Prom night.

I was in sweats, on my bed, eating dry cereal out of a chipped Hogwarts mug because apparently hitting rock bottom required themed dishware.

My phone sat on my nightstand on Do Not Disturb, blinking silently like it was just as exhausted as I was. A few notifications from TikTok, a missed call from my mom checking if I “needed anything for tonight,” and a spam text offering me 15% off tux rentals. Hilarious.

My heart felt benched, not broken, exactly, but definitely sidelined. Like it was sitting cross-legged on the curb, watching everyone else go to the party without it.

I tried not to think about the corsage I never picked up, or the playlist I never sent in, or the boy who might still be lying on his bed right now, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he ruined everything… or if I did.

The thought made my chest hurt in a way I didn’t have the energy to name.

I shoved another handful of dry cereal into my mouth, chewing mechanically, when a knock rattled against my window.

I nearly dropped the mug.

For half a second, my brain offered some creative options: serial killer? stray cat? Liam?

None of them seemed better than the other.

I tiptoed to the window and yanked the blinds up with the grace of a gremlin.

And there she was.

Leah.

In full prom glam, hair curled, makeup glowing, wearing a dress that could’ve made the cover of Teen Vogue, standing in my flower bed like a total maniac. In one hand, she held a flashlight. In the other, a giant poster board sign scrawled in glittery sharpie:

GET IN LOSER. WE’RE FIXING EVERYTHING.

Behind her, Jamie leaned against the porch railing with all the casual cool of a rom-com sidekick. He had a tux jacket slung over his shoulder like he belonged on the cover of GQ: Prom Night Edition and was holding a white dustbag that I could only assume contained a dress. Hopefully not neon.

Macy stood to the side, twirling a makeup brush in her fingers like she was about to either glam me up or stage a military coup. Possibly both.

I cracked the window open an inch, heart thudding so loudly it practically echoed.

“I didn’t think—” I started.

Leah grinned up at me, flashlight beam dancing over her face. “You didn’t have to.”

I stared down at them, blinking hard.

“You forgave me?” I asked, voice breaking more than I meant it to.

Macy shrugged one shoulder, smirking like forgiveness was a casual Tuesday errand. “We’re not that petty.”

She tossed her brush from hand to hand like a villain in a cheer movie.

Jamie held up a thermos and wiggled his eyebrows. “Also, we brought tequila. And chaos. You’re legally required to accept both.”

I pressed my hand to my mouth because laughing and sobbing at the same time isn’t exactly an Olympic sport, but I was giving it a solid try.

They stood there, ridiculous and glittery and stubborn, in my backyard.

Waiting for me.

Not because I deserved it.

But because they still chose me.

I didn’t say anything.

I just shoved the window all the way up and climbed out with zero grace and even less dignity, landing in the flower bed with a squelch that was probably the death of three marigolds.

Macy caught me before I faceplanted. “Damn, Torres. You sure you’re the valedictorian?”

“Shut up,” I muttered, wiping dirt off my knees and trying not to laugh.

Leah shoved the dress bag into my arms.

Jamie handed me the thermos.

“You’ve got twenty minutes to transform,” Macy said, checking her watch like this was a tactical operation. “We have a rogue prom to crash.”

“And a dance floor to steal back,” Leah added.

“And a certain hoodie-wearing menace waiting for you,” Jamie finished with a smug grin.

I blinked at them, heart thudding painfully, messily, hopefully.

Maybe tonight was still salvageable.

Maybe so was I.