No, Mom, I really don’t want to go to prom. I don’t have anyone to go with, and all my friends already have dates. It’s embarrassing,” I insisted.

My mother—who has been a professional model for twenty‑five years—gave me a sympathetic look.

“Honey, you’re beautiful. There’s no way no one has asked you,” she said.

In truth, four different guys had asked me already, just not the one she hoped for. I rolled my eyes, continuing the lie as smoothly as I could.

“Mom, all the guys who would asked are… well, they’re not exactly my type,” I said, stretching the truth far beyond reality. “Besides, they all have dates now. There are like two hundred girls going. Nice try, but better luck next time.”

I grabbed my mascara, tossed it into my backpack, and headed out the door. Pat—our seventy‑year‑old neighbor and longtime family friend—drove me to school most mornings since my mom worked long hours and we only had one car after I crashed the other on the way to school last year.

“Morning, Lila! Still turning down Jim, Tom, Craig… was there another one?” Pat teased as I climbed into his truck.

He’d known me since we moved to town, and he’d house‑sit for us whenever Mom needed to travel for work. Now that I was in school full‑time, those trips were rare." When we pulled into the school parking lot, Pat waved goodbye and honked at a group of students who darted in front of him. I kept my head down—unfortunately, that meant I walked straight into Paxton, the most popular guy in school.

My face flushed instantly. He laughed softly.

“It’s okay, Lila,” he said.

He knows my name?

“I’m guessing someone’s already asked you to prom, right?”

“Uh… no. Nobody has. Asked me, I mean.” I forced a nervous laugh.

He hesitated, then said, “Would you want to go with me?”

My brain short‑circuited. Paxton just asked me to prom.

“Uh… no, thank you.”

I hurried away before my brain caught up with my mouth. I had just told Paxton no.

Panicking, I spun around and rushed back. He looked understandably confused.

“I meant yes,” I corrected quickly. “I’d love to go. I just really need to get to class.”

I started down the hallway, but Paxton jogged up beside me.

“We’re in the same class,” he reminded me with a small smile. “Did you finish the test at home?”

Right. Same class.“Yeah, I did,” I said, trying to sound composed.

“Of course you did,” he teased lightly.

We walked together, talking about his dad, who had recently retired from the military. When he asked about mine, I hesitated—my father passed away before I was born. Paxton apologized softly, and we continued the rest of the way in comfortable silence.

We arrived to science class a couple minutes early. Today we were supposed to choose lab partners, and as usual, Ketea Larson—the head cheerleader—immediately tried to claim Paxton. He politely declined and joined me and my group of friends instead.

We talked through most of the period, and I ended up getting detention for being off‑task. My mom definitely wouldn’t be thrilled; I’d always been the responsible one.

When I got home, I was the one who had to break the news to my mom about the detention. She was not pleased. As punishment, she dragged me to her modeling practice for a full eight hours. The designer even used me for a fitting. I was miserable, and my face burned with embarrassment when I tripped over the blue sparkly dress my mom insisted would “fit me like a jewel.”

Thankfully, my mom made a pit stop at a local coffee shop (starbucks) after modeling practice, and I scored a caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino with extra whip—total lifesaver.

When we finally got home, it was almost 10 p.m. I rushed straight to my room and grabbed my phone. Three missed calls—one from my best friend, and two from Paxton. My stomach flipped. I scrambled around my room, suddenly nervous and excited all at once. After a deep breath, I tapped the little phone icon. It rang once before he picked up.

“Hey! I called you earlier. What were you doing?” His voice was muffled like he was eating.

“I was at my mom’s modeling practice. Punishment for getting detention,” I said, laughing. We talked for almost an hour before my mom poked her head in.

“Hey, hon? Who is that?”

“Just a new friend from school.” She lit up—thrilled I was making friends this late in the school year. Moms…

“Yay! What’s her name?” she asked, but the microwave beeped and saved me. “Well, that’s my food! I’m glad you’re making new friends.”

Once she left, Paxton and I slipped right back into conversation.

“So,” he said softly, “I’m having a pool party in a few days. Want to come?”

“I’m busy this weekend. Sorry. I’d love to come another time, though.” I hated turning him down. After we hung up, I checked the clock—12:48 a.m. We’d been talking for over two hours.

Downstairs, my mom was asleep on the couch, her nightly glass of wine on the table. I tiptoed past her into the kitchen. The fridge was basically empty, so I grabbed a bag of pita crackers from the cabinet and headed back upstairs.

I showered, humming along to the music blasting from my phone. I couldn’t sing to save my life, so humming was safer. Afterward, I slipped into pajamas, curled up in bed with my crackers, and put on a Hallmark movie. I made it about forty‑five minutes before passing out.

At 5 a.m., I woke to pots and pans clattering. School was canceled for teacher meetings, so I had the whole day to myself. I ran downstairs to find my mom making pancakes.

