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.