," I repeat, quieter now. "I'm really sorry."

He smiles a little. "Why are you apologizing to me? You didn't start the rumor."

"Yeah, but I'm part of it," I insist. "And now you don't get girls because they think you're dating me. And I didn't get asked to prom because they think I'm dating you. And that's just—" I sniff. "—mean."

My eyes burn.

"I think," he says gently, "that if there was no rumor, plenty of people would ask you to prom."

That does it.

I start crying.

Like—full, quiet, drunk tears.

"It was the first time," I hiccup, "that someone said I was pretty today."

He blinks. "That's not true."

"It is," I argue weakly.

"It's a lie," he says, smiling, "and also somehow still a truth."

I frown at him. "That makes no sense."

"I've told you before that you looked pretty."

I squint. "I don't remember."

"Yeah," he says, amused. "You were probably half asleep."

"Well then it doesn't count," I decide. "If I don't remember it."

He laughs, shaking his head. "Okay, fine. Then it counts now."

I look up at him again.

"Because you really are beautiful," he adds, quieter.

My face crumples.

I start crying again.

"That's so sweet," I whisper. "No one ever says that to me."

He just watches me, fond and helpless, like this is the strangest, softest problem he's ever had.

And I realize—dimly, drunkenly—that he's smiling.

And that for some reason...
he doesn't look like he wants to leave.