“Pancakes?” I asked. I hadn’t had them in years—they were too messy.

“I felt like them today,” she said, flipping one. “I’ll be gone all day, so I made food you can reheat tonight.”

My phone buzzed.

Paxton(from school)

Hey! Are you free today? We’re going to Daron’s restaurant and then the beach. Want to come?

I’d love to go!!! What time?

We haven’t set a time.

LOL. I can be at Daron’s around 4-ish.

I set my phone down, and Lila called immediately. She launched into a rant about being asked out and how I didn’t call her back yesterday. I told her I’d been on the phone with the hottest boy in school. Silence… then a scream so loud I dropped my phone. When I picked it up, there was a new crack. Not surprising. My phone buzzed again, lighting up the counter.
Paxton(from school)

~ Actually, we might head out earlier. I’ll let you know.

A jolt of nerves shot through me. Earlier? How much earlier?
I didn’t know why, but it felt like today was going to matter.

My phone buzzed just as I finished brushing my hair.

Paxton: Hey, would it be okay if I picked you up? I kinda want to hang out with you alone before dinner.

I froze, staring at the screen. My heart did that weird fluttery thing again, the one I pretended I didn’t notice. Alone. With him. Today suddenly felt a lot more real. I ran into my closet and grabbed the first outfit that didn’t make me look like I was trying too hard: a soft white fitted tank top and a light, flowy pastel skirt that brushed just above my knees. I slipped on my simple gold necklace—tiny, barely noticeable, but it made me feel put together. My hands shook as I reached for my white sneakers, the clean pair I saved for “nice” days, and I tugged a light cardigan off its hanger just in case it got chilly later.

I checked myself in the mirror. My hair fell in loose waves around my shoulders, and the outfit made me look…soft. Pretty. Like someone Paxton might actually want to hang out with alone.

My phone buzzed again in my hand.

Paxton: I can be there in ten.

Ten minutes. My stomach flipped so hard I had to grab the doorframe to steady myself.

10 minutes later...

I had just finished putting on a bit of lip gloss when a car engine hummed outside.

My breath caught.

I peeked through my window.

Paxton had just stepped out of his car.

He looked…really good.

He wore a light gray hoodie, the kind that looked soft enough to sleep in, with the sleeves pushed up to his forearms. Under it was a white t‑shirt, simple but clean, and a pair of dark jeans that fit him way too well. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d run his hands through it a few times, and he had on white sneakers that matched mine almost perfectly.

He glanced up at my house, hands in his pockets, and smiled to himself like he was excited—or nervous. Maybe both.

My heart thudded so loudly I was sure he could hear it from outside.

I took one last breath, smoothed my skirt, and headed downstairs. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped my phone again. When I opened the front door, Paxton was already walking up the steps.

He looked up—and stopped.

For a second, he just stared at me like he forgot what he was about to say. His hoodie sleeves were still pushed up, his hair still perfectly messy, and he had that easy half‑smile that made my stomach twist.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “You look… nice.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Thanks. You too.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at his car. “I, uh… figured we could hang out for a bit before dinner. Just us. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt. “That’s okay.”

He opened the passenger door for me—something no one had ever done for me before—and I climbed in, my skirt brushing against the seat as I tried not to look awkward. He jogged around to the driver’s side, slid in, and the car filled with the soft smell of his cologne, warm and clean.

“So,” he said, buckling his seatbelt, “I was thinking we could go somewhere chill first. I kinda wanted to talk to you without everyone around.”

My heart thudded so hard I was sure he could hear it.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I’d like that.”

He smiled, started the car, and pulled away from the curb like this was the most normal thing in the world—while I sat there trying to remember how to breathe.

Paxton pulled away from the curb, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping lightly against his thigh like he was trying to work up the courage to say something. The car was quiet for a moment, just the hum of the engine and the soft music playing from his speakers.

“So…” he said, glancing over at me with a small smile, “I didn’t really get to ask yesterday—how was your detention punishment modeling thing?”

I laughed, relaxing a little. “Humiliating. My mom made me walk in heels for like an hour. I almost broke my ankle twice.”

He grinned. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“You’re evil.”

“Only a little.” He looked at me again, softer this time. “But seriously… you okay? You seemed kinda stressed yesterday.”

The question caught me off guard. No one ever asked me that. Not like they actually meant it.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Just… school stuff. Life stuff. You know.”

He nodded like he understood more than I said. “Yeah. I get that.”

The car fell into a comfortable silence. Not awkward—just… warm. Safe.

Then he asked, “So what do you do for fun? Besides almost dying in heels.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know. I like movies. Music. Hanging out with Lila. Nothing exciting.”

“I like that,” he said. “Normal stuff. Everyone at school acts like they’re in some competition to be the most interesting person alive.”

