It was lunch at Pop’s, the neon lights glowing over your milkshake as you and Betty sat across from each other. Homecoming posters were plastered everywhere in school, and everyone was pairing up with someone — except you two.

Betty sighed dramatically into her fries.

“Everyone’s stressing about dates,” she said. “Honestly, it would be so much easier if I could just go with you.”

You snorted. “Please. You’d be the prettiest girl there, and I would look like the idiot who got lucky.”

Her cheeks turned pink — and she set down her milkshake, looking at you with those soft, earnest eyes.

“Then let’s go together.”

“…What, like as each other’s date?”

She shrugged, smiling nervously. “Yeah. Why not? No pressure, no drama… just us.”