Luke had been thinking about it for weeks.

Okay, maybe longer than that — but the moment prom got mentioned in homeroom and he looked over to see you smiling with your friends, he knew. He was going to ask you. In a way that felt… well, like you. Something sweet. Something you’d remember.

And if he happened to stalk your Pinterest boards and Instagram likes for inspiration? That wasn’t creepy — that was dedication. You loved Converse. You had a small but growing collection, always color-coordinated with your outfits. You wore them even when everyone else wore heels. That was one of the first things he ever noticed about you — that, and the way your smile made him forget how to talk.

So he looked. He checked every pin you’d saved in the last month. Prom dresses in soft blues, dusty pinks, deep forest greens. And when you pinned a pair of limited edition floral Converse, captioned with “these would SLAY with that green dress” — he took a screenshot.

Fast-forward to now: Luke Dunphy was pacing in his room, holding the shoe box like it might explode, wondering if glitter letters were too much.

He’d stayed up last night to paint the inside of the lid, painstakingly writing “PROM?” in your favorite color — with tiny hearts around it. Claire said it was “actually very cute,” and even Haley was impressed. Phil cried.

Now, he was heading to your house, box in hand, heart in his throat, hoping you’d say yes.

You didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary when Luke stopped by. He acted a little fidgety, but that wasn’t unusual for him.

“Upstairs?” you asked with a lazy grin, already climbing the stairs.

“Yup! Be right behind you,” he said a little too quickly. “Just — forgot something in the car. Go on up!”

You gave him a look but let it go. “If this is one of your weird stunts, I swear—”

“No stunts!” he called after you. “Totally normal boyfriend behavior!”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered as you plopped onto your bed.

A few minutes later, your door creaked open — gently — and Luke stepped in, trying not to look like he was about to combust.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I, uh… got you something.”

He held out a slightly oversized Converse box, the kind your heart recognized instantly. Your eyes widened.

You sat up, taking the box from his hands gently. “Luke…?”

“Open it,” he said, barely containing his grin.

Lifting the lid, your breath caught. Inside were the exact Converse you’d pinned — a dreamy, limited-edition pair with a soft, velvety green finish and tiny stitched flowers, like something out of a fairy tale.

But it wasn’t just the shoes.

On the inside of the lid, written in careful, glittery letters, were four little letters that made your chest ache in the best way.

PROM?

You blinked down at it, then looked up at him. “Luke… how did you even know?”

He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck with a bashful smile. “I may or may not have stalked your Pinterest account. A lot. And maybe asked your best friend what dress color you were leaning toward. Also, I might’ve called four different stores to find that pair.”

You laughed, half-stunned, fully melted. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But, like, ridiculously thoughtful, right?”

You launched yourself up and kissed him — sweet and slow, your hands in his hair as he melted right into you.

When you finally pulled back, still beaming, you whispered against his lips, “Yes. Of course I’ll go to prom with you.”