I laughed. “Yeah. I’m definitely not winning that competition.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I think you’re pretty interesting.”

My breath caught. I stared out the window, hoping he didn’t notice the way my cheeks heated.

He cleared his throat. “I was thinking we could go somewhere before dinner. There’s this spot I like—kind of quiet. I wanted to show you.”

“Okay,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

He smiled, turning down a familiar road, and for the first time all day, the nerves in my stomach felt less like panic and more like butterflies.

A few turns later Paxton turned down a road I didn’t recognize, the trees growing thicker on either side. The sunlight flickered through the branches, warm and golden, and the farther we drove, the quieter everything felt.

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying not to sound as breathless as I felt.

He smiled at the windshield. “You’ll see.”

A few minutes later, he pulled into a small gravel turnout overlooking a lake. The water stretched out in front of us, calm and glassy, catching the afternoon sun like it was holding it. A narrow wooden dock reached out into the water, and tall grass swayed gently around the edges. It was quiet—peaceful in a way that made my chest feel warm.

Paxton parked and turned off the engine. “This is my favorite place,” he said softly. “I come here when I need to think. Or when I don’t want anyone to bother me.”

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

He glanced at me, and for a moment, he didn’t look away. “Yeah,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at the lake.

My cheeks heated, and I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt. “Can we… go out there?” I nodded toward the dock.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling again. “C’mon.”

We walked side by side down the little path, our shoulders brushing once—just once—but it sent a spark straight through me. The boards of the dock creaked softly under our feet as we stepped onto it. The lake was so still it looked unreal.

Paxton sat at the edge, legs dangling over the water, and I sat beside him, leaving just enough space to pretend I wasn’t nervous.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The breeze was warm, the sun low, and the whole world felt quiet.

Then he said, “I wanted to bring you here because… I don’t know. You’re easy to talk to.”

My heart fluttered again. “You barely know me.”

“Yeah,” he said, nudging my knee with his. “But I want to.”

The words hung between us, soft and warm, settling into the space like they belonged there.

Paxton’s knee brushed mine again, just barely, but enough to make my breath catch. The lake shimmered in front of us, warm light dancing across the water, and for a moment it felt like the whole world had gone quiet just for us.

He shifted slightly, turning toward me. I felt it before I saw it—the change in the air, the way his voice softened.

“You know…” he said quietly, “I’m really glad you came today.”

I swallowed. “Me too.”

He looked at me then, really looked, his eyes flicking from mine to my lips and back again. My heart thudded so loudly I was sure he could hear it. He leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to pull away.

And I did.

Not dramatically—just a small turn of my head, my gaze dropping to the water instead of him. My breath trembled in my chest.

Paxton froze.

“Oh—sorry,” he said quickly, pulling back a little. His voice wasn’t annoyed, just surprised. Gentle. “I didn’t mean to… I thought…”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, forcing myself to look at him. “I just… wasn’t ready.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he nodded, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s fine. Really. I didn’t want to rush you.”

The warmth in his voice made something in my chest loosen. He wasn’t embarrassed. He wasn’t mad. He was just… Paxton. Soft. Patient. Kind.

We sat there for a moment, the breeze brushing past us, the dock creaking beneath our feet.

Then he nudged my shoulder lightly. “We can just sit. I like sitting with you.”

And somehow, that made my heart flutter even more than the almost‑kiss.

Paxton didn’t move for a second after I turned away. The breeze rippled across the lake, and the dock creaked softly beneath us. I could feel him trying to figure out what to do next, and for a moment I wished the sun would just melt me into the water.

Then he cleared his throat gently. “We should, uh… probably get going,” he said, his voice warm but careful. “Dinner’s in like an hour.”

“Yeah,” I said quickly, grateful for the out. “Yeah, we should.”

We both stood at the same time and almost bumped into each other. I stepped back, he stepped back, and then we both laughed—quiet, awkward, but real. The tension eased just enough for me to breathe again.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as we walked back up the path. “Sorry if that was… too much,” he said, eyes on the gravel.

“It wasn’t,” I said, shaking my head. “I just… wasn’t ready.”

He nodded, and the small smile that tugged at his mouth made something warm settle in my chest. “Okay. Then we’ll go slow.”

We reached the car, and he opened the passenger door for me again. This time, when I climbed in, I didn’t feel nervous—I felt… safe. Seen.

He slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and the soft music filled the space between us. As he pulled back onto the road, he glanced over at me with a crooked grin.

“Daron’s, right? Before everyone else gets there?”

“Right,” I said, matching his smile.

The lake disappeared behind us, the trees thinning as we drove toward town. My heart was still fluttering, but not in the panicked way from before. More like… anticipation. Something new. Something I wasn’t sure I understood yet.

But I knew one thing: dinner was going to be interesting.