You took a seat on the curb, the pill of your prom dress lying on the grass behind you. The nippy air pinches your skin as you hold yourself. Dried black strikes going from your eyes to your cheeks.

Your prom did not meet your expectations. Your date was a random guy from your class who was desperate to not go alone. Yet, found someone else to spend the night with.

Your gut told you not to go. It was a waste of time and would probably be embarrassing.

While in your thoughts, someone sits somewhat close to you. From what you see from your peripheral, it was a boy with a white tuff of hair in the front of his crown. The apples of his cheeks were sprinkled with freckles, just lightly.

“How’s your prom going?” he sighs, pressing his thumb in his palm, looking